Thursday, December 31, 2009


My kids are excited to stay up until midnight to ring in the New Year. To me, midnight sounds like 5 am at this point. Possibly because I am a million years old.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Can't you read?

It's written plain and simple, in nice black and red colors: "Do not throw away".
How many wet-wipe bag covers do you think I own? You're bloody throwing them all away every time you finish a bag! Do you not know how to read? This daycare is costing me so much money, I would expect the people who take care of my baby's education to bloody know how to read and follow simple instructions!
Now his entire bag will get soggy from wet wipes without cover, and the wipes themselves will dry out and my husband says I can't yell at you.
Damn you for making me look like a fussy mom!

Sunday, December 27, 2009

If You Can't Ring Up a Sale Without Rolling Your Eyes

maybe you shouldn't work at a grocery store.

I approach the checkout.
She asks, "how many bags?" and I say, "two."
She takes a carton of eggs and immediately places it on the bottom of the first bag and I say, "could you please put the eggs on top?" and she says, "There are going to be two bags, anyway," and rolls her eyes.

Because are you seriously fucking telling me that one bag will just have the carton of eggs and the second bag will have everything else? Because if that is our bagging strategy, then I would like three bags.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Bah Humbug!

When did the thoughtful exchange of Holiday Cards between friends and loved ones turn into mass mailing out a picture of your kid with a generic caption and pre-printed signature? Isn't that what snapfish is for? Why are you wasting your time and your money mailing out this crap? They aren't thoughtful or charming. They are cheap looking and tacky. Merry Frickin Christmas!

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Thanks Facebook

Thanks for the tips, I know I am a loser at finding friends. But suggesting I friend the elderly father of my ex-coworker? That's a little Jerry Springer dontcha think?

Friday, December 18, 2009


Why haven't you changed your mailing address, guy who used to live here? It's getting progressively more tempting to open packages from Amazon that keep getting shipped here! It's been 4 months since we moved in! Why is Amazon still sending things to THIS address?!?!

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Final Whine

Dear Stupid Teenagers
Boy, STOP SUCKING YOUR DAMN TEETH! This is a communal computer lab. I have final in 20 minutes. I am trying to study here because I don't have a Mac at home and apparently that is the only acceptable form of computer. I'm under a lot of pressure here. You incessant squeaking will become detrimental to your well being in about 4.5 seconds. If you don't stop sucking you teeth I'm going to forcibly remove them with my fist.
Girl, GET OFF THE PHONE! No one wants to hear you fight with your mother, No one is interested. Your being extremely noisy and WAY Too much information is now being shared with total strangers. You are distracting me. Get off the phone or your going to find out how it feel to have it shoved up your nostril. That is all.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Weight Loss

You know what? I have worked my ass off to lose 20 lbs. Working out at the gym for an hour each night after work and counting calories. So yes, it irritates the crap out of me when you, who clearly have done absolutely nothing and haven't lost a single pound as far as I can see, claim that the pounds have melted off of you by magic! And then you tell me you don't even own a scale and never weight, so how the HELL do you even know? It's so irritating that I'm tempted to bring a scale to work and make you step on it, except I'm not into humiliating people. But keep it up, and that may change.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Silence isn't golden

I think when people give you the silent treatment, they should tell you exactly when it's going to be over. That way you could just go about your business and know, for example, that at 8PM, you can call back and get your question answered.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

What does she do all day?

I have a friend who is an HR recruiter for a large telecom company. I also have lots of friends that are out of jobs. So, one would think the two would be a good match. But whenever I ask HR friend what jobs are open, she tells me to check their website, and there are usually 2 jobs open. One in Laredo (bilingual only) and one in Ramsey, NJ (no relo). Neither are really geographically desirable. So what exactly does she do all day? Is there like an HR handshake or something I am missing out on? I just want to help my friends find something!

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Christmas Bonus

The father of the family I babysit for just backed into my car. He's also prone to temper tantrums and a tight ass. Sucks to be him.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Mother in Law

Is it unreasonable for me to expect my mother in law to actually wait
at the door for someone to let her in? She drops by unannounced and
just let's herself in while we are watching tv downstairs. A week of
watching our kids after school does not make up for our relationship
being shit. Agh!!!

*** *** *** ***

Saturday, December 5, 2009

I need a definition of hooker

So, Ashley Dupre, the prostitute who was err...having sex with Governor Eliot Spitzer is outraged that Tiger Woods' girlfriends are getting cash settlements. I read yesterday in the New York Post that her comment was along the lines of "And I was the hooker?"

I am confused.
Does the fact that Tiger's mistresses are getting some cash somehow make Ashley NOT a hooker?

Or is she confused and thinks that only one woman can be a hooker.
Because if receiving cash for sexual services isn't a job description for prostitution, I don't know what is.

Oh, and the fact that she hasn't cashed in on it by writing a tell-all book? Ashley, what are you waiting for? No one would blame you.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

If you've gotten this far in life without using an ATM or one of those
self-service lanes at the grocery store, I'm sorry, it's too late to

Just wait for the teller to cash your check. Of all the life skills
you can pick up now, this just isn't one worth having.


I just want to send a big fat WHATEVER! out to the whole world right now. WHATEVER! to snarky friends who constantly hit you with zingers. WHATEVER! to family drama, family psychos, family grinches. WHATEVER! to cranky bosses who insist you go to 4 hour meetings when your drowning in work. WHATEVER! to the economy and how the hell am I going to pay for Christmas. WHATEVER! to all the fricken holiday sale emails, mailings, commercials and internet ads that make me feel like I'm contstantly missing out on the best deals in the world. WHATEVER! to time that there is never enough of. WHATEVER! to my to-do list that is constantly a mile long. WHATEVER! to the exhaustion - insomnia - exhaustion - insomnia cycle that I am on.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Damn you Google Voice!

So, my husband is a smart guy. Sometimes too smart. He signed up for a service called Google Voice – one phone number which will ring all of your phones in order until one picks up: cell, home, office, voicemail. Brilliant.

Except, he’s in California on a business trip and has turned his cell off while he’s out to dinner with the guys. I’m in North Carolina (that’s 3 hours ahead) trying to get some sleep.

Goes something like this:

<woman sleeping>

12:02am: Phone rings. It’s a (female) client of his wanting to invite him out for drinks. Sorry to wake you.

12:03am: Same client. Can’t figure out why my husband’s cell phone rings his home. Even after I explain it to her – again.

1:32am: Client he had dinner with. Great sushi. Wants to see if they can meet for breakfast.

1:57am: Husband. Saw I called. Why am I still up?

Time to go back to driver's training

You were wearing scrubs. Bet you work in the health profession. And yet you were exceeding the speed limit in your shiny, red SUV, tailgating, drifting out of your lane, failing to signal your intent AND vigorously brushing your teeth along a stretch of highway which has seen 3 fatalities in the last 2 weeks. What the hell is the matter with you?????

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Rules for My Husband

The only place shoes belong is on the floor. Not the dining room chair, not the table, not the bed. THE FLOOR.

your little demon dog

Dear In-Laws, Thank you so much for finally agreeing to come to my house. I know the 30 mile drive is apparently quite difficult for you to make. But, I welcomed the opportunity to cook the holiday feast for you all. It was something I wanted to do for you. However, next time leave your little demon dog at home. He was not invited. After dog sitting that little stinker - during which I spent my time trying to restrain my husband (your son) from hanging him out to dry for repeatedly peeing all over our house, carpet, and furniture, antagonizing our dogs, and generally being an obnoxious pain in the ass - he is no longer welcome in my home. Even for a short visit. Especially after this latest (unexpected, unannounced, unwelcome) visit. It took my husband nearly thirty minutes of cleaning to get the SHIT from his DIRTY ASS off my white chair. The chair in which none of my dogs are allowed to sit. Thank you so much. Next time, leave your little SHIT-zu at home.

Saturday, November 28, 2009

Holiday Mother-In-Law

You know, the holidays are tough enough if you have a blended family like my husband does. Every holiday is full of running around to this dinner and that, ensuring that every single member of the family is satisfied and no one feels slighted or forgotten. Fortunately for my dear husband, he married me. And my only real family consists of my two parents who are married to each other and who are more than willing to see us on a day OTHER than the actual day of said holidays because they did lots of running around on holidays during the first years of their marriage and they understand how totally exhausting and holiday-ruining it can be.

Enter my mother-in-law.

My considerate and wonderful husband called her early on Thanksgiving morning to see when we could see her during the day because (and I don't know if this is because fate hates us or because no one else really cares that it SUPER sucks to run back and forth from, literally, one end of the city to the other) we had decided to go to another family gathering that was scheduled at the same time as the one that she was attending. I feel the need to interject here that she hates the part of the family she was going to see as much as we do. So really, you would think she would understand. Oh, no. Not this woman.

The conversation went something like this:

Husband: Mom, when would be a good time to come see you today?

Mother-in-law: No time. I am going to the dinner and then over to my friend's to get ready to go out shopping starting at midnight.

Husband: OK... What about tomorrow?

MIL: I already told you. I am shopping starting at midnight tomorrow and then I am sleeping.

Husband: Oh... well... I guess give us a call when you have time to see us.

MIL: Fine. Bye.


Excellent. Well, then MIL went to her other son and complained that my husband was "trying to get her to rearrange her schedule to fit HIS needs while have no concern for her." Punch me in the face. Please excuse my husband for trying ot be a good son and find time to spend with his mother on Thanksgiving. If he hasn't already apologized.... Please, let me. We're SO sorry.

Of course, she ended up calling to ask us to come over on Saturday to help put up the tree and spend some time together "as a family". Of course, I already had plans with my best friend who is in town from college. Which I had to rearrange for HER.

What a bitch.


Thursday, November 26, 2009


I may have had too much to eat.
We'll know more after an autopsy.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Used Car Salesman Whine

While parked at a McDonald's tonight I spotted several mini-vans in the used lot next door. We need a new vehicle so I unloaded Little Louie and proceeded to hop down the retaining wall to take a look. My six year old son and I studied exteriors and computer printouts in the windows for a good 10 minutes without contact from sales staff, so I figured they were closed. No big deal. We head back to our car.

Then someone pulls another minivan to the front of the line -- we get out of our car, hop down the retaining wall, and walk right past this employee. We again examine the minivans, in full view of TWO employees now. I notice the hours. They're still open. Huh. So I call hubby, give him the vin numbers, he looks them up. Still no salesperson. One standing outside, one surfing the web inside and neither of them come to see if the mom looking at the mini-van has any questions.

Finally, after about 15 minutes more I get pissed. I stalk into the dealership and wait patiently for someone to notice my presence.

After a full 60 seconds, slimy father-figure stands up and asks, "Can I help you with something?"

Me: "Sure. Do you sell to women?"

S.F.F.: (jovially) "Why sure we do!" (The "Little Lady" was implied.)

Me: "Interesting. Because I've been out there for a half-hour and no one came to see if I had questions."

S.F.F.: "A half hour! Well, we were JUST out there!"

Me: "Exactly. You walked right by me."

S.F.F.: {{{silence}}}

Me: "Just so you know, I was pretty interested in the Pontiac. But there's no way on this earth I'd ever buy from this dealership. You've just successfully lost a sale."

S.F.F.: {{{silence}}} (He was probably thinking, "BITCH!" Hope that thought tastes good with your smaller commission check!)

Anyway, I felt much better after taking advantage of that little teaching moment. I hope it sticks with those jack-asses. Think it might, because as Little Louie and I made our way across the lot to our car, the three employees were lined up at the window watching our money walk away.

I guess it just pisses me off because I KNOW it was due to the fact that I didn't have a man along with me. Not that this would make it right, but it wasn't like I was looking at a Porche or a Miata with my six-year-old in tow. If that were the case I can see how they'd figure I was just window shopping or whatever. But I was looking at a FREAKING MINI-VAN. A used one. Don't know many women who go window shopping for a used mini-van. Usually, if we're looking at something like that, we are looking to buy. Turn on the charm, treat us like human beings, and SELL us a car!

Bullies Stink

Damn them. Short week... and yet both kids were bullied. Just wish my kids would tell them to ^&*(&^%^%%&&%^&%^&%^&... I'd support them 100%.

Thanksgiving Card

When I ask you to sign a fucking Thanksgiving card for your parents, the proper response is "thank you for getting it, because it means a lot to my parents and I never think of these things." Not "they'll never get it on time."

I feel like death

I feel like crap. I am going on day 7 of what can only be described as an epic illness. Day 3 of no voice, day 2 of zero sleep because my throat is so excruciatingly painful. I can't breath, I can't swallow, and I can't talk. SO Mr "doctor" man, when I explain all this to you in a whisper b/c that's all I can manage and tell you its getting worse and that i'm in so much pain it makes me cry when I cough, your prescribing me some EXTREMELY ineffective pain killers and telling me to "wait it out" makes me want to HURT you. I'll be damned if I'm missing Thanksgiving b/c you are "uncomfortable with antibiotics" I can't even tell you the last time I took them so just prescribe them already DAMMIT! You shall be reciving a telephone call from my husband as soon as your office opens. Normall I would take care of this sort of thing myself but you'll have to forgive me b/c my throat is ON FIRE AND I CANT FREAKING TALK!

Monday, November 23, 2009


Her "will you be my bridesmaid" invitation clearly stated to be honest, not talk behind her back and let her know if she was being a bridezilla. I did just that. Now she gave me 24 hours to decide if I really want to be a part of the wedding since it's clear to her that I need massive amounts of professional therapy and have an evil spirit.

No school

There is no school this entire week. When did this change? In the olden days, you know, 15 years ago, I never got the entire week of Thanksgiving off. How in the world am I supposed to get us ready for our trip, when I have FIVE CHILDREN here today? How? Who authorized this crap?

I don't even have five children, but somehow I have five children under eight in this house today. Halp. Send wine. And chocolate.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

What the heck, mom?

I told my son that saying 'what the heck' was not acceptable and he said, "why the heck not?"

Friday, November 20, 2009


Everyone has heard how when you take ambien sometimes you don't remember your shit? Well I took 2 the other night because I REALLY needed to sleep that night and ended up inviting my parents up for thanksgiving. almost would have been better if I had facebooked my highschool boyfriend. Rachel Ray, please call me...

We're splitting the tab? REALLY?

So we both have salads. I have a HALF salad and water ($9.85) and she has a full salad and ice tea ($12.95 + $2.25). We eat lunch. She's in dire financial straits because, as she finally confesses, SHE DOESN'T WANT TO GO TO WORK. Nevertheless, I'm nothing if not magnanimous and say....

"Let's split the tab."

"That works for me. You have cash? I'll just put it all on my credit card."

At this point, I whip out half of the tab plus half of what should be a generous tip, because I'm nothing if not magnanimous.

At this point, she pockets my money, studies the credit card receipt, and I admit, I can't resist looking to see what she puts in as a tip. I am appalled! Less than 10%!

To recap....I paid 70% of the bill and the poor waitress got stiffed too. And did I tell you that she blabbed the entire time about everyone she knew, not asking one question about me or my life?

Well, I'm not going to sweat it, because I'm nothing if not magnanimous.

Don't Make Me Defend Kate Moss

She is being criticized for saying that "nothing tastes as good as being thin feels."


People are outraged that a high fashion model, whose job requirement is to be undernourished, has a Weight Watchers motto?

Who are we kidding?

I find it a lot more offensive when skinny women say shit like "oh, I never diet" and "I just run after my kids, and that keeps the weight off." What. are their kids marathoners or something?

Yes, models are skinny. Because they don't eat as much as we do. I don't get the outrage.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

When I am Cranky

the correct response is not "do you know why?" or "hope you'll feel better soon!"

It's "you are perfect and everyone else is an asshole."


Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Not gonna do it!

Stop looking at me, you 2230 pieces of candy bought to hand out at a parade. Just STOP already! I can't open the bags to let you breathe, no matter how much you beg and plead. Because then? You'll be MINE. Mwahahahaha!! And how would I explain that one to my husband and the ballet? Well, okay. Here's the deal: you come up with the excuse and I'll give you some air.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Russian Prostitutes

Hey, instead of constantly spamming this blog with offers of Russian prostitutes, why not just buy some ad space? Rates are really reasonable and I think you'll soon discover that you found just the market that you were looking for!

Friday, November 13, 2009

so sue me

So I bagged on my luncheon training meeting to stay home and have sex with my under-employed husband. Sue me.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009


When I told The Girl that it needed to be "our secret" that I steal daddy's socks and sleep in them? I never thought about how it would sound when she told her teacher that "My mom keeps secrets from my dad".

Monday, November 9, 2009

Call me lazy...

I hate it when people have their blogs set so that only a small excerpt shows up in my Google Reader. Guess what, people...I'm the one who doesn't like your blog enough to click through to see the whole post. Either that, or I'm just that lazy. So there. Don't count your clicks before Whatever. You know what I mean.

Your Undevoted Reader

I do not own Google

Dear Internet Imbecile,
Yes, we gave you a FREE listing on our web site. Yes, YOU did change your name two years ago. Yes, Google is still finding you under that name. Yes, OUR web site has you listed correctly. NO. NO. NO. I cannot change the way Google lists you. And telling me it is entertaining, interesting and fake giggling will not get it to change. Deep sighing will not help in any way either.
Please contact the Google Gods for further assistance
Signed Not Google

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Dr Shithead

Dear Dr Shithead,
I have a fractured disc, you, I was told by your very caring, very intelligent, very worth trust partner, was the only one to see for a specific procedure.  Ok remember I have fractured disc, I have to wait a week and a half to see you because I need a body scan, an xray, and a Dexa scan.  It takes five freakin hours to complete said tests.  I can barely sit for ten minutes on those oh so comfortable waiting room chairs at the imagining center..  So I stand leaning on a high counter, with arms crossed against my chest.  Apparently I stood there so long and pressed arms so hard, I cracked my sternum.  Lucky me.
I should have known the appointment wasn't going to go well as soon as I walked into the building. I have never been to this branch office, of course that is 30 miles from my house.  There was a big lovely fall wreath on the front door, apparently hiding an important sign.  So I go to the front desk, putting my coffee cup down to sign in, and fill out the same form I have filled out every time I see these doctors..  An employee walks into the waiting room screeching, "whose's coffee is this", "Mine I said, sorry I will pick it up in a sec", she says "Can't you read? There is a sign on the front door saying no food or drink".  I said "No, but you do have a lovely wreath there".   I usually use the office close to my home, and the last time I was there with coffee, the receptionist said while laughing,  "What no coffee for me?"
I get called back to the exam room, where the temperature was oh like 115 degrees, not the place to leave a woman in her 50's for more than an hour.  Dr Shithead has a booming voice, I heard his entire conversation for an hour about a real estate transaction.  Remember I am still in pain with disc fracture.  The only place that I am anywhere near comfortable is on the doctor's chair, you know the one with the wheels, that every doctor in the world uses.  Shithead finally comes into the room,  he doesn't introduce himself, just says "You are in my chair", I say "It's the only place I am comfortable".  He says "GET UP".  Funny thing is when I saw his partner and sat in the same chair, Dr said "Please sit I want you comfortable". 
Dr Shithead asks why I am there.  Told him I wanted his special procedure.  He said WHO TOLD YOU I WOULD DO THIS? in his booming voice.  I said YOUR PARTNER.  So he looks at my test results, said "You wasted my time, there is no way I will do this procedure on you"  By that time I had freakin had it.  I said, "I wasted your time?, does that mean I don't have to pay you?"  "I only came here because your partner TOLD me to".  He finally went and got his partner who was also seeing patients.  The GOOD doctor apologized, saying without the results of your tests I was not sure if new procedure would help you..  I will do different procedure, please let me set it up as soon as humanly possible. 
 So Dr Shithead, could you please go rot in hell?  Thank you.  You could have been decent, saw me on time,  told me Im so sorry but I cannot help you.  I would have understood.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

if one more thing goes wrong...

is it not enough that our building was in a fire a week before we moved out? Is it not enough that we've been trying to catch up ever since? Is it not enough that our car broke and then broke again dramatically while driving in heavy traffic downtown? Is it not enough that my husband is a mass of nerves and barely pent up rage? Does he have to deal with a broken toilet part while trying to install a water saving device in the only bathroom we have in this house?

Can we catch a break sometime soon? Please?

Friday, November 6, 2009

Physicians, heal thyself

I don't know about most people, but I don't go to the doctor to make small talk with them. Nor to hear their rant about how Obama is socializing health care.  Just STFU already and do your job.

Day Light Savings

Day Light Savings SUCKS!!  
Why do we have to do this?
Animals don't understand the Day Light Saving!!
The horses, the cats, and the damn Rooster are all up at 5:00 now!!!!
People I have a whole hour longer to SLEEP!!

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

A birthday whine

So, no. The two parents CAN'T avoid swine flu it turns out. Not even if it's my birthday. So I spent #36 on the couch, watching my husband pack to go out of town, when he wasn't at a bonus hockey game with one of our kidlings, and then he huffed when I said, "Yes, honey, I still DO want soup and a sandwich from Panera." I spent it on the couch sewing daughter's pointe shoes because gramma asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?" Sure, come down here and take not-sick-daughter to pointe. (She lives a little over an hour away.) "Ohhhh. I don't think I want to get sick." Darn it all! Should've asked for her to LEVITATE my daughter to ballet for me and that would've worked. I spent it on the couch with my six year old son who kept telling me, "My eyes don't want to stay open," on day 5 of his sickness. And with two year old son who was alternately begging for a pacifier and throwing things at people and then laying down on the floor with his head cradled in my feet. And with nine year old son who was supposed to be at the aforementioned hockey game but woke up with a 102 degree fever and so couldn't go. But didn't care. Until the Motrin kicked in. Then he spent the day wanting to DO something and being Boooooooored, Mooooommm. Is it terrible that now that the Motrin has worn off, he has a terrible headache and is moaning and groaning and I'm pleased that he's suffering just a tiny bit? Yeah, I suck as a mom. Maybe that's why I get this fantastic birthday.
Oh, and thanks, mom, for telling me that making homemade pitas is Easy! and Fun! A. They weren't easy. B. That means they weren't fun. And C. They don't even look like pitas! They're like flat, slightly salty, whole wheat dinner rolls. Next time you hand me the successful recipe rather than sending me to a website to "Just pick a recipe they're all essentially the same!" I think your pants are on fire, mommy.

spelling of the english language

How come they had to come up with the mostest easiest spelling for the slang for relations? I mean come on, a 4 year old can read and sound out S-E-X. I think we all should have just left it at four-nick-hey-shun. Or better yet, used some of those Russian letters that are so trendy now.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Microsoft Excel New Version? I LOATHE YOU!

All I want to do is remove a HYPERLINK.  This is what they told me to do:
  • To turn off several hyperlinks at once, do the following:
    1. In a blank cell, type the number 1.
    2. Right-click the cell, and then click Copy on the shortcut menu.
    3. Hold down CTRL and select each hyperlink that you want to turn off.

      Tip  To select a cell that has a hyperlink in it without going to the hyperlink destination, click the cell and hold the mouse button until the pointer becomes a cross Excel selection pointer, and then release the mouse button.

    4. On the Home tab, in the Clipboard group, click the arrow below Paste, and then click Paste Special.

      Excel Ribbon Image

    5. Under Operation, click Multiply, and then click OK.

The best part?  After all that?  It didn't even work.
Manic Mommy
It really annoys me when The Gap declares my password "not secure enough" and makes me choose a new one with a capital letter, number and symbol.

Because if someone wants to hack my Gap account and buy me a sweater, I'm cool with that.

Note to the sugar-never-allowed families

Note to the Sugar-Never-Allowed families in the neighborhood:

If we didn't know who you are already (we do) we find out on Halloween. Your kids are the ones ravenously clawing at the candy bowl, digging in elbow deep, shoveling as many pieces of candy as is humanly possible for a seven year old. And then, once they have emptied the bowl? They proceed to stuffing their faces on my front porch, right in front of the candy bowl, with the wrappers still attached, before I can get the front door closed.

A little bit of sugar throughout the year, in moderation, has been known to remedy the situation.

Think of the TREES

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, if you FAX me something, you DO NOT have to send an
interoffice copy as well.

Monday, November 2, 2009


How am I supposed to train for a marathon when it gets dark at pick up kids-thirty and I need to run 17 jabillion miles during the week?


There were only two Almond Joys in my son's Halloween candy.

15 word whine

Five kids down with H1N1. 
Two to go.
Think the parents can avoid this treat?

unhappy birthday

Today was my husband's 28th birthday. To celebrate, I didn't get to cook him a delicious meal, or go on a fun hike together- he worked a 16 hour shift to cover for an absent co-worker.

Friday, October 30, 2009

There's no Great Pumpkin.

It’s October 30. Why can’t I find any pumpkin pie in the stores? None! I had to put my tub of Cool-Whip back….

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Whoever said lying doesn't pay

clearly never looked at someone's sitemeter page

Monday, October 26, 2009


My sixteen year old son's car is newer than mine.

15 word crowing

One of my chickens turned out to be a rooster.  Fried chicken at my house!

People Who Lie on Their Blogs

really chap my ass.

And that's the truth.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

I want to be alone

why can't he get it that when I say I want to be left alone I mean for him to leave me alone except when what I really what is for his to hold me long and hard and close and help me to feel not so alone?

Thursday, October 22, 2009

No, I Don't Want to Pay More

Last week, when I saw my therapist told me that she raised her rates and wants me to pay more.  I made an "ug" noise and she told me to "think about it."  Well, I thought about it and I still don't want to pay more. I mean, who wants to pay more?  But more than not wanting to pay more, I don't want to have lengthy therapeutic discussions about why I don't want to pay more and how being asked to pay more makes me feel.


I'm at a place in my life where I have the resources to hire a maid. I worked hard to put my husband through school. I've had three children, and I spend with them. I work hard. And I shouldn't feel bad about hiring someone to help out around the house. But I do. I feel like an elitist. I fear I'm becoming the very person I abhor. Do I really have more money than brains?

I can't complain about this to most folks about this. "Oh...poor thing. You have more money than you know what to do with. Money to hire babysitters and a maid and someone to wash the dogs. Your life must be so hard."

I don't want to be that person, but I really love walking into a clean house.

(Also, I simply can't call her "my maid". She doesn't belong to me.)

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

How is it that at the ripe old age of grown-up-with-a-child-thank-you-very-much I managed to leak through my pad and get blood on my jeans? You'd think I know how to handle this stuff by now.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

The Leaning Tower of Breakfast Dishes

because the dishwasher is five very long inches away.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

got a mind of my own, thanks

Well, Boss you thought you could convince me with your fear-mongering, constant pressure and over-bearing coercion that I should get a swine flu shot. You even told me that your colleagues are firing any employees who don't get the vaccine. When I told you I don't get vaccines for religious reasons, your only response was "well, if it is a religious reason, I guess I can't force you to get it." Really? You thought threatening me with job termination would force me to inject mercury, formaldehyde, and other known toxins into my body? My faith and piety is a bit stronger than that. I'll go broke before I put that garbage into my body. Oh, and I STILL have my job. Thanks!

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Pregnant Driving Whine

Is it just me, or do other drivers get stupider when you're pregnant? I mean really, the people I have driven behind ( and next to and in front of...) in the last 8 weeks have all been super idiots. And I really don't think it has anything to do with my hormones...

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Woman be not Proud: A Haiku

My first mammogram.

“You’ll feel some pressure…Stay still.”


Tuesday, October 13, 2009

student athlete whine

When you turned in your first paper, and it was suspiciously good for a remedial writing student, I asked you about it and you admitted that you had gotten a friend of yours to "revise it." Then I said I wouldn't fail you this time, but that you need to get me your original draft that you wrote yourself so that I could grade that. That was 2 weeks ago, and everytime I ask about it you say you have to get it off of your computer, your printer is broken, etc. Now you have turned in a second paper that is also suspiciously good for a remedial writing student, without having turned in your first paper draft yet.
I don't think you took me seriously when I said that I could fail you for this blatant plagiarism. The fact that you're a star football player with athletic academic advisors emailing me to make sure you're doing all right doesn't matter to me at all. You're fucked.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Mother-in-Law Whine

Dear Mother-in-Law,

Unfortunately for us (and, apparently, you), you are NOT dying (yet). Which means that this phase in my life with your son is not about you. In fact, it is not even close to being about you. When you do die (finally), I will make sure that everyone knows it is about you... but until that time, back the fuck off.

Scapegoat Daughter-in-Law

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Yet another teenage angst

Yep, same old story heard the world over:

I am a girl. I like a boy. He is my best friend, and although I am well aware of his faults I have to admit that I often wish that we were more than just friends, although I had never let it get in the way.
Thing is, I have a skewed view on romance, as in I really don't get it. I've seen all my friends get screwed over by people they loved and I was adamant not to let it happen to me, so I just never told anyone I fancied them. On top of that, I was bullied a few years back and then harassed by a classmate and so I had a whole pile of hangups that meant that I was afraid of letting people near me, both emotionally and physically. Then I met this friend, and over time I grew to trust him. Somehow he put up with my stupid phobias and mannerisms and saw me as an equal person and good friend. To this day, he is the only person to have actually calmed me down from the brink of a major panic attack/fainting thing. For a long time we maintained the "just friends" thing very well, even when everyone else thought we were a couple because of our closeness, or the closest approximation to closeness you'll get out of me.

And then of course, teenage hormones got in the way and I started wanting to be more than just friends. I kept it quiet for a few months because it was the first time in a long time I'd liked someone, and because he is, to be honest, a complete hopeless romantic, I was afraid of hurting him because I'm pretty unromantic and at times I can come across as cold. For example, I have days where I can't stand to be touched. Also, he had a girlfriend and I didn't want to complicate things.
Eventually it became known among my circle of friends that I did like someone, and out of curiosity he asked me who it was. At first I didn't tell him, and then one day a month or two after he first asked, I told him. After a moment of quiet, he told me I was brave, and then nothing else happened. He has since broken up with his girlfriend (he'd been uncomfortable in the relationship for a while) and has now developed a crush on a girl at his new school and is chasing after her.

Okay, I don't mind if he doesn't like me. I can deal with that. Odds are I'd be a pretty terrible girlfriend; I'm a good gig-buddy but intimacy is beyond me, so I would understand if he said that. But the thing is, he hasn't said anything either way. He's just gone chasing after this new girl leaving me with a huge question mark hovering over me. Another friend rang him to try and get his side of the story and he said that I know the score. But I don't. I have no idea where I stand here, and every time I see him I'm so glad that things haven't gone completely weird between us and we're still good friends, but I can't help but feel like my insides have been walked all over. So I still cheer him up when his romantic problems get him down by chatting for ages about music and books and maybe even giving him a hug which is still a rare thing from me, and when we talk it is still the highlight of the week/month. But I just need to know. It's eating me up inside. He's doing this because he's afraid of hurting me and I don't have the heart to say to him that not telling me is hurting me even more.
After a while to think, I realise I should've just kept my damn mouth shut and killed the feeling but still... just tell me where I stand. I don't care where it is. Could be right next to you, could be a little way away, could be out in the middle of nowhere. But please say so I can stop feeling like this.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Now that I think of it

I think DH is hiding money from me too. Because we don't have $230,000 in our joint checking account.

Monday, October 5, 2009

You're not listening

So, the DH is a water master. A new chlorinating system was just put in...I get a glass of water. Oh. Dear. My. "Hey guy, I think you have problems w/your chlorine."
He takes a sip. "Yeh, you can taste it."
Me, "Ah, yes..."
"Well, it's running about 1.5 which is a little strong, but when we had water quality problems about 2 years ago, I used to run it there all the time and you used to drink the water. It has been much lower lately and you're just not used to it."
"Yes, it will be fine."
"Well, if I were you, I'd check those figures again, and meanwhile I'm not drinking this.."
Several hours later... "Guy?. Water's not getting any better, in fact I think it's worse."
Long story short. He assures me, his buddy, who is the one with the testing meter, assures him it's all good. But they go to the pump house to check things out anyway. Come back. They've made adjustments. Under control. Meanwhile, I've got my store bought bottled water firmly in hand. People are calling. What the heck is going on, they want to know? So, next morning, I start breakfast, run some water for cooked cereal and remember water problems. Dang. Start to pour water out. I can smell it. Not cooking/eating that! DH is standing behind me and tells me if I boil it the chlorine will boil off. Yes, it will. But hey, guy, WE STILL HAVE A PROBLEM. I get the look. Several hours later I get a phone call. He needs the number for DOH quick. Apparently chlorinating system has malfunctioned. (Really? Chlorine is now at a point where if it was in my swimming pool one would have assumed that it had just been shocked and all swimmers would need to stay out until it dissipated....) There is a problem. His buddy has misread the meter.....
"You think?"
Just saying....

Thursday, October 1, 2009

What the Heck, Hollywood?

I don't understand why everyone is bending over backwards defending Roman Polanski. When the priests were sodomizing children, no one applauded like this. I guess it is all in the lighting.

Monday, September 28, 2009

how far would you go?

I have been crazy about you for 17 years. I talk to your sister, your brothers and your parents fairly regularly, even though we all live 800 miles apart now. You have never been as closely involved with anyone as you have with me. You changed your phone number in July and still haven't bothered to tell me the new one.
I got a postcard today from a guy I had one date with two months ago. He lost his phone (and my number) in a river and wanted to make sure that I knew he hadn't blown me off. Asked me to please call.
You are history.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

mother in law torment

I KNEW I shouldn't have shown her how to use facebook. Now that woman can say ruder terrible things in a public forum. And my family is starting to dislike her more then I do.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

I sure wish my 3 year old could type... then I could put her on this blog and she wouldn't have to whine at me all day long...

15 word whine

Supposed to start my sales job today. All my clothes have yellow crayon on them.

Enough already!

Dear Germaphobe,

Just because I work in a health club doesn't mean I'm full of germs. Just because it's a gym doesn't we don't clean it within an inch of it's life all. day. long. Just because you work in a hospital that has had a swine flu death doesn't mean you can come preach to me every day about keeping things germ-free. It's a gym. We're going to have germs. Even if we disinfect every surface with gin, vodka, and fire, we're still going to have germs.

I get it. I really, really do. But I do not need daily reminders from you about how contagious swine flu is. Oh excuse me, Mrs. CDC, H1N1. But guess what? If you're going to get swine flu, you're probably going to get it while at work at the hospital, not necessarily at the gym. And guess what else? There are usually way more scary germs than swine flu floating around most gyms. Want me to elaborate? No? I didn't think so.

So please. I beg you. Stop harassing me about the damn swine flu or I'll go out, kiss a sick pig, get it on purpose, and then sneeze on you.

Much thanks,
Your Friendly Neighborhood Gym Manager

Monday, September 21, 2009

I am sick and my cat just threw up

top that, whiners.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Insane killers get field trips to the state fair.
If I'm lucky today, I might get to go to the dry cleaners.

Friday, September 18, 2009

why can't people return phone calls?

is it me, or does it bother you when you call someone and they NEVER return your call? so you give up and try sending a text. maybe they can't hear their phone ringing, maybe they don't know how to access the voicemail..but today, most people know how to open, read and then respond to a text. you even stress in both the voicemail AND the text that it is time sensitive what you must relay to them. and they still don't reply. what the hell is up with that? so what do you do? try to leave a detailed message in the mere four freaking minutes you are allotted in the voicemail? hang up and call back, giving yourself the gift of an additional four minutes? wonder if they are sitting and looking at their phones ring, light up or vibrate, with your number shown on the caller id? why don't they just answer the damned thing, take the call, and be done with it.
well, I am beginning to wonder if I should just say <strike> f*#$k< /strike> screw you! YOU figure it out then...and if it bites you in the ass, you only have yourself to blame.
there. ((whew)) I think I feel better.
but I really don't.
damn it.

I'm such an idiot!

These are tough times for a lot of people. A LOT of people. And a lot of me...are just waiting for something good to happen. Something to fall into place nicely and neatly.
We've been living around the corner from our ex-home...our dream home. It's had been over a year the the house had not been foreclosed on, so for the next 8 months we 'worked' with the bank to see if they could do something out to help us get it back. I know, I know...a lot of people have a lot of opinions on this subject, but please know that not everyone bought beyond their means....some of us ended up with extenuating circumstanced that left us unable to make our payments. And until you've walked in the shoes that loose you your home...please don't judge. Anyway, after a stupid clerical mistake where someone closed our file at the bank...the file we worked so hard to build....our ex-house was sold at auction. The End.
So now we are in a rental house, around the corner from the ex-house that has been a two year heartache. I want out of the neighborhood. NOW! And I definitely want to move before my oldest starts kindergarten next year.
We've set our sights on a great subdivision and I've been scanning the internet daily (okay, a million times a day) to see if any rentals have opened up. I was excited today to see that there was one posted on craigslist....right size...right price...beautiful! I contacted the person right away and received an auto-response, with a link to a website with more information about the house. There was an area to fill out your name and email and submit it if you were interested in setting up an appointment to see the house. So I did that. There was also a link to pull your credit reports which are required when you go to see the house. I didn't do that.
Being the obsessive compulsive person I am, I did a mad search on the internet to see if I could find alternative contact information for either the owner or property manager, based on what little information I had. I searched for an hour. On page 4 of my last google search, I find another craigslist post....from another city clear across the states...and guess's a fraudulent post...and these people are going from city to city getting people to use their link for the credit reports and then stealing their identity. UGH!
I'm a smart educated woman. I am also very trusting. I feel like such an idiot that I allowed myself to get so extremely excited about this house. I would have filled out the forms. Had they contacted me and said that the credit reports were all they needed....I would have done questions asked!!! I would have fallen for their stupid scam, and my life that is already in a state of shambles would have gotten 100x's worse. Don't get me wrong, I'm VERY thankful that I found the post about the fraud...but I'm equally as pissed off at myself for almost falling for it. Or for even knowing that I would have fallen for it hook, line and sinker.
And the thing is....I don't want to be a cynical, paranoid, un-trusting person. But can I learn to be more cautious? Is there a happy medium, or am I just living in the wrong era?
I just really wanted something good to happen today...

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Tell me I'm not the only one who googles old boyfriends

Lord only knows why, but in the past week, I've googled three old boyfriends and discovered:
  • One bought a house for $1.4 million 10 years ago – according to Zillow, it's now worth more than $3 million. Well, he did become a cardiologist.

  • The next lives in a $1.5 million house (yeah, found his home address), with his wife (whose name I found out) and three daughters (unknown names). He's also a doctor, and makes house calls. For real. And he's actually better looking than he used to be – because, yeah, I found a photo.

  • The last one I looked up paid $1.4 million for a house two years ago (yeah, that municipality posts all of the real estate transactions on-line), is married (for the second time, because I'd known about the divorced first wife), and has two children (whose names and ages I know because they were listed in the obit of his new wife's mother). He's not a doctor, he's a tenured professor. And while his work headshot makes him look old, I found another (recent) picture of him looking as foxy as he did back in the day when I was running around with him.
What the hell is the matter with me? My husband has been underemployed for ever, my house will never be worth anywhere near a million bucks, and I'm just feeling sorry for myself.

Whine, whine, whine.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Which Looks More Appetizing to You?

My breakfast cereal?


Nicki's litter box?

or are you having trouble telling them apart?

I see stupid people

[Aside: I asked my 6-year old niece the other day if she liked math. She replied, “Yeah….You know, sometimes I just like to sit around and count stupid people”. I should have taken her to the airport.]

So, I’m at the airport. In the security line. I’m next – and I love being next. The guy in front of me is wearing a thick, gaudy gold necklace Flavor Flav would be proud of. He walks through the sensors and of course it goes off. So, he removes the necklace and walks through with it in his hand. Jackass. The alarm sounds. Here’s the conversation that follows:

TSA Rep: “Sir, you’ll have to put that in the basket and send it through the scanner.”

Flavor Flav: “No, I don’t want to do that”

TSA Rep: “Sir, put it in the basket”

Flavor Flav: “No”

TSA Rep: “What’s the problem?”

Flavor Flav: “I don’t want to lose it.”

What exactly does he think happens in the TSA scanner? That he’s going to put his shitty necklace in there and a chicken will come out the other end? Chocolate chip cookies? A baby, perhaps? (Is that where they come from??) I’m dizzy with the possibilities…

That guy was stupid person #12. By the time I got on the plane, I had counted to 23.

I took your advice and. . .

I quit my job that had crappy hours (noon-6p when you have kids going to school for the first time in their lives after years of homeschooling is the pits) and yet I'm STILL working there. And feeling responsible to be there because they haven't found a replacement. So I'm still juggling babysitting, driving to afterschool activities, and life in general for MINIMUM wage. Yep, when the state of Ohio raised the minimum wage in January, I (a college grad) got a freakin' raise. How awsome is that? And my hubby is all like, "Why don't you just not go in?" And I'm all, "Well, my first job in a gazillion years and you, Mr. Responsible, don't get why I feel the need to leave my place of employment on good terms and the right way?" And he's all, "Well, yeah, but. . . ." So I guess responsibility only applies to men? I don't know.

Monday, September 14, 2009

My Starbucks guy has too much coffee every single day

and is super annoying.

He can't just announce the drinks that he's serving, he has to singsong the names "a lattaaaaaay for Saaaaanddddiiii!"


Tuesday, September 8, 2009

I get really upset when people don't accurately use the words "Cloven Hoof"

I figure they were either educated by socialists or
were exposed to one at school

Fall Fashion Whine

Oh, sweet Lord.

I can't tell you what seeing these shoes does to me:

Because, really--who would wear that?

Someone will cloven hooves, that's who.

Monday, September 7, 2009

If I hear the phrase "car trouble" one more time...

My Dearest Hubs,

If we have to put one more dollar into your piece of shit car to "fix it", it's going to mysteriously roll into the river. I'm not saying I'm going to push it, I'm just saying somehow, someway, it will end up at the bottom of the Arkansas.

I know you're attached to this vehicle for insane reasons I am not meant to understand. I know you're not interested in having a new car payment. Hell, neither am I. However, if I have to (in)directly pay for one more of the Firestone children to go to college, I'm going to shit a brick. But hey, maybe it'll be a golden brick and you can use it to purchase yourself a new fucking ride. Or maybe I can attach it to the car when it rolls into the water. Any extra weight would keep it from floating, right?

-Your loving and adoring wife

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Not to get all political on y'all but...we have two wars, a deep recession, and a lot of countries catching up to us competitively -- and our big concern is about whether the President suggests to our kids that staying in school is a good idea. Really? Seriously? What the fuck is wrong with us?

Friday, September 4, 2009

Okay, so you two were going out for a year, which is a long time when we're only teenagers, and you loved each other a lot. And I understand that your breakup was messy and hard on you both, and I was there for you with an ear to listen to you, a shoulder to cry on, and a bucket to throw up into when you decided to drown your sorrows. Especially you, Girl. You are one of the closest friends I ever had and I would give you my boots to puke into if there wasn't a bucket and still love the fact that I'm with you.
But that was what, four, five months back. And things haven't got any better. You went through your period of separation, your reconciliation (ha!) and things are going in circles. You claim to cut off and then the next week you're having sex and taking each other out swimming and seeing films and then you upset each other and we have to piece you back together again, only for the circle to go around again. It's great that you're trying to be friends, but you need to sort this out, it's getting ridiculous.

Guy: face it, we don't really care. You only started talking to us after you broke up, because you thought it might help you stay with Girl if you were friends with us. We know that. I read your long posts about how you still love her and all, and I try to tell you it's going to be alright. But it gets boring always having to do that when you had a year to be friends and have good times together but only bothered when you wanted someone to angst to. And just so you know, no one could care less about the size of your penis. Seriously, being a girl does not automatically mean she's interested in that.

Girl: you need to tell him to stop thinking he still has a chance. He'll just carry on like this unless you tell him outright. Please. Then he'll stop being so irritating and clingy. Every time you let him pay for something, or hold you close, or have sex with you he starts thinking he loves you again. And also, stop being so viciously outspoken about men being stupid and useless and evil. I have friends who are guys, so do you, and let me tell you: in a way I get along with them better than I do with girls. You've had bad experiences, but it doesn't mean you have to verbally attack everyone with a Y chromosome every time Guy upsets you.

And to both of you: STOP FUCKING EACH OTHER!!! Can't you see it isn't doing either of you any favours? It works sometimes, the whole casual sex deal, but not with you. It's just making things even worse than they have to be.
Also, please stop being so dramatic about how love has been destroyed and now you don't love each other the world is an empty place. Because guess what? I've never been in love. The closest I've ever come to romance is snogging a drunken lesbian twice my age at a gig, and that was my first and only kiss. I have never been held close, I've never had anyone tell me that they love me, I've never even held hands with anyone.
And guess what? I am fine. I enjoy what I do. I am happy with my unrequited crush on a goth rock n roll musician, because I wouldn't know what to do with a boyfriend even if a guy was crazy enough to like me in that way. The only things I need to hold close to me are my bass guitars, and believe me, they are beautiful and would never hurt me. My heart beats faster only at gigs because I am in love with the sounds I hear.
It is a good life! I am doing just fine without sex and I'm sure you can do the same!

So you two, just learn to live as individuals again. Then maybe you won't fall apart every week and we can all just get on and enjoy our lives.


Seriously. The way you are breathing right now is MAKING ME WANT TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE. I am sorry for the all-caps thing, but seriously. You are driving me crazy. Just breathe normally. You didn’t just run a marathon, you crossed the room and sat on the couch. And there is no need to make that weird snuffling noise when you eat yogurt, either.

Sunday, August 30, 2009


The other day, Husbandrinka and I were driving along, and then I saw something ahead of us.
"Huh," I said. "I wonder what that is."
"Those are daisies," he told me.

Is it me, or do they look enormous?
It's the first time all summer it's been cool enough to wear jeans, but when I pulled them out of the closet, every single pair had shrunk.


Saturday, August 29, 2009

Why is it that some people think it is okay to tell you that they will talk to you later and then they disappear? This person lives a few states away so I don't have the opportunity to just run into them at the grocery or post office. The phone, text or email is it. And call me crazy, but in my etiquette book, when you actually tell someone, I can talk in a little while, then why the hell does it seem like this person fell off the face of the earth? Damn.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Shoo Shoe

Your shoes do not belong on the kitchen or dining room table. See that thing down there? It's called the FLOOR.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

I hear enough belches all day long with the kids...

I don't need to sit here while trying to read, and have to listen instead to the disgusting *crunch, munch, slurp, slather, munch...buuuurrrrppppp* coming from your computer while you play video games with your brother. If his noises don't gross you out, then put on your damn headphones so I don't have to listen too. And if they do bother you, then tell him he needs to learn to say "excuse me." It's what I say all day long to our children. It shouldn't be that hard to try out on him too.

They do it in spring, in fact do that whole year around, plus in fall they add a new freaking dimension to freak me out! And boy, how they love to do it on weekend mornings (which are like mid-night for people like me)

Well, here I'm talking about 'bluudy grass mowers' , to be politically correct, this is nothing against the persons who do it , this rant is strictly against the bluudy contraptions they use to do it.

Every weekend morning, they decide to trim the grass right below my bedroom window and do it till I wake up and tear my hair in frustration.

Geez, can't they invent (here they being people who made such machines) some better device which doesn't make noise, or little noise. All they have now is some stupid machine which blurts noise like 100 jets revving up to take off right under my bedroom window.

And come fall, they come back in teams, one guy doing this usual lawn mowing stunt, and supporting cast guy does this leaves gathering act using some equally stupid device- which looks like as if he is scattering the leaves instead of collecting them using that big hose which blows air out of it, in fact more noise then air.

Male Mail

I left three stamped envelopes on the counter this morning. Bills: you know, like the mortgage payment. It is nearly the end of the month. And you had to text me at work to ask if they needed to be mailed?

15 Word Whine

I put on a brand new SILK skirt today. It has a spot on it.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Not Hungry

When you offer to get dinner it means you are buying Chinese takeout. I cook 99% of the time without a thank you but you expect adulation for egg drop soup.

Help Me Understand

I was relieved we had eight smilie fries left to round out their gourmet dinner of corn dogs (State Fair, not Fletcher's) and fries. They threw the smilies in the trash. And then I ate them. Should I be concerned about this unhealthy relationship with food?

Monday, August 24, 2009

Vacation Whine

When I am on vacation, I would like for my children to get along.

Because my daughter putting a towel on her head and declaring "I am a queen" is ok, but my son retorting "the queen of Ugly, maybe" is more problematic.

I may need to hire actors in their place.
My kids spent most of the afternoon arguing over the correct pronunciation of the word "Tampon."

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

at the drop of a hat you turn into an ass

how many times do I do the hostess act for people I barely know that you bring home or invite over?

So when I invite someone who was almost like an honorary sister when I was growing up over for dinner in 5 days you get all huffy about having to hang out with someone you hardly know... There are times when I think your mouth and brain have been disconnected. You know those times when you say things that are completely insulting and obnoxious.


My daughter started coughing last night around 6pm. She coughed all night. This morning, my husband told me to take her to the doctor before our vacation tomorrow. She didn't cough all day. Not one tiny cough. So, I didn't take her. Now its bedtime, we leave tomorrow morning and she can't stop coughing. Great.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

I'm sick of my grandparents and its not like they're going away soon, they live with my mom and me. I just can't take it much longer, and it's barely been three weeks. Thank God fall session starts next Monday and I'll be out of the house almost all the time.

Vacation woes

I really want to take a mid-morning nap, but then the maid will skip my room and I'll have to make my own bed. What the hell kind of vacation would that be?

Thursday, August 13, 2009

When I'm angry, I cry

photo by the aptly named Kyle Flood
When I'm angry, I cry.

It gets in the way when arguing with a partner ("No, I'm not getting all emotional; just ignore those tears and listen to what I'm saying.") The eyelids brimming with tears really undercut my "behavior management" when I started teaching high school in Brooklyn, because if the one kid who was trying to push my buttons saw them, he'd zero in for the kill. There's no crying in baseball, no crying in front of a classroom and no damn crying when you're trying to be businesslike and professional.

But the frigging tears did me in again today, when I was trying to maintain my composure with the daycare director at Moochie's school. Arghh. Let me back up to this morning when we got a call from an alert woman from the school district who noticed that the preschool had Moochielisted for a totally different schedule than the one we agreed to (the one they maintained was the best one for her) in January.

She was supposed to have preschool in the afternoon and daycare (at the same facility) in the morning. So we planned to drop her there and have her bussed back home at the end of her day. They cancelled her daycare class and didn't tell us, then submitted a schedule to the district that would have her picked up in the AM for school, leaving us to get her in the afternoon.

Without calling us to explain, ask if this was cool, or, I don't know... apologize. Their attitude seemed to be "what's the difference, the other affected parents were cool with it; what's your deal?" (These others were notified, however.)

Well, I was mad and rightly so. We'd enrolled her for the summer because they said they needed 50% of the summer's cost anyway to guarantee her the spot we wanted. We figured, well, if we have to pay half anyway, she might as well attend. So that ended the search for a day camp and the kid would have to be satisfied with a water table and occasional run through the sprinklers.

But now the select spot had vanished, they didn't call to tell us and it's the middle of fucking August and we're leaving for vacation in a week. Fuckfuckfuck. (I pretty much stopped cursing when Moochie started talking, so I have a lot of curses stored in my brain as potential energy. They are leaking out now, so I apologize. I did start out with a "frigging" a couple of paragraphs ago, in my defense.)

Cut back to the preschool director's office. As I said, I know we're in the right here. So as I'm laying out my case and trying to get her to at least acknowledge that they dropped the damn ball, I did not need my eyeballs to be acting like they were watching a double feature of Terms of Endearment and An Affair to Remember. Goddamn traitorous eyeballs.

photo by Fotolia
I'm angry, not sad!

Wednesday, August 12, 2009


My toe hurts so bad! I can't stand getting those snickering comments from people because I want husband being one of them. Hello - I'm only 5'1", that is a pretty big portion of my body (if you don't consider surface area of which I have more than most).

My poor broken toe hurts a LOT. And it's all my husband's fault. If he didn't clean my whole house while I was away, dumping all clutter from the rest of the house onto our bedroom floor for me to deal with, I would have had more space on my bedroom floor to throw my still packed suitcase and it wouldn't have felt the need to jump up and attack me (do suitcases get claustrophobic?)

Oh and what's this crap about the doctor not letting me have an appointment or painkiller until they actually get the X-Ray results? So, I actually have to wait 3 days to get any relief. Day 1 being the day I thought I could suffer silently, Day 2 being the day I had to wait for childcare to get my X-ray and Day 3 being the day that I hope to get results (although the X-ray tech already told me she's pretty sure at least one toe is broken). And yes, I have had 2 children (by C-section) the moment this hurts worse because I had drugs then. And the hardest thing is that I want to write all about my Vegas trip, but am in so much pain that I can only whine.

The Other Boufs

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Et tu twitter?

My whine is that I came up with this great title for a whine (see above) but it doesn't really make sense. "Et tu twitter" implies (1) that there was another social media tool that got hacked this week rather than twitter twice. But "Again with the being down?" doesn't have the same catchiness.

1) Infers?

Monday, August 10, 2009


Why did a grown ass man stand in front of me on the subway and dig that wedgie out of his grown ass?

Because it's going to take many gin & tonics to erase that image.

Friday, August 7, 2009

secret spineless whine.

My Dearest Hubs,

The past two days I've realized that inside that 29 year old, muscled up, oh-so-manly body of yours hides a 4 year old girl. I realize that your dental work has been painful. I also realize you clearly aren't accustomed to such pain. However, the whining, moaning, and groaning performances you've given me since Tuesday are simply too much for me to handle any longer. Yes, dental work is painful. We've all been there. And some of us (gasp!) have actually experienced real (non-dental) pain in our lifetimes. Hard to imagine, I know. Your measly little tooth pain isn't enough to "haul ass to the emergency room RIGHT NOW for a morphine drip." Sorry kid. They'd laugh us out of the damn waiting room.

So my dear, listen closely. Grow a pair. Take some percocet. And shut the fuck up.

-Your loving and adoring wife

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Twitter is Down and I am Going Through Withdrawal

Where else can I post mindless drivel, where?
There is still a full month before school starts and I have officially run out of things to do with my kids.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009


Not to put the whole kabosh on a good cursing rant...because I LOVE them...but I can't stand when we feel the need to throw it around in the title of the entry. I know what I'm getting into when I click over. I appreciate it, actually. I also love having this blog on my blogroll (because I want to know the second someone has posted something juicy), but I really hate having all of my 3 readers see Mr. F-bomb right on my blog.

Monday, August 3, 2009


Co-worker...because of you, I think I need to go to the doctor and get some Xanax!
Why the hell do you feel it is necessary to run to my office twenty times on one subject. Take a fucking moment, gather your thoughts and come talk to me. One trip to my office about your concerns will be a thousand times more effective than you coming in here twenty times a day trying to word your same concern in different ways.
Do you not realize that you are not being productive? And my productivity suffers when I have to stop what I am doing to listen to you because you didn't convey all your thoughts in the first nineteen trips to my office.
You are so fucking scatterbrained! I don't know how anyone can put up with you as long as they have.
When I interviewed for this job, you were in the office, and the boss asked how I would handle working with sometimes difficult people. No worries, I've worked with difficult people in the past..I can keep my composure. Plus, I thought I knew who he was talking about, and she and I actually got along fairly well. Little did I know he was talking about YOU!
You are hard-headed, stubborn, not open to anyone's ideas but your own and you wear on EVERYONES LAST NERVE!
I really like my job, and I like all the other people in the office, but I don't know how much more of you I can handle.
When are you going to retire? It can't come soon enough.

Friday, July 31, 2009

I had a fight with Husbandrinka

This morning, he asked my opinion on something and after I shared my wisdom with him, I asked him what he thought about it and he said "well, anyone who knows anything about the subject, knows that you're way off."


So I pointed out that that was fucking rude and he said
"You only think it's rude because you're a narcissist and you think everything is about you."

I'm so glad that he explained it.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

lose the long face, lady

To my mother in law. And all of you muthuhs out there who complain your kids don't call or visit often enough. Stop being so damned cranky and inflexible when we do take time to visit. Like in my case, drive hours to get there in the midst of a busy summer.

Stop giving us the very loud silent treatment when we need to curttail your precious schedule because the kids have their likes and dislikes, too. You know, our children, your grandchildren, they're people. And us? Your adult children who take the time to visit? We work during the week. This is our weekend downtime. We've devoted it to easing your loneliness. Act like you appreciate that fact, just a little bit.

I know this is hard to believe, but teenagers don't particularly like sitting around your living room listening to you roll off your list of recently departed friends and loved ones. And their various health ailments. So when they don't look thrilled and would rather watch TV, understand.

I'm sorry you're in the stage of life when everybody is kicking the bucket, I really am, but kids don't want to hear about it. And neither do I, but I'm an adult who has an attention span. The kids don't. I have sympathy for an old lady. The kids don't.

And those same heavy meals you insist on cooking, despite your son's repeated suggestions that you don't have to go to so much trouble for us? But oh wait. That's right. That's the meal YOU want to eat. We're just numerous sets of mouths around the dining table doubling as a disposal for your leftovers. It's not really about us, at all, is it? It's about you.

And when we put our foot down and go out for a meal? If you won't eat with us, you can at least order something to drink. It won't kill you to drink a glass of water. In fact, your doctor tells you to drink more water, so it could prolong your life.

So quit with the pouting and the long suffering expression on your face. And quit looking at your watch and drumming your fingers on the table. You're giving us heartburn.

In short, act like you enjoy seeing us. Have some patience. Humor the kids by asking them about their friends or their summer adventures. Get out of the kitchen and get to know them. If you always make it about you, you lose them. And you're missing out on some really great kids.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Peloton must be French for "Tourture by Neverending Coverage"

Am I the only one who doesn’t give a shit about Lance Armstrong (jerk) and the whole biking thing? How long has this race been going on? 6 weeks? 9 months? Decades? Get it over with already. Give me back my husband (who TiVos it and watches every mind-numbing moment) and my evenings!

And stop pulling me aside at work to talk about it. I don’t care. I’m that person who runs bikers over when they’re crowding my lane in morning rush hour traffic. Find a bike path, for christs-sake! Better yet, go to the gym and pedal in air conditioned comfort while listening to your iPod and drinking Dasani like a civilized human being.

Can’t wait for football….

I understand that I'm 4 stories underground and surrounded by concrete walls but I find that to be a poor excuse why I don't get a phone signal.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

I'm trying to be supportive but

Yes I know our daughter got up at 4am because I got out of bed to deal with her and her sopping wet 5lb diaper that leaked all over her jammies and her bed. Which is why she came into bed with us because I was not going to start with stripping and remaking beds. Yes I know our daughter had trouble going back to sleep once she was tucked in between us because I was the person she was rolling on top of, yes I know you were the recipient of a few kicks here and there.

Yes I know that you don't do well on interupted sleep which is why I normally don't grudge you that extra 15 minutes each morning and when I do I suck it up reminding myself that you have to go out to a job and support us every day. Yes I know you can be a big grumpy bear when you think you've lost out on sleep but verbally attacking your daughter for just doing what comes naturally to her (you know, kind of like how being able to fall asleep quickly and being able to sleep all day if you have the option comes naturally to you?) is not OK. Then grumbling about how You don't have the option of a nap in the middle of the day with the unspoken phrase (like you do) tacked on to your condescending tone is not going to endear you to me. Especially since you will be taking off for the whole weekend with your buddies.

Did you know that you were actually sleeping through most of the 3 hours she was in bed with us? Did you know that she was actually sleeping for most of the 3 hours she was in bed with us? Did you stop to think that you have the option, and frequently take it (Like every day but Sunday) of lying in bed for a few extra minutes while I get up and visit the bathroom with her, give her breakfast, pour her milk and start the coffee and breakfast for us? Did you know that I don't get time off from my job? Did you know that I'm on call 24/7? Did you know that I am responsible for keeping up with her endless supply of energy and often don't nap with her in the middle of the day anymore? Did you know that you're coming off as a complete asshole dickweed douche bag?

I was just wondering

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

This lane is called Kiss and Ride. Let me help break it down for you. You KISS your child goodbye and then RIDE off into the sunset. Cool, right?

If you want to have a long conversation with the drop-off counselor, there's this great thing called a parking lot. Yes you have to get out of your car and walk 100 feet but you can count it as exercise. Let me know how it works out for you!

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

To my 20 year old step son who is home from college for the summer…..

I'm sorry. I lost my temper the other night… over toilet paper. I know, such a small little thing, except it was the 9 hundredth frigging time I went in and sat down only to find the toilet paper roll empty…again. When I herded your brother out to the family room and asked you, him and your dad who had left the toilet paper empty again? The correct response would have been, "Sorry, I did, I'll go change it" not "Sorry, I did' and continue texting your idiot friends. Dude, take yourself out of my sphere of anger, be a part of the solution.

This summer when it got close to the time for you to move back, I didn't cry like last year. I thought, OK, I'm a little older, wiser, mellower and you would be too. I gave you the benefit of the doubt that we wouldn't be dealing with all the self-centered crap again. I was really encouraged when, early on, you said you would take bathroom duty, because you really appreciated a clean bathroom. So, let's see, now that you've been home for 3 months how often have you actually cleaned it? Once. And then we had to ask you to clean it, and remind you, twice, and then you didn't get around to it until 8 pm.

And while we are on the topic of self centered; If you are going to sneak girls in the house in the middle of the night, when you let them out the sliding glass door, could you at least close it all the way once they're gone? You may think this is your own private brothel, but your dad and I aren't making any money off the deal, we can't afford to air condition the outside.

And don't park in the driveway. Seriously. We had this discussion a hundred times last summer. We have a one lane driveway, your dad and I park our vehicles in the drive, when you pull in, you block us. This may not seem like such a big deal until we have to wake your ass up at 7 am to move your car so we can go to work. And you bitch about it. There is plenty of room to park in the street, you're an athletic kind of guy, you can walk thirty feet to the door. I know this. We pay all the chiropractor bills from the injuries you sustain from dropping the girl cheerleaders on your head when you're 'stunting'.

I know you are working hard this summer, two jobs and a class to get through school. But when I come home from work to find the kitchen, family room, your room, stacked with dishes/cans/bottles from all the food you have consumed (yeah, that three pounds of boneless, skinless chicken your dad grilled up was supposed to be for all of us) and you are stretched out in the recliner playing X-Box or Wii or whatever it is, I get a little annoyed. Oh, and why the fuck do you get out of the recliner while it is still reclined and leave it that way?

One of your jobs is at a restaurant and you work until closing some nights. It is not OK to come in at 2 am and start making a full meal, banging around the kitchen, and slamming the microwave door (hell, even using the microwave which has one of the loudest frigging beepers I've ever heard, you don't know this stuff when you buy these things). Our bedroom is right behind the kitchen. Our house is small; you like to remind us that this means we are poor compared to your friends with the $400,000 homes.

But back to the toilet paper, how do we go through three times as much when you are home? What are you doing, padding your briefs? Your dad once told me you were a well endowed kid, TMI, I know; let's just leave it at that.

Your dad even sympathized with me for a minute because he's fucking tired of telling you to turn off the lights, only to come home (or get up in the night) and find half the lights in the house on.

And for the love of God, would you blow your freaking nose? I know you have allergies, we pay for all the shots. I know we have pets that make them worse, but if you can't blow it out, stop snorting it back into your head. Christ, you sound like coke addict with a cold.

After I went all crazy ass bonkers over the toilet paper, you told your dad you didn't want to stay here anymore, (God, if I'd known it was that easy I would have flipped a lot earlier). So why is all your shit still here? Pack it up and take up your mother's spare space. And by the way, for the rest of the summer, you are staying with her, in her tiny little condo, with your mono infected little brother. (We knew that chick was a skank).