Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Whining Between Spasms

It is officially, official. I am getting old.

I realize that this is not news to anyone who knows me, but apparently my back wanted to drive this point home. And it has.

I wish I could blame this on my heavy children who still insist I pick them up. I wish I could blame this on my husband and a wild night of contortionistic fun.

But,no. The most exciting thing I did yesterday was laundry. And today I wake up with back spasms that made getting out of bed a 15 minute process. Just turning onto my side is a scream-worthy activity. Ibuprofen, codeine, and muscle relaxants are no match for the power of these spasms.

The last time I was in this much pain, I was in labor. I guess I could try those old lamaze breathing exercises that I never used. Pant, pant, pant, pant, cleansing breath. Pant, pant, pant.

Oh, man! Now I remember why I begged for an epidural.

So what am I supposed to do? I've tried medication. I'm still in pain. I've tried breathing. What a crock. What's left? Meditation? Visualization?

Okay, I'm centering myself. I'm visualizing my back happy and healthy. I'm visualizing myself lying in a hammock on a warm, tropical beach. I'm visualizing my children running around in filthy clothes because I am never doing laundry again.

Oh, my aching back!

Ok, seriously what am I paying for here?

I send my kids to your private school  at a great expense to myself and my husband. I take part in all your stupid fundraisers, I show up to all the basketball games (even the girls games that only the parents want to show up for). I joined the frickin' PTF even though only 5-6 people ever show up and every time I have an opinion there someone tells me why that won't work, so I just go and sit and nod my head and smile. I am here every Monday and Friday to volunteer to work in the lunchroom even though Lord knows I have much better things I could be doing.  Ok, maybe I am hormonal, maybe I've been suffering from a midlife crisis lately. Actually, that may be unfortunate for you.  I am so sick of people's attitudes and I am not taking it anymore. When you tell me that the secondary school is not allowed to use the lunchroom anymore, I call bullshit. There is a room in this school (the one I help pay for) specifically made for eating lunches in and my kids aren't allowed to use it? Uh huh. Why is that I ask...first person tells me it's because the high school kids are pigs.  I don't think so. I'm here 2 times a week and have volunteered for more. I know the elementary is much more messy that secondary ever thought of being.  They're also 10 times as loud. It is a relief when the big guys come in. So I come to you to get it from the horses mouth, so to speak, and am told that it's because you are trying to cut down on the traffic through the elementary building and they are distracting the other students. I almost bought it. Except, remember that little thing about volunteering twice a week...yeah... I know the schedule. 1-3 grades are just coming in from recess, 4-6 are just going out. Who exactly is it that they are disturbing? Oh and what about that back door? The one that comes in from outside the building and doesn't go through the elementary? Don't suppose we could use that, could we?  Why should my kids who have done nothing wrong have to eat in a pokey little hole in the wall with no tables and 2 microwaves? Ok, so you've made your decision. Well, every time someone brings up the secondary, I'm going to give my opinion... in great detail. Have fun explaining it to other parents.....over and over and over. And each time I hear a new excuse, yeah....I'll figure out what is really going on. Oh and the 2 times a week volunteering thing? Find a new patsy. I've already explained to the other volunteers why I'm not coming in anymore. Friday is my last day. When the elementary students set the microwaves on fire AGAIN because of lack of supervision, have fun explaining it to their parents also.  You know, this issue and the dozens of other little issues that crop up frequently are not really that big of a deal. We will live with it, even though it is stupid and pointless and not well thought out, because again, no one wants my opinion. I will AGAIN bite my tongue and smile pretty and be kind and gracious, all the while swearing like a sailor in my head. But if the economy gets worse and we have to reevaluate  whether to reenroll our kids, you can bet these things WILL be taken into consideration. If it wasn't for the wonderful friends my kids have made, I would have pulled them already because I am sick of the bullshit. You hear all the time about how no one volunteers anymore and how things are only done by a worthy few.....you want to know why that is? Let me tell you a little secret....it's because they are the only ones willing to put up with the bullshit. Go ahead and pat them on the head, it's not enough for me anymore. Guess I will miss the volunteer breakfast again this year. Last year it was because I was busy voluteering while those worthy few were eating and no one thought to invite me, this year it's because it just isn't worth it anymore. Oh and when you can't pay the mortgage on the school anymore because students are dropping like flies.....I have no idea why that would be.....and don't offer me a "reward" for getting new students to sign up for the school...I'm telling them to run....run as fast as they can.
Whew, I think I may actually feel better now.

I Almost Spilled the Beans

So, I’ve been walking with this new friend lately and we discovered that we have this in common: we both really, really like our husbands.  She mentioned a mutual acquaintance of ours who really, really really DOESN’T like her husband much.

“I asked her,” said my friend, “’Well, why did you marry him then?’ and she said, ‘Well, I was kind of afraid that no one else would come along!’”

This morning, I was telling my husband that and I found myself on the verge of saying, “Who would possibly get married just because he or she was afraid of never getting married?”

In other words, who would sign up for this?

Because marriage, my friends, even to someone you really, really like, is HARD FUCKING WORK.  And even in my own life, where I love my husband and our kids to distraction and I consider myself pretty happy most days, there is a certain lure to only doing laundry for one person.  To making the bed and having it stay made until I decide to UN-make it.

There is a certain lure to cooking and eating just when I want to and just WHAT I want to, with no regard for anyone else’s likes or dislikes or nutritional needs.

Frankly, there’s even a certain lure to dating some new person who you haven’t yet seen throw up or have diarrhea. Someone who shaves before he spends an entire evening focused solely on YOU, trying to figure out how to get you naked.

I can’t figure out why ANY of us sign up for this marriage gig, frankly.  Ditto the parenting thing.

Please post this anonymously!  Thanks!

Therapeutic Whine

To my therapist:
Seriously, I am not paying $130 an hour to chat with you about your friends' place in Florida.  Or about alligators.  I like Curb Your Enthusiasm, too, but I'm not paying $130 to listen to you recount your favorite episodes.  I'm sure you meet a lot of interesting people in  your line of work, and normally, I love to gossip, really, but I'm not paying $130 an hour to gossip with you about your  friends and other patients. 
Maybe you can call me up sometime to chit-chat, but I'm paying you $130 an hour to talk about ME, okay?

Stop reading already

I'm tired of all these people complaining about mommy bloggers.  If you're not interested, why are you reading?

Monday, March 30, 2009

I'm tired of all these Mommy bloggers. We get it, you have kids. What I don't understand is why people think they're so great. . . .


 I started a blog so I had a place to vent. About my life. Including my family. Especially my family. Like my mother in law. She is a real doozy. My husband knows this, but I still try not to say too much. Even my own family.
I am an equal opportunity complainer.
Then my family found my blog. and they told each other. And everyone I know  So I can't complain about them any more. Or even talk too trashy.
Fuck. I can't say fuck. 

Now my blog has to be all rainbows and puppies and pictures of the kids.

So I start a new blog. A secret blog

I come up with a cool name and give my family secret identities and put no
pictures on it. I am freaking awesome. I so should have been in the CIA. I
do this all through blogger.

Using my own account.

Maybe this is why the CIA did not recruit me?

The damn thing is linked to my profile.

Yeah. They found it.

Now, I have to start all over again.

Fuck. Why are they all so good at tech stuff and always have to find me?
Cant a girl blab all her troubles and dirty laundry to the entire world and NOT have her family read about it?

Liars Make Me Sick

You're really starting to piss me off. When we first met you said you didn't really like me because I was too chippery.  I forgave you and put that behind us.
Me  and you became the best of friends and I spent lots of time hanging out with you and your family.
My daughter loves your family and this makes me happy as well.
However, recently you have begun to show your true colors.
I forgave you when you purchased the same Easter dress I was supposed to get for my daughter.  My mother went out and got a nicer one.
I let it go when you stole an idea of mine to surprise one of our friends who's husband had recently deployed.
I let it roll off of my shoulder when you explained your jealousy of my new camera and then went out of you way to lie to your husband to have your camera fixed for $200 dollars just so you could show it off to me.
I assumed you were ignorant when you made comments about never marrying outside your race because it was a sin.
I even assumed you didn't know better when you said "my people" could let the past go now that Obama is President.
I even defended you when you scheduled a cookout for the same day and time as another one of my friends and "forgot" to tell me that she had invited me there first.
Lately the friend who's husband deployed and I have been hanging out a lot and you have been acting like a bitch about it. You haven't expressed your dislike but her and I both see the change in your behavior.
But what you did yesterday has pushed me over the fucking edge.
Your daughter had a sleepover at my house with my daughter.  I called you the next morning to see if she could hang out with us for the day.
You said sure and expressed that you had no plans but to clean the house.
A few hours later you call and tell me to have her put on her shoes.  They were already on because her and my daughter were out front playing. 
I asked why and you said you wanted her to come home so you could take them to the park. The park that is directly across the street from me.
Strange I thought.  Why is it so important for you to take her to the park when she hanging out with my kid.  She never gets to get away from her brothers and she wasn't happy at all.
I sent her on her way and about 15 minutes later realized she left her slippers.  My daughter wanted to go to the park anyway so she hopped on her bike and we went across to the park. 
But guess what?  You weren't there.  Where the hell were you?  I went down the street to your house and there you were.  The kids were all decked out in there Easter clothes and you looked at me with guilty eyes.
"I thought you were going to the park." I said.  You stuttered for a moment and said that you had taken them but were now going to go to see the Cherry Blossoms and take pictures.
You lied.  I knew you lied and you knew I knew.  There was no fucking way you took all 4 of your kids to the park.  Took them back home and got them all cleaned up and dressed in the 20 fucking minutes it took for me to get to your house.  No fucking way.
Why lie?  Who knows?  Did you think I would want to come with you?  I didn't.  You have lost my trust and I don't know if I can be friends with you.  We'll see.......


The New Norm


Did I tell the hot guy I met this weekend about my blog? Not only will he see that I have no writing skills and I'm not as funny as I think I am, but now I can't write about him either......Or maybe I can because once he reads my blog I don't expect to ever hear from him again.

This is not show and tell

Don't bring your dog to work. It's work, we don't need dogs here. Your distracting everyone. (granted you are distracting them from the solitaire, on line shopping and useless conversing about "huntin" and "fishin" that they would normally be doing but still) So basically, I'm going to sit here all day and listen to everyone talk about your dog while nothing gets done. Way to go. I especially appreciate that you keep popping your head in to give work that you "dont have time to do" while you are in the other room with your DOG AT WORK! Oh good, now it peed on the floor....why do you all seem so pleased?

no duh

I yelled at my husband this morning because he hung his shirt on the "wrong door" and it got dirty. He blamed the washing machine.  umm. I'm all for getting a new washer/dryer but you hung your shirt over a non shirt hanging door.  Of effing course it got dirty.  Only the doors in the regular shirt hanging rotation have had the dust cleaned off from constantly having shirts pulled off of them.  Annoying.  And yes, i did TRY to explain the utility of the hanger in the shirt drying process - total face shutdown. no systems go. abort mission.


Just so you know, every day that you choose to further neglect our friendship diminishes the quality of your bachelorette party. Right now we are down to two party hats and half a six pack of Wine coolers, sitting in the basement watching the TV with rabbit ears that only gets three channels. (Half a six pack because I will have already drunk the other three so I can put up with your stupid ass for an hour without killing you)

now I'm really not in the mood

The moment I actually try to have a short conversation with you is not the time to totally ignore what I am saying, make suggestive noises and start staring down my shirt. I'm sorry if it hurt your feelings that I shut up immediately and didn't respond, but turning around and turning on a movie AGAIN instead of actually talking to me didn't help. How can you be such a random jerk?

Family Meals, The Whine

Belgian Waffle, that delicious thing, whined about family meals. Enjoy!

The phrase is enough to make me want to put out my eyes with bamboo skewers ('Handy for DIY kebabs! Show your kids veggies can be fun!' BITE ME). Cooking for my family is like an existential torture - an exercise in futility that must be repeated day in, day out until one of us dies, probably of malnourishment. Children, I get it. You want to eat nothing but chips, ketchup and ice cream and you want to do it in front of the tv. I really wish I could just let you, believe me I do. I am sure your efficient young bodies could derive sufficient nutrition from that healthy and delicious combo and god knows, your father and I ate in front of the tv every night before you arrived. But, no. Society demands that I must feed you a variety of things, and that we must eat together. Damn you, society. Do lion cubs get a varied diet? Does papa lion quiz them on their day over the gazelle carcass? I don't think so. But apparently we must eat together, because it's "precious family time". NO IT ISN'T. It's 'give your mother a frothing screaming breakdown time' (your father is still at work. Lucky bastard.).

Delightful family, I have some brief notes for ensuring I don't rip your heads off and cook them, next time. I am a reasonable person. Just, you know, take note.

Eldest son, the way you moan theatrically every single time you see what is for dinner, precious though it is, is wearing ever so slightly thin. What were you hoping for? Lobster Thermidor? Truffle risotto? Sea urchin consommé? No, I didn't think so. If you have meal suggestions, please inform the management who will suggest you do the damn cooking yourself. Also, one day you will realise that the strangely shaped strips of metal placed in front of you are useful tools for eating food. Short of administering a small electric shock every time I tell you to use your knife and fork I am currently at a complete loss how to convey this message to you. Until that day I must watch you eat peas singly with your fingers until I can feel my brain liquefying in my head. Also, if there is something to be wiped, of COURSE your jumper is the place to wipe it. That's why we wear clothes, right? Just, you know, use your clothes not mine. It's really no so much to ask is it?

Youngest son, of course it is your right to eat so glacially slowly that we are all weeping with boredom by the time you have eaten two tiny morsels of sausage. It is. But must you then demand every two minutes that I heat your food up again because "it's cold"? The reason it is cold is that we have had time to enter a new ice age since you started your tiny plate of food. Just chew, dammit! No, don't cry. CHEW.

Both of you, trust me when I say I am not trying to poison you. I have spent enough long fruitless hours keeping you alive; the last thing I want is to kill you now when you are finally starting to show some future earning potential. I mean, I want a decent class of retirement home one day, where the staff only beat me occasionally. If there is something on your plate that you do not recognise, please do me the great service of not RETCHING on sight. The fact that a foreign body (say, a green bean) is sitting on your plate should not be enough to make you vomit or scream. Does it have legs? Googly eyes? Is it trying to rip your head off? No? Then live with it. Of course, if I am crazy enough to suggest you try it, a screaming tantrum is totally appropriate. Totally. Knock yourselves out. I am just trying to familiarise you with the foods that the normal people eat, in case one day (god forbid) you actually have to eat with civilised human beings. I would hate for you to be terrified by a head of broccoli at your friend's house.

Also, if I ask one of you a question, in the spirit of making mealtimes more sociable and pleasant, such as "what did you do today?" please do not roll your eyes witheringly as if I am the most cretinous being on the planet or shout "I DON'T KNOW!", furiously. Believe me, I didn't really want to ask; I do not care. I am Making Conversation, like Society says we should. Just, you know, play along for a while. Humour me. Apparently it's good for us no, don't ask me why. Ask society.. I am too busy drinking gin.

Finally do NOT ask me how many more bites you have to eat. Just, don't. I don't negotiate with terrorists.

Bon appetit!

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Why, God, WHY?

I missed last week's Real Housewives of New York because I was on "vacation". So, I fake Tivoed it today and planned to watch it while folding laundry. A little happiness isn't too much to ask for is it? Except it was an episode from TWO WEEKS ago. And what's worse is that it took me 25 minutes of watching it to realize it.

Random Act of Shitiness

Dear Asshole:
Sometimes people are just trying to do a nice thing.  Like today at the movie theater?  When I asked you if you were going to see Monsters and Aliens?  I wasn't taking a survey, I wasn't going to ask you for anything.  We had purchased tickets online and had an extra ticket after my 4 year old bagged out.  I asked because you had an appropriately aged little boy and I thought it would commit a random act of kindness and give you a free ticket. Instead, you dismissed me and told me you were in a hurry. I hope you felt small afterward. You should.

Lazy ass husband

I am so damn sick of my lazy ass husband.  Who does he think he is?  Some sort of king.  I DON'T THINK SO.  Soon he is going to run out of flippin clean clothes and wonder what happened.  I know he goes to work and pays the bills but when he comes home does he have to start cleaning?  Nope, he gets to go sit his ass on the couch and relax in a clean house, with dinner ready.  So isn't that the way it should be when I go to work?  Nope, I worked my normal shift and came home to a disaster of a house, lunch drying up on the table and floor and him acting as if it was the worst day ever.  So do I get to sit down and relax after work???? HELL NO,  I started cleaning and cooking and giving the kids a bath and putting them to bed.  I had a 14 hour work day yesterday.  What did he do?  NADA!!!! Okay, I think I'm done (for the moment).
Thanks for letting me bitch

So I just

cleaned the downstairs toilet for the third time this week.  How does he do that?  It's like some said, "Blow it out your ass!" and he took them literally!


damn Russians had to post just to get them off my reader view

Friday, March 27, 2009


Pardon me, but I slaved over a blog badge for my page and do you think anyone is using it? NO.

Do you people know how difficult those things are to make?! Especially the code box?!!



Stupid drivers.

Why do idiot drivers stay in the left lane on two lane roads when they could easily pull into the right lane? This morning I was behind a guy in the right lane. I passed him on the left and then pulled back into the right lane. Didn't take him long to pull out around me and just stay in the left lane. Almost no other cars around. Was it a macho thing or just plain stupidity. And is it a Boston thing? Happens all the time on Route 2 and Route 9. Just pull the hell over.

Nicholas Sparks You Bastard

Reddaisies doesn't have her own blog. Yet. It's tragic, really. I mean Marinka's cat has her own blog. Or she should. Oh the stories that cat could tell.

Dear Nicholas Sparks,

Why must you make me cry every time? I hate you. Nights in Rodanthe? Really? Really?!! OMG!!

You are probably all wondering why I watch this shit. I don't know why. I must be some sort of masochist. I've read your stupid books that make me cry and your films that make me blat like a sniveling infant. You reduce me to a wailing puddle of tears.

Stop it already; not every story HAS to have someone die.

Could you possibly make ONE where it ends, "...and they lived happily ever after."?
I'm done with you Mr. Sparks.

Depressed Girl

P.S. When is the next one coming out?

Epic Fail

I forgot to START the dryer... again.  Damn it! 
Do you think my son will notice if his soccer uniform is wet? 

Dang =(

It's pathetic, but it makes me really sad when someone un-follows my blog. =(


really, coach?  the ugly lady bags? the best you could do? horrible.

More of a Question Than a Whine

What is the appropriate tip for your Brazilian?  Is 20% a sufficient way to say 'thank you for violently ripping the hair off my naughty parts'?
I don't want to tip too much, because then she'll think that I either enjoyed it or that I think I have a particularly difficult anatomy that caused her extra work.  But I especially don't want to tip too little, because I think it's a good general rule in life to not piss off the person who puts hot wax precariously close to your vay-jay-jay.
Any feedback/suggestions greatly appreciated.

Two can play that game

Hey Mr. 2009 BMW cute guy from this mornings commute,

I know you dont want to mess up your pretty little car by actually putting your cigarette butts in the ashtray, but when you brazenly flicked your Salem Light 100 out the window it hit my car.

2 points. Game on.

My exit was coming up, but I had just enough time to get in front of you and flick my giant piece of watermelon Hubba Bubba out the window before I exited.

Three points! Nothing but net! I mean, nothing but sticking to your shiny black hood.

BMW 2  - VW 3. Cinderella story.


Dear Dog,
Quit coming in several times in the middle of the night to flail your body against the bed. Yes, I know you're not built for jumping or much else. But if you throw yourself at the bed again tonight repeatedly to get up, I might have to set you up in a nice little bungalow I like to call the Crate Cabana. No, I will not reach over to drag you up on the bed repeatedly, as we tried that and you just leave as soon as you see the top of the bed. Why is it you can get down in a flash, but not back up....

Sick of....

my brother's wife. I never cared for her. But after 15 years, I had reached a point of friendly acceptance.  My brother is seriously ill. She is calling the shots. If she played basketball, she would have been benched before she put on the uniform socks.

All creatures great, small and tasty....

I'm married to a vegetarian. I often see people make that I-just-ate-a-lemon-face when they hear this. Oh my, WHAT does he eat??? I always ant to say plastic fruit. Why must people say, doesn't he know that's why God put animals on earth, for us to eat. Okay, I happen to believe in God. But I also believe in choice, and my husband's chooses not to eat Paulie the Pig, Cathy the Cow and their friends. Can't we leave God out of it?

Watch out for the frying pan coming toward you

I hate loud food. I hate celery, chips, and anything crunchy. To me, loud food is like fingernails on a chalkboard... unless, of course, it is me eating it. Pass the chips...

Thursday, March 26, 2009

What kind of Grandmother has 9 grandchildren ranging from 1 - 12 years old and house filled from top to bottom with glass and breakable (crap) art?

The kind doesn't get visits from my kids...so quit bitching!!

PS Although I secretly wish one of my kids would smash one to pieces!

No more birthdays!

Today I discovered that I will no longer do birthdays.      (Bear with me on this one, people . . .)


Earlier this week I received countless phone calls from my fellow co-workers wondering what "we" we doing about two other employees' birthdays that happen to fall within this week.  And so I decided that a pizza luncheon today would be good.


So yesterday I tell one co-worker that we would like to have pizza today in honor of her birthday, and she replied, "Oh good!  We can get a Margarita pie!"


I then proceed to inform the other employee who said.  "I won't be there!" 


"Why?  Do you have something else planned?"


"No" he replied.  "It's just that I've been having all of these stomach problems and I just can't eat anything.


"Well, will you sit with us while we eat?  Do you want me to order something else?"


"No, don't worry about me." he said.  "I'll bring a hard boiled egg over and eat it."  And, although I thought we were in agreement, later in the day he mentioned a luncheon engagement. . . "Lunch?" I inquired?


"Oh yes, we've been trying to get together for months and this seemed like the only day that would work. . .so I won't be at the birthday luncheon."


I shrugged my shoulders and walked away. . .


So along comes the big day. . . And I ask the birthday girl this morning what kind of cake she would like.  "Brownies!" she declared, "Homemade brownies!"


"Well" I reply, "We're a little too late for that!" but proceed to run to the nearest store and buy some gourmet brownies.  


Later, after the pizza had been ordered but before it arrived, she asked, "What kind of pizza did you get?"


To which I replied, " I ordered a Margarita and some plains."


"Plain?" she quipped.   "Who likes plain pizza?  Why didn't you get onion? You like onion, don't you????"

"Well the maintenance guys called earlier specifically to say that they wouldn't come unless we had plain pizza.  Besides, you wanted the Margarita.  Didn't you?"


"Well, yeah. . . but. . . "


Well anyway, when the pizza arrived I informed the grumpy-all-week secretary that I was taking the pizzas to the Ministry Center and would she put a note on the door stating the office was closed. . .   "Sure" she winced, "I may not come, but. . . "  And after about ten minutes she showed up stating, "I thought you were in the Community Room.  That's what I wrote on the note!"


When who follows her but the missing birthday boy who turns to me and says, "Liar! Liar!  Pants on fire!"  (Yes, he literally said this . . . .)




 "You put a note on the door saying you were in the Community Room when really you were in the Ministry Center!!!!"  After which, he – and his sensitive stomach – proceed to wolf down three pieces of pizza – with no hard boiled egg in sight!


When the birthday girl turns to me and says, "This Margarita pizza stinks!  Did you ever see such thin crust????"


And then, when the birthday brownies were served, the birthday boy wanted his warmed in the microwave and wondered where the vanilla ice cream was. . .



Do you remember Ralph Cramden????   "To the moon, Alice.  . . .to the moon!!!!!!!"


And would it help if I told you that I work for a church?  And the birthday boy was a priest??????????


You can visit my blog if you want to, but remember, this is SECRET SPINELESS WHINE!!!!


I hate snow. I know it's all beautiful and all that crap. Blah, blah, we needed the water, blah, blah, something about fires, blah, blah, blah. But seriously, I just shoveled snow for three hours, am wind burnt and aching and now? Now it looks like I did nothing out there.

I'll take earthquakes in LA any day over this crap.



I'm Scared

My head hurts, my neck is tied up in knots, and I’m incapable of smiling.  Our first marriage counseling appointment is tonight, and I’m scared stiff.  I know it’s not magic, and it would take time, but I also know that if this doesn’t work, it’s over.


Help me!  I'm being held hostage by Sears.  I bought a new dishwasher on 3/16.  It was to be delivered and installed 3/26.  They called on 3/24 "it's in".  Yay. 
Then ....  nothing.
I called 3/25 to see about setting up an installation appointment.  "That department's gone for the day."  Really?  I want to work there!
3/26 called and got an 800 number for the installers.  Their computer system has no record of my sale.  Called back the store, they'll work on it.
So the lady calls me back - the installer "will try to call tomorrow (FRIDAY) to see about setting up installation for next week".  NEXT WEEK, are you kidding me.
Hello - FAMILY of FIVE.  DISHWASHER.  Feel my pain people.

Dear IT Dept...

Please come look at my desk, please.  'Cause of your brilliant idea to convert to some new software that behooves you, I have a desk that looks like a depository for a ...shredder?  That's where I'm headed.  Someone also suggested a machete to get through it all.  I think a match'll do it.  Jes sayin'...
Desktopless in Atlanta

F*ing stop it already

Whoever is posting all the Russian, its getting really really old. No one is amused. Stop it.

Be on time or go away

Hey, You! Inept co-worker. If your scheduled to be at work at six SHOW UP AT SIX! Don't leave me here by myself for two hours answering phones and then show up at eight and say "oh sorry man. I had a rough night last night" And YOU! Inept boss. MAKE PEOPLE SHOW UP FOR THE TIMES THEY ARE SCHEDULED OR FIRE THEIR ASSES! What the hell kind of office is this? I know your all busy smelling each others farts and talking about "huntin" and "fishen" all day but for the love of all that is good and holey, can we at least attempt to get some work done around here?

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

I don't even have the words...well except IKEA SUCKS!!!

I was actually brought to tears today...seriously...because I was so angry after I got off the phone with an IKEA customer service rep.


I still can't start blogging all the details yet because I start to hyperventilate, but eventually I'll provide all the gory details.


To make a long story short...they are thieves. They charged me for 5 large containers instead of 1 large and 4 small...difference of 16 lousy dollars. I called as soon as I got home and saw that my receipt was wrong (which I never even actually do, but decided to because my sister was charged for 2 of something she only bought 1 of). This is an item that I specifically told the cashier that I had different size items of and to please UNSTACK them and make sure to ring the up individually.


And what was the wonderful reaction of customer service today (the short version...trust me...) - they reviewed the security footage (I'm sure) and that I did in FACT buy 5 large containers and they would NOT credit me the difference.


PLEASE tell me how is this possible when I am sitting at home with ONE large container and FOUR small ones?!?!?


When I told him that they stacked exactly the same way - that they would never be able to tell the difference on the security footage (that I KNOW they didn't watch), I was informed that I was wrong - they do NOT stack together the same way.


So...I am a thief AND I'm performing magic tricks at home...oh GOD, I'm starting to hyperventilate again....


Julie B.


That got me thinking. . .

I haven't had new clothing since August. Some of my shirts have shrunk, while others have been discolored or some other freakish thing has happened to them. My jeans are still good, nothing wrong in that department. All of my socks are gone except maybe two pairs. I need new underwear and some bras too. . . .

But there is this stuff called money and I don't have it.


Niagara Falls

The problem with having a hotel room that is facing the Niagara Falls is that you have to pee ALL THE TIME.

why don't people look before they leap

Why don’t people use Outlook calendars to figure out when you’re free or when you’re busy before booking a meeting?   


It’s been AT LEAST a month and a half since I bought any shoes, and I’m starting to get the DTs!!!  And even though today is payday, all that money is already earmarked and I can’t even get a tenner’s worth of faux leather with a kitten heel…




You should have gone with the nose job instead of the boob job.  Sure, now you have two huge floatation devices to save you should someone ever be annoyed enough to push you off a cruise ship, but you're still ugly.

Bra Adjustment Day

It's weird how in many workplaces you get vacation days, and personal days and sick days, but no Bra Adjustment days. Because after I buy a bra, even if I *think* that the straps are perfectly adjusted, I spend the day adjusting them. And it's hard to get other stuff done.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

In the beginning . . .

I didn't put the Secret Spineless Whine button on my blog because my daughter reads my blog and I didn't want her to recognize me saying unmotherly things like "leave me the fuck alone in the morning!"
I'm past that..  I don't care.  She has days like that too : )  Plus, she's too busy with 2 small children to do much following-of-buttons.
So, now that I'm all fired up to add the Secret Spineless Whine button to my blog?  Turns out I'm unable.  Because I'm stoopid. 


Is it because I'm bitter and jealous or is this tough to stomach?

Subversive Advertising

Lately when I click the back button to return from a blog to the reader at MyYahoo, it doesn't work.  Just stays on the blog.  Back, back, back. I click the drop down arrow beside the back button and the history says blog name, BlogHer, BlogHer, BlogHer, then, finally MyYahoo.  'Scuse me?  When I hit BACK I expect to go BACK to the last page I was on. 
MESSAGE to BlogHer:  Stop trying to hold me hostage, bitch. 
Stop humming in the bathroom.  "I Feel Pretty" while you're on the can is just RIDICULOUS.

Skinny Jeans - NOT!

I bought some skinny jeans.  I wore them all weekend.  I didn't lose a pound.  I taking the fuckers back.

Dear Husband

I was going to scrape your plate for you last night after dinner.  Well when you gave me that cockeyed look, that said "Hey I wasn't done with that", I let it be.  And not only did you not eat your dinner, but you lovingly left the plate with all the gravy soaked food still on it, gracing the kitchen counter.  Where I found it this morning.  So thank you for the extra working doing dishes.  I really didn't have enough dishes to do by hand, because we have no dishwasher.  Oh, wait, that's right... you think we do.  And her name is Missy.


I hope you get e coli (Cont.)

(Note to self, do not hit enter button while typing) As I was saying before I so rudely interrupted myself. .....WASH YOUR HANDS!!!  USE SOAP!!!!! You people are disgusting. WTF is wrong with you? NASTY!

I hope you get e coli

You are adults. This is an office. WASH

Are you out there?

I hate it when I go to get my fix and there are no new whines.  Where are you whiney people?  I need you to feel better about my sorry, pathetic existence.

girl parts

I have to go to the vagyno today. Need I say more?

Don't Tell my Dentist...

…but I’m very much afraid I have a cavity!  Since it’s been, oh, two years or so since I’ve been to the dentist, and I now get enough of a twinge when I chew on the left side that I’ve abandoned doing so entirely, I’m no longer able to live in denial that soon enough I must face the dreaded chair and drill.


Because I LOVE that so much.  Thanks, chocolate.

My Whine

Dear Kids in My Sons Preschool Class -
Quit screwing up my kid!
When he entered preschool he was the sweetest boy. Now he thinks farts are funny and poop is down right hysterical. Who taught you these things? And when did falling on the ground become so funny? Really... screaming in that strange whiny voice is that funny? It's enough to send me over the edge! We need to work on your sense of humor. You..the one with the finger up your nose...please for the love of God stay far away from my son! And to the hussie who professes her love to him everyday....are you kidding? You're four! Find another man to lust after, leave my sweet innocent boy alone! He used to love to cuddle but now that is quickly becoming uncool. The minute he quits holding my hand....he's out!!!
Thanks for listening and if you hold up your end of the bargain, there will be a little something extra for you next time we bring in the snacks.
- a grateful mother-

How to Shine Up Your Husband

Hearing Liz talk about raising teenagers at A Mom on Spin scares the shit out of me. Wait, can I curse here? Oh yeah, it's half my blog and Marinka's someplace with only dial-up internet. Who's going to stop me?

Okay, my friends. I have discovered the secret to making your somewhat-used and tarnished husband look like a proverbial Knight in Shining Armor.

Make an appointment for your teenage daughter to see a therapist!

Just think about it. . . No father worth his salt is ever going to let his daughter walk into a therapist's office and start letting it all fly without a bit of defensive p.r. work on his part.

I suppose I'll have to use my own husband as a case in point by tallying the number of doctors' appointments I have taken just one hypothetical daughter to in her eighteen years on this earth:

Pediatrician ~ 44
Dentist ~ 39
My mouth is too crowded orthodontist - 36
My diggies are dold speech therapist ~ 51
My joints hurt rheumatologist ~ 40
What blackboard? opthamologist ~ 8
Would you look at my face! dermatologist ~ 8
I think I broke my foot trips to the emergency room ~ 3
Yes, you definitely broke your foot trips to the orthopedist ~ 6
And you'll need physical therapy for that physical therapist ~ 18
Now, if I could handle all of these issues by myself, why - suddenly - is that man so helpful?

You know, Liz, I could help you out. I'll take the afternoon off and bring her to her appointment. Someone please tell me: Who is the man who just uttered that phrase? Does he not know that I'm on to him?

He wants to be the one to give her the talking points on the way there . . . Now remember, if she asks you anything about me, tell her I'm a wonderful dad who's just looking out for your best interest. . .

He wants to appear to be Johnny on the Spot - because, Lord knows, some misguided therapist just might accuse him of absenteeism. . .

And he wants to be the one, when called in for a consult after she's finished, to say . . You know, I've been telling her mother for years that we ought to bring her for some therapy. . .

Yes, my dear Hubby, I'm on to you!

But, go ahead and take her if you insist.

Oh, and, just so you know, I've already given her the talking points. . .

Remember, if she asks about your father, tell her it's all his fault!

Monday, March 23, 2009


I am terrible about answering e-mail. Terrible, terrible, terrible.

However, if someone doesn't answer my e-mails... I get pissed.

We Call That a User Error

Let the blackberry die over the weekend.  Plugged blackberry in to charge first thing this morning.  Big deal going down in the next few hours and need to be available, but don't want to be in the office.  Note to self:  blackberry only charges if the USB end is plugged into the computer.  Son of a bitch.

whine whine whine

Why in the bloodyfuckinghell did I agree to go on vacation with my MOTHER IN LAW for a week?
On a train...to California? She eats with her mouth open and bites the fork...she considers kraft "real cheese" for christ sake.
I'm taking a flask and that is that.

jamey r @http://cookingfromthedge.blogspot.com/

Watch out for Blunt objects

Know what makes me feel like picking up the nearest blunt object and ramming into your ear????? Your so called "tough life" ….do NOT sit there and cry about your tough life to a single parent…who works her ass off to put food on the table for her child….who drives around in a "hope it gets me there" 2000 POS…..who has to budget out every penny that comes in…..to make sure my son can play baseball…or go to a movie….While you sit there….in your spacious 3 bedroom home..with your in-ground pool your "adoring" husband who makes a pretty penny in his family business…your biggest concern of the freakin day being should little Suzie watch Dora the Whora or the f'ing wiggles…..you call ME up your only single parent friend and tell ME how tough the economy is how you might not get to take that second trip to Disney this year……………..are you freaking out of your mind???? Holy Hell….i wish my life was so complicated!!!!……oh by the way…call me when the pool is opened….so I can come up and swim…..


your very jealous friend.....

I'm afraid

that if you start coming home at a decent hour when work isn't so overwhelming for you that we'll start fighting again.  And that I'll spend most of my day trying to get you to calm your temper about stupid ass shit, like why you can't sit on paper towel rolls in the store, or why telling the idiot kid at the register how to give you proper change when you "trip them up" by giving them extra bills after they put in your $10 into the register, or when your Baby's Mama is acting a fool again and not wanting you to pick up your kid until she's been home for an hour even though you have an hour drive to and from to see her.

Really I love you, but I can't be around you for longer than the 2 hours at night and possibly some time in the morning, because you stress me the fuck out!

Please stay at work or out of trouble or whatever.


Your Loving GF.

Mondays are Stupid

I hate this day. 'Nuff said?


Just freaking tell me!

I know you had a meeting last week about weather or not to eliminate my position. I KNOW YOU KNOW what you are going to do because you freaking told me you had a meeting about it last week. Stop making me sweat, stop dangling my job loss in front of me. I know you probably want to wait until Friday to avoid "an incident" But seriously, I'm a big girl. I can handle it. I'm giving you a no incident guarantee.  Just freaking tell me so I can move on! I can't take the uncertainty.

Curse Words Make Jesus Cry

I would like to apologize to everyone for Amy's using a curse word while introducing our Featured Whiner earlier today. I have been praying for Amy to stop cursing, but so far it hasn't been working. Fuck.

Why SecretSpineless Makes me feel like a LOSER

Every time the posts in Cyrillic pop up, I am reminded of the fact that I majored in Russian language in college.  And that now I have to sound out each word as if I am a Russian pre-schooler, and even then I can't remember what it means. 

That was four years well spent.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Whining Here So I Don't Whine There

My Darling,
I know things suck.  Big time.  I know that things are totally uncertain right now and whether or not we can survive this is debatable.  I know that you're feeling totally conflicted about me and us and everything.  I get it.  I'm generally pretty patient with it because God knows I've done enough to damage your faith and trust in the past.  But when you go from affectionate and cuddly and damn-near-loving to angry and resentful and distant in a matter of moments, it gives me whiplash.  I was happy today, and in five minutes time most of that was gone and I was left struggling to hang on to a smile for the kids.
And I hate it that you didn't text me back, because now I don't know if you're still totally angry and depressed and staring at the ceiling in your bed unable to sleep.  Which means I'll be staring at the ceiling in my bed unable to sleep too, waiting for the next clue to the mystery of our future.
I love you, but loving you really sucks right now.

What A Wonderful Day to Hit the Slopes! Hopefully not litereally!

I haven't skied since 1995, but I think today is the perfect day to start! Ok, so I could only get my ski suit up half way, and some people would see that as a sign, but not me!


Well, at least there haven't been any high profile news stories about skiing recently...

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Of course I agree ! No, wait. . .

I'm pretty liberal about clicking "yes" on terms of use, but the lawyer in me thinks this one goes too far . . .

Without limitation, we shall exclusively own all now known or hereafter existing rights to the suggestions of every kind and nature throughout the Universe

I'm Too Tired for This Crap

I have teenage daughters... they are out tonight... I want to go to bed... but I can't... because if I do... who will be waiting up for them to make sure that they know that people wait up for them... to make sure they don't do anything they shouldn't do... and that they get home by precise o'clock... and this is my lot in life.
Dear Dad,

When my daughter does something obnoxious and I take her ipod away for the afternoon and you say "I would have taken it away for a year" and I say "that's a bit of an overeaction" and you say, "ok, if you can't exert any authority over your children" it makes me really not want to get you a Happy Father's Day card.

Featured Whine: Left Field Missy

I love watching Rachel Maddow. She is awesome. Watching her show makes me feel more like a grown-up. And like I am keeping up on world events, at least as they are seen by the Democrats.

She did a story the other night that is still getting to me. It was about KBR (formerly a subsidiary of Halliburton). The focus of the story was the crappy electrical work KBR has been doing in Iraq and Afghanistan. The story totally needed to be run. But in the peice she mentioned how KBR has been paid billions (with a B) to work along side our military. Billions that they keep in an off shore account so they don't have to pay taxes. I am pretty sure she was pointing out the fact that our government pays Good money for this crappy work.

I am still stuck on these billions we are paying them...To do what our military gets paid crap to do. They do most of the same jobs that our military does. They have lost less than 100 lives in the war on terror. As opposed to our military who have lost more than 4000. And I will give it to KBR, they pay thier workers well. And it's really not thier fault. If someone is going to give you a bar of gold, why would you not take it?

I blame our government for this. They are the ones who took bids on these contracts. They asked for a company like this to thrive.

How in the hell does our government pay this company billions of dollars to do what our troops do, while some of our troops are on food stamps? I live near Norfolk, VA. I see it all the time. Troop's families struggling to get by. KBR employees, who work overseas, make a bigger paycheck than most doctors or lawyers. Which baffles me when I think about my friend who is in the Navy and has a hard time keeping clothes on his 3 kids. And don't think for 1 minute he is an E1! He is a career military man, a lifer. And for what? He should have left the military early and went to work for KBR. He would have had a better survival rate and Way higher pay!

How does our government get away with this? And why do they think it's ok? Needless to say I am pissed about this whole business. My elected officials are not speaking for me if they thought I would choose this.

Ok, stepping down off the soap box now. Thanks for listening.

Life In Left Field

Paying Monthly for Not Paying Attention

Boy, do I need to start balancing my checkbook again!  My bank's been charging me (read "ripping me off") every month for a service I'm not using. 

Did you know that banks charge you for downloading account transactions via Quicken?  So, ironically, I've been paying my bank for the ability to balance my checkbook online, which I have not been doing, or else I would have caught that charge!!!  Yes, I've been paying for my ignorance.  Grrrrrrr! 

Luckily, the customer service rep told me of the work around (downloading the transactions via the bank's site and importing them into Quicken), and she refunded 3 months of charges. 

Unbalanced in Raleigh

March Meltdown

Really, Ohio State? I mean, really?




Disappointed in Dayton

Friday, March 20, 2009

A whiney rant from years gone by.

When people call to speak to me, and hubby gets to the phone first, he lies and tells them I'm not there, or I’m asleep, but will get me to call back when I get back or waken up. – yeah, I know, people think that I sleep all the time, when actually I might be in the bathroom, or in the garden or wherever!


Then he doesn't tell me anyone called, & if I’d heard the phone ring, & I ask who was on the phone, he'll say it was either a wrong number or a sales call.


A few days later, friend calls back and he further lies that he did tell me they’d rung, and he's surprised that I didn't return their call.


After a couple of years of this, even the best of friends stopped calling me.


I hear you saying that I should call them, but when I call them & he’s at home, he sits next to me on the sofa trying to listen in. And since he doesn’t work, he’s always home!


What he doesn't like is that now, when friends are told "No, she's not here right now, but I'll get her to call you back" Mrs T emails me at work, so the next day I know she called, so I can call her back in my coffee break.


Miss V & Mrs L know its better just to not bother calling me, so that we avoid the agro, and we keep in touch by email & sms, and we arrange our gurlie nights in/out by email.


Unfortunately, other friends, in the 17 years since we've been together, decided that if I wasn't gonna call back when they were expecting it, they didn't wanna be friends any more.

I lost a lot of friends that way. Without even knowing what happened to them! When I called them, they were too polite to ask how come I hadn’t called back the previous week etc.


And it wasn’t until one particular friend decided to confront me about never calling her back that I found out that this was going on, and had been for years.


It’s just one more way that hubby’s alienated me from my friends and family so that he can be as manipulative and controlling as he is, without me having any external support.

They slowly chip away at your self confidence until there’s nothing left, and you begin to believe that you’re as worthless as they’re suggesting.


I’d just like to point out that I would get rid of him immediately if I could, but he’s created a financial situation where it’d be almost impossible to manage without his presence. (For now)


I'm having a root canal this afternoon. I hope that this whine is self-explanatory and no one needs further information.

Dear Russian Spammers

You know that we won the Cold War, right?

(seriously, we did win it, didn't we? Why don't they teach this shit in high school?)


I just pulled a muscle sitting at my desk- wtf??
I've been here like 3 hours and finally finished my blog post...can I go home?
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T
Dear Co-Workers,
Your inability to figure out how to do your job is annoying.  It is. 
Your inability to figure out how to use our computer system is even more annoying.  Don't make me hurt you.
It is not an IT issue if you cannot figure out how to run a merge command in Microsoft Word.  It is a YOU problem.  Go to training.  That's why we have it.
If you interrupt me one more time today, they will never find your body. 
Thank you,
The Bitch in the Corner Office
This email and any files transmitted with it are confidential and intended solely for the use of the individual or entity to whom they are  addressed. If you have received this email in error please notify the  system manager. 

Neighborhood Dogs

PLEASE. When I have my dogs in my own front yard, know that I do indeed have control of MY dogs. They may not be on a physical leash, but  do indeed have control. If I did not, I would not have them out or I would have them on a line.
That is not an invitation for you to let YOUR dog off their leash and let them come running into my yard. My VERY LARGE boxers are not going to take kindly to your yapping mini poodle snapping at their feet. Their are TWO of my dogs. There is one of yours. My dogs have home court advantage. Your dog is invading their territory. My dogs are protecting their family. Your dog is an annoying asshole.
When my dogs proceed to stomp your little fur bag to the ground like a greyhound chasing a rabbit and then just look at me with tail wagging, the appropriate response is not for you to scream at the top of your lungs like e little girl, "NO, No, No, No, LET HIM GO! GET OFF HIM YOU BAD DOG!"
We didn't invite you over. If you are going to let your dog off leash onto my property, have some control.
And the command is simply "off" and they will leave your shitty little poodle alone.


Oh, yeah

I also keep forgetting to post my blog address here because there aren’t nearly enough funny, snarky, whiny people making comments there, and that pisses me off.


It’s at diapersanddragons.blogspot.com if you care.  Which you probably don’t.  Since you are all being so silent and holier-than-thou today, apparently.  Blech.




There is not NEARLY enough whining going on here.  I rely on blogs to get me through the day, and the whines posted here give me that extra chuckle that allow me to survive fifteen more minutes of life.  Instead, I get this gobbledeegook Cyrillic filling up the spots on my blog reading list and NO WHINING!!  Well, at least in any language I understand.

So stop being so silent and noble, people, and whine already!

Crime may pay, but not well

I'm stealing my neighbor's WiFi, but the signal keeps going out. What's the point of this life of crime that I chose if I can't enjoy it?!!?!?!

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Maybe Food Network?

Dearest, darling Hubby,
I appreciate that when we have kids in the house and we retire to our room for a little QT you always turn the TV on so the kids will hear that instead of us.  But The Golden Girls?  Really?
Your loving, but always whining, wife,


Dear Local CBS Station:
Do you seriously think that I want to watch Ellen instead of the NCAA first-round games? Really? I mean, I like Ellen. I'm a big fan. Huge. But this is bracket time, baby. And besides, I really don't like you doing my thinking for me, thank you very much. I'm sure you thought, "It's mainly women at home right now and they'd take Ellen over basketball any day." Wrong, wrong, wrong. I know I can watch online, and I am, but I'd rather see the games on my nice HD screen instead of my laptop. Please rethink this decision. Do not make me come find you and throw a basketball through your window.
-- Cathy

Do You Even KNOW What You Are Listening To???

Sitting with another mom, talking about our kids. Moms do that. She was telling me how much her son likes to rock out to one of those Disney movie sound tracks: Camp Rock, High School Musical or one of them, I don't even remember. We were laughing about they way the kids make up or misinterpret the words from songs, just how funny it is (Erin thought Carrie Underwood's Before He Cheats on Me was "Before He Eats Cheese on Me" HA!)
Then I mention Haley and Erin rocking out to Gwen Stefani.
She gets this look of disgust on her face. Like I just admitted I peddle my kids on the Internet as child porn.
"I don't allow my children to listen to artists like that. We stay with things like Kidz Bop"
Um, Hello, whose songs do you think they are on Kidz Bop?
Kidz Bop 13 Party Like a Rockstar, anyone?

(SSW management is attempting to fix the YOU TUBE link, please stand by. Not so close. I can't work with you looking over my shoulder like that.)


Bathroom Etiquette

To the dirty girls in the bathroom:
#1. We are sick of wiping up your pee or accidentally sitting on your sprinkle. I can certainly identify with the, "Eww, it's a public bathroom sentiment", but I can't hover, unless it's a handicap stall with the bars on each side. When hovering, one happens to have difficulty not pissing everywhere but the cool clear waters of the toilet bowl. It goes on my pants, or stockings, the toilet seat, the floor... I can't friggin aim! I know this because the few times when I have been horrified enough by the lack of cleanliness in some disgusting excuse for a bathroom to not sit, I experience the unpleasant aforementioned pee all but where it is supposed to be. So, ladies, if I may call you that, (and I do use the term loosely) wipe it up for Gods sake if you are too pristine to place your princess ass on the shitter!!!
#2. While we're at it, I must say that if you need to poop, why in the name of all that is good and holy, must you do it in the public four staller? If it the only option, fine, drop anchor, but typically that should be the LAST RESORT. Out of consideration for you, I will walk down the few flights of stairs to find the bathroom that is a single staller, away from the noses and ears of the rest of the world. I may even hold it in until I get home to my very own throne. I will do that for you, why must you poop and fart right next to me? WHY?!!!

Because Misery Loves Company, Even if I Hate You

I wish I could do more than key your car.  I wish I could bring myself to contact your wife and tell her what a cheating, lying, faithless slut of a husband she has, but I can't because you have kids, goddamnit.  I hate that you get to continue on in your tidy, merry little life with a clueless wife and a piece on the side, one who doesn't have that inconvenient emotional crap creeping in that you said was the only thing you regretted about us.  I hate that I have to deal with the aftermath of what I did and face my consequences and you don't.  I hate that you don't even seem to care that I ignore you and won't even say hello back to you!
I wish you were as miserable as I am. I just wish it were possible without making your family miserable too, because I don't wish on them what I have done to mine.
You bastard.

Museum Torture

The kids and I are spending the day together today.
"Let's go to a museum!" I chirp.
"OH, GOD! THE MUSEUM!" the moan. Because apparently "museum" is kidspeak for "labor camp".
After high level negotiations, complete with AIG-executive level incentives, we agree to go to the Guggenheim. Only wrinkle is that it's closed today.
Negotiations resume, but are aborted when I say "WE'RE GOING TO THE MET AND THAT'S FINAL!"
Pouting. Moaning. Gnashing of teeth.


Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Mostly Wordless Whining

Why are my Grandmother's hands attached to my body?
I'm sick and there are a million dishes piled up in the sink. Mom was a soldier and attempted to tame the beast, but only got halfway. She did what she could. But now, the beast is angry. ANGRY. But I feel like shit, and I don't think anyone is going to do them all. Sigh.

WTF is with the Russian?

Is anyone else a bit wary of the endless Russian stuff?

I'm bored

and possibly boring as well, which doesn't help things.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009


I'm going to Whole Foods later today and I predict that there will be a huge line to pay. I am already annoyed about it, so I'm saving time by whining about it now. This will clear up my evening to stand in line.

I'm out, you suck

Just for your information, in a friendship, it is generally considered polite and the mark of a good friendship to say...call the other person from time to time. I can count on one hand the number of times you have contacted me in any way (phone, email, a freaking poke of facebook) over the past year and a half. We once went 8 months without speaking. The reason? I stopped calling you. I just wanted to see how long it would take you to call me. 8 months? Seriously??? WTF? If you hadent gotten engated to that complete asshole we may never have spoken again. And somehow you still want to be my best friend and expect me to be in your wedding. I dont freaking think so. Your fiance is an asshole to me, you have completely neglected our friendship for at least the past 5 years. I will be in your horrible travesty of a wedding since I have already purchased the dress. I will even consider being there when you get divorced in 3 years. I'm sure thats the next time I will hear from you after your wedding since you only call me when you need something. But rest assured that I will be out of town the weekend of your shower and I'm considering having the flu the night of your bachelorette party. If you expect me to do one more damn thing for your wedding you can contact me. I'm not calling you anymore with advice, or to listen to you bitch about your fiance (whom apparently you hate) I'm going to do for your wedding exactly what you did for mine...which was a whole lot of nothing. Other than that dear friend, I'm out, I'm done. Perhaps you can get your new asshole husband to treat you better and maybe that cheating whore that you like so much will be your new best friend. Our friendship has withered on the vine and it all your fault. 

My Next Manicure Better Come With a Happy Ending

Why is it that my manicures always start to chip exactly 3 days after I get them? Chip, chip, chip. Even if I don't touch anything for those three days with my delicate, freshly-painted hands. But then it takes industrial strength acetone / paint thinner and an old Brillo pad to remove the rest. And why does it feel like I also scrubbed my fingerprints off? Y'all know what I'm talking about.
My four year old and I have very different definitions of the phrase "quiet time"

No Irish About It

My kids were adopted from Haiti. There is not one drop of Irish blood in them. Stop trying to slap a shamrock on them and leave them alone!

My ass is fat

And I'm not sure who to blame . . .


You have never been to Ireland. You don't even know anyone who has ever been to Ireland.
The fact that your mother's maiden was vaguely Scottish-sounding, and that you like to eat corned beef and that you are a functional alcoholic does not mean you are actually Irish. So, give it up already!

Harem Pants?

Seriously, Anthropologie? You are featuring harem pants for spring? Do the words "horrible mistake," "butt ugly" and "what the hell were they thinking" mean nothing to you?
Cathy Wood

Monday, March 16, 2009

we don't have any money and i want to cry :(

Re: From Donnovan Housen.


I will like to start with reminding you that your unclaimed inheritance is
still lurking around, up till now I am amazed at the way you have ignored all
the notice I have sent out to you. This message will be the last notice that I
will be sending out to you.

Upon the receipt of this mail I will want you to reconfirm to me your details
and also tell me the reason why you have kept quiet all the while; I do believe
you should have a logical answer to that. I also will like for you to know that
I have some new developments on ground which I believe will be good news to you.

I will advice that you do not abandon this message and respond as a matter of
urgency so that we can get done with your claim.

Best regards

Donnovan Housen.
Accountant (PA).
+44 7956165339.

My neck hurts...

I blame Ross. Why you ask? Because my friend Maggie and I always blame Ross, period. It's just his fault.

"Real Simple" Whine

Recently I signed up to receive daily emails from Real Simple magazine. I figured that they would send me important tips that would simplify and enhance my life.

It started today. This is what I received:

Real Simple Daily Thought
Monday | March 16, 2009

Night the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive.

―Antoine de Saint-Exupery

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? This doesn't make my life simpler. It makes me develop a borderline personality. Is Elie Weisel writing for them now or something? What does this mean?


It's seriously disgusting to talk on the phone while you're in the bathroom.  Stop.  Is it honestly that f*ng important?
I've been dieting for almost 18 hours and I haven't lost a single pound.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Of course you're "trying" to find a job!

When I bought the newspaper and went through it with a highlighter pen, marking all the jobs that I thought were suitable for you, I kinda expected that you would actually go through the application process before the deadlines arrived.
Yes, I know you took 3 days to call for one of the jobs, even though you could have called 1st thing the next day, and that they gave you the details for how to apply, but unless you actually complete the online application form you won't get the job, so it doesn't really count as "I'm trying to get a job"
And I know that you went to the web page for another of the jobs, and downloaded and printed out the application. But again, unless you actually fill it in online and hit SEND you won't get the job.
And, its a year since I paid over a week's wages for a suit for you to wear at interviews, and you've worn it once, for a recruitment day. (Unsuccessfully)
And yes, I do know that the deadline for the better of all the jobs that I've shown you is tomorrow (Monday) and yes, I know you didn't fill the form in, and yes, I want to kick your ass for it. That would have been a doddle of a job, and you could have walked in to it, and your travel to work costs would have been practically zero.
But don't worry about that deadline! Spend the day playing out on your motorbike and watching TV.
And people wonder why I hate you!

Nobody ever accused me of being timely

Nobody ever lists me in their #followfriday list on twitter.

my whine

I know that, the majority of the time, you're the kind of husband that any woman would want. You're great with the kids. I haven't had to do a dish in I can't even remember how long. You took me to see Watchmen on opening night, and you make me coffee on the weekends. You're allowed to screw up sometimes. But can you please manage to make your screw-ups NOT involve the bank account? How do you "forget" to cancel a one year subscription to a game that you haven't played in months? I love you, but the very fact that we're now overdrawn (for the very first time in my entire life) because of a ridiculous online game, and somehow now we're going to have to figure out how the hell to pay off the overdraft and bank fees, not to mention come up with the car insurance money that was, I thought, safely sitting in the bank account, makes me want to hit you upside your lovable but forgetful head. You think you'll be able to call Monday morning and fix it. I think you'll call Monday morning and get told sorry, not our problem. I really hope it goes your way, because if it goes mine, you're going to have a lot more to worry about than a wife giving you the silent treatment all weekend. A lot.