i am bossy

Here’s Something You Probably Didn’t Know! Bossy Has A Son! And He Just Went Off To College!

Hello one person left who still wants to hear all about Bossy’s son and his
drop-off at Columbia University! Because—let’s face it—even Bossy is all, “Again? Hasn’t that kid graduated from fooking college already?”

Well. Here’s the long and the short of it, where the short of it is also long.

Bossy and her husband and her son were in the car by 5 a.m. this past Monday to avoid bridge and tunnel traffic:

The street in front of the dorm building was closed to traffic to allow the families to unload into large cardboard containers:

These cardboard containers were on wheels and, once full, needed to be pushed down the street and into a holding area. A dazed Bossy trailed behind her assigned carton trying to muster what the scene reminded her of—and suddenly she had it: the carton reminded her of the infant bassinet where—
18 years earlier—Bossy stored her newborn son, wheeling him up and down the hospital corridor.

Next Bossy and her son pushed the cartons into the dorm building elevator, anticipating their first glimpse of what will be Bossy’s son’s home for the next ten months:

After Bossy and her son stopped laughing, they decided to rearrange a few pieces of furniture to better facilitate two distinctly different roommate sections, and to allow more room for partying studying.

After Bossy’s husband took a yearlong expedition to Jupiter parked the car, the threesome caught a subway to a discount bedding store to purchase
an apartment without cinderblock walls an area rug.

With the rug purchased, they returned to the dorm to find Bossy’s son’s roommate—and the two men worked quickly to unpack their speakers and more speakers books.

And then Bossy and her husband accompanied Bossy’s son down the elevator and out into the quad, where they said their goodbyes before Bossy’s son disappeared into this exact diverse and happy crowd:

Ten-Word Tuesday.

You are looking at a photo of Bossy’s first day of college. Sort of. Actually you are looking at a photo of Bossy’s first day of college give or take the following:

• Six months. This photo was taken six months prior to the beginning of college.

• One bird. This bird did not accompany Bossy to college; this wholly unnatural pose was struck at a Florida aviary.

• One boyfriend break-up. Horrible.

• One boyfriend get-back-together. Worse.

But you are definitely looking at the first day of college hair, and that is definitely the first day of college eyeliner.

More details about the first day of college hair: At some point Bossy and her mother decided that getting their hair cut wasn't enough, they wanted to be shorn.

Bossy’s mom suggested the look was very Jean Seberg, although on Bossy the look was more Concentration Camp since directly following this photo, Bossy’s tonsils were removed—along with most of her body fat when she couldn’t eat solid foods or spicy foods or citrusy foods or food.

What this photo doesn’t show is how every decision Bossy made surrounding this time frame had to do with her boyfriend who became her ex-boyfriend who became her boyfriend again and finally, her ex-boyfriend.

Bossy’s process of selecting a college consisted of calculating the number of miles all prospective schools were situated from her boyfriend’s apartment door.

Bossy vaguely remembers receiving glossy college brochures in the mail, which she promptly tossed—unopened—onto the avalanche of similar brochures which she kept on the glass shelf of Her Unit.

Ultimately Bossy chose a college only 10.2 miles from her boyfriend’s apartment and the cat piss and wicker that filled it, and only 3.6 miles from her childhood bedroom, where Bossy continued to live while working at her high school job.

This was Bossy’s son yesterday during his first day of college orientation. He is taking full advantage of a program that devotes an entire week to introducing students to their campus, each other, and their enormous city.

Bossy’s college orientation? She can’t remember because she probably skipped it. But this is what Bossy does remember about her first day on campus:

late, unprepared, forgot campus map, purchased Whisk for boyfriend's laundry

Which is what today's ten-word challenge is all about: in exactly ten words, can you tell Bossy what you remember about your first day of college?

And if not college—what were you doing instead?

It’s Time For: Everything I Know About Technology I Learned From Reading Bossy.

Bossy has a friend who, for the sake of privacy, Bossy will call Perri because that is her name.

And this Perri emailed unto Bossy and said, “For the sake of privacy I will call you Bossy because you are. Also? I’d like to subscribe to your blog. But how?”

How?

Thankfully Perri directed that question to the right person, where right person equals Bossy (has no clue.) Let’s begin:

If you would like to subscribe to Bossy’s blog, then you should know they have these things called Readers. Readers are people who live in libraries with their noses in books. Readers are also subscription services that notify you when your favorite blogs are updated. Bossy thinks they notify you by email but she can’t be sure because she has never seen a Reader in her whole entire life.

But let’s turn our attention to something Bossy has seen:

Directly over there, in Bossy's right hand column toward the bottom of the page, live the buttons you see pictured above—where buttons equal ill-sized links all the colors of a beach ball.

The first one is for Technorati. If you’d like to read Bossy’s poem about Technorati, click here. If you’d like to learn what Technorati is used for, click here, where here equals not here because Bossy has no idea what is useful about technorati.

Moving on, Bossy suggests you try clicking on the link below technorati which reads “Subscribe to this blog’s feed.” When you do, you will get the following list of options:

Bossy admits these are not actions in the classic sense—where actions equal tasks that require you to move muscles other than your index finger. She also doesn't understand even one of the actions listed.

Speaking of index fingers, do you still want to subscribe to Bossy’s blog or not? Well then let’s try pushing the following Google button under “subscribe to this blog’s feed”:

When you click on that little Google icon -- not the one pictured above but the one that lives in Bossy's right column -- you get the following:

And finally, let’s see what happens when we click the last of Bossy’s helpful links—this time the Yahoo link below the informative Google link:

And that, friends, is how you subscribe to Bossy’s blog. Any questions? Put your hand down, Bossy.

Or you could double-back to this easy video tutorial about Google Reader and start adding your favorite blogs.

And Now Bossy's Daughter Will Imitate The Olympic Gymnasts.

Ooh. Shiny Light Bulbs.

Bossy took this photo of a pizza parlor sign yesterday on the beach boardwalk, and it's meant to distract Bossy from the fact that in fifteen minutes she will begin helping her son pack for Columbia University.

Send hard liquor.