Sunday, July 13, 2008

It's been a long time, been a long time .. been a long, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time....

I haven't posted in billions of eons. I just read Swishy's blog about Brangelina's twinlets and realized how much I've missed the blog. I'm resolving to write again...after vacation of course. One week in Maine sans laptop, or even cable television. I may melt into a pathetic, non-techie puddle. But at least I'll have the beach. And lots of booze. I may celebrate with cigarettes. Oooooooh....I feel so naughty.

Cheers.

Friday, April 06, 2007

Someone Please Hire Me

Do I need a new job? Yes.

Dumb Ass: When was that check mailed out? When am I going to get that check?
Me: It was mailed yesterday sir.
Dumb Ass: So then I should get it today or tomorrow, right?
Me: I'm not sure when you'll get it, sir. You see, once I put the check in the mail, it's kind of up to the post office to get it to you.
Dumb Ass: Do you have their number?

Oy vey....

Saturday, March 31, 2007

I Think I Might Rather Waste My Money on Rent.

We've owned this house since July of 2005. We haven't done squat here. No landscaping, no moving of the brush piles, no garden, nada. I tell myself it was because the boy was small, we had no time (this is true). Now that the boy is bigger and less dependent on us (oy!) I tell myself we'll be able to get all the things done that need to be done. Who am I kidding? It was easier when we had a landlord. Everything was his problem, not ours!

I'm not sure we are cut out to own a house. Perhaps we would have been better suited to a place that already had everything it needed including less land. We own three acres and at the time of purchase it seemed like a good idea. Now all I see is upkeep, and I've learned something about myself, about my husband: we're fucking lazy.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

I Must Get Out of This House

Guess what, I'm sick again! Yep...sick again! I looked back on posts thinking it had been maybe six weeks since I last stayed home from work but no...it was a mere 27 days ago, what the hell!

I'm starting to wonder what it is that I'm doing wrong here. Should I be drinking the antibacterial hand wash rather than just slathering my entire body in it? Should I be using the Clorox wipes inside my mouth as well as all over every doorknob and light switch in the house? Why is my immune system betraying me constantly? I don't get it. I eat my five servings of fruits and veggies per day, I exercise...

My creativity is lacking. I've been laying in bed watching t.v. since Monday night. I've been in our bedroom (thank God we got that free t.v. from WalMart) for so long that when I venture out into the kitchen to get a glass of juice the room looks new to me, how messed up is that? Maybe this means when I get back into my car to finally go back to work, that will look new to me too. Maybe when I get back to work I'll have a new job too. Wishful thinking.

Random Thoughts:

Why can't the powers that be at American Idol just lie about the votes to get rid of Sanjaya? It worked at the last presidential election...although I suppose now they're just keeping him around for good ratings. I'm talking about Sanjaya of course. Certainly not the president (sorry, can't bring myself to use a capital "P") for such a tiny little man.

Lost...did anyone watch last night? No, don't tell me. We DVR'd it due to being sick. early-to-bed lame-o's and it's all I could do to keep myself from watching it without Hubs today since he dragged himself to work and left me to my own devices.

Why am I sitting here crying at TLC's "A Baby Story"? That only used to happen to me when I was pregnant. In fact, I haven't even watched this show since I was pregnant. Not a good sign, not a good sign...

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Anger Management

Last week, a Cornell student severely beat and tortured a dog he was "taking care of" for a neighbor. The dog chewed through a speaker wire and Mr. Ivy League went totally apeshit over it. He spouted off to the police that he had no remorse, would do it again and knew he would get off with a slap on the wrist.

Reading this news in our small-town newspaper ripped my heart out and truly upset me, as well as a good deal of the rest of the community. I was told by some heartless ignoramus that I was "too angry" about it, that we should feel sorry for the little bastard because of course we as a society have failed him. Whatever. Anyway, in light of my newfound calmness (I say this dripping with sarcasm of course), a haiku:

Weak little bitch-ass
Big man feels good beating dog
Now jump off a bridge

Sunday, March 11, 2007

It's Spring Back, right? Or Fall Forward? Or....

I've been around for thirty-five years now. Long enough to have mastered daylight savings I would think. Wrong. Am I the only moron that goes through this every time? Why do I wake up the morning after with a time-telling hangover? Why do we (because I'm including my husband in the stupidity) scramble around the house, checking clocks, asking each other "The clock on the microwave says 10:00, so that means it's really 9:00, right?" No dumb ass, it's really ten o'clock, get with the program.

That's all.

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Friday, March 09, 2007

Because I am Evil

No, this doesn't have anything to do with the ghostie-jedi-mind-trick post below. My head isn't going to spin around and pop off. Oh wait perhaps it will, this post is about my mother-in-law. She brings out the absolute best in me.

Today our daycare was closed. Hubs asked my mother-in-law (we'll call her MILFP...Mother-In-Law I'd Like to Freakin' Push...okay that was mean, it's definitely a Xanax kind of day now isn't it?) to stay with the boy while we are at work. Normally I wouldn't ask MILFP to babysit simply for the fact that she never offers to, she usually only likes to act as Grandma when it suits her schedule. Anyway, we're in a bind so Hubs asks her and she agrees.

MILFP and I used to be friends. We used to go shopping and have coffee and eat cakes and smoke cigs and oh yes, we would tawk and tawk and tawwwwwk. Then I quit smoking in 2002. We stopped shopping and sipping and smoking and tawking. It wasn't my doing, I think she felt uncomfortable around me because I wasn't smoking. Or maybe she didn't want to expose me to the smoke, who knows. I don't know the reason because we never talked about it. And up goes Wall One.

The boy was born and things got even weirder. Every piece of advice she had annoyed me. She pushed and pushed about certain issues that she had no business pushing about. She thought we were crazy for implementing a schedule, for making our own baby food, for making sure we were home at naptimes. Because you see in 1971 when she was raising kids, they didn't have naps. Her kids never needed naps. Then she will go on to tell you how cranky her kids were. Hmm. Well then.
Homemade baby food was unheard of, wouldn't I feel better if I bought him the jars? My favorite was when at 6 months she felt the need to bring to my attention that perhaps I needed to stop nursing; after all, at six months of age I could be setting my son up for years of therapy, what with flapping my breasts in his face all the time. And up goes Wall Two.

Wall Three is a real bitch of a wall. The day it was put up my son was about 3 months old. I put him down for a nap and jumped in the shower. A few minutes later when I turned off the water I was shocked to learn that someone was in my apartment. There I stood, dripping wet, not to mention naked therefore totally vulnerable ... frozen in fear in my bathroom as I hear a voice coming from my son's room. I fling open the door and there she is, MILFP, standing on our second floor landing, holding my son (whom, did I mention was supposed to be napping?). Apparently she knocked but when I didn't answer felt it was appropriate to come right in and walk up the stairs, take the baby out of the crib and then act as if she hadn't done anything completely fucked up.

So for the last two and a half years there has been this unspoken source of contention between the two of us that of course Hubs refuses to acknowledge. I usually handle it by taking every opportunity to display my Babycenter knowledge when she shares an antiquated mothering tidbit, i.e. "Back when I was raising my kids I only had to blow smoke rings to entertain them, while they were sleeping on their stomachs of course". I know it's probably some mother-son thing, I'm in the new role of mother and wife, I don't know...also it could be me just being paranoid but I don't think so. Right? RIGHT??

Did I mention the time that Hubs and I went on vacation for a week one year, pre-Boy, and we returned only to discover that MILFP and re-arranged our entire apartment? So you see what I'm dealing with.

With the continued harassment I feel the need to exact revenge. Not horrible, terrible revenge. Just that little taste of I'll-Show-You-Who's-In-Charge-Missy kind of revenge.

So I prepare the boy for his day with grandma. I made sure I gave him a few extra of his favorite cold prunes at dinner the night before. Makes for a nice diaper in the morning. I set the tower of DVD's at eye-level so as to make sure he would see them the minute he got up and immediately break into his Dictator routine of demanding which episodes he'd like to see, taking 15 minutes to decide, and finally settling on one right at the moment your head almost spontaneously combusts. Of course then once the DVD is playing the boy turns bi-polar and insists he didn't want to see that particular DVD. He wanted the other particular DVD, and so on, and so on.

I made sure to tell her he likes to have his place settting on the left side of the table when I know darn well he always sits on the right, and any deviation in said seating pattern is cause for a nuclear explosion. I also let her know how much he LOVES to brush his teeth after his meals, and especially how he likes to have help. Not true of course. I told her she should use the Dora cup instead of the Mickey Mouse cup, knowing full well that mass hysteria would ensue as a result of my little plan. Are you thinking I am a cruel person for playing little tricks that would upset my son in order to put MILFP over the edge? Don't worry, he'll never remember.

I come home at the end of the day with a carefree attitude and a smile. MILFP's hair is askew, shall we say, and although she finally quit smoking six months ago I can tell she is jonesing for a butt. She sighs and says it's been a long day. The boy just looks like he is on top of the world. I swear he winks at me. He's my partner in crime.

Ah, it's the little things...

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