<knock knock knock>
Me: <mumbling> Who the fuck is knocking on my door? Fuck it. I am not expecting anyone. Maybe they will leave.
<knockknockknock>
Me: <whispering> justleavejustleavejustleave
<KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK>
Me: <hissing> what the fuck? <sliding across floor, peeking through blinds> FOR FUCK'S SAKE!
Sadness: YOOHOO!!! <knockityknockknock> Hellllooooooo!! Darling Dear?
Me: Shitshitshitshit <opening door>
Sadness: OH!! Here you are!! Look at you, my little pigeon! It has been too long!!
Me: Really? It feels like you were just here yesterday.
Sadness: Well, no dear. It has been a whole 6 months!! That seems like forever and a day! What are you doing with yourself? <barges in, nearly knocking my eye out with her garment bag>
Me: Um, let's see...I guess the usual. Moving things around making it seem like I am cleaning, taking a shower only when I start to offend myself, thinking of taking up a meth habit. You?
Sadness: Thinking about you, of course!! I just felt this force calling me here. You need me!!
Me: No, really I don't. I am fine on my own. Do you think we could do this some other time?
Sadness: Silly girl! There is no time like the present!! Let's get to it.
Me: No, really. I don't want to get to anything except maybe living a little. I really, REALLY can't do this now. Now about that meth habit...I need to do some research on the internetz.
Sadness: You don't want me here? But we have always had lovely visits! Remember last time? We did everything together!!
Me: Yeah, um, well...that's kinda the problem. See, you bring me the fuck down. I don't really like you. You never let me get anything done and you are such a fucking narcissist. I can't stand it. The worst thing is, you embarrass me in public and I don't want to be seen with you. How can I make you go away?
Sadness: Bwahahahahahaha!!! Make me go away? You really are so cute!! You can't MAKE me go away!! I come and go as I please! Showing up unannounced is part of the fun and adds an element of surprise! Aren't you surprised?? Alarmed even? See how FUN that is?
Me: Only if FUN is an acronym for Fucking Unbelievably Narcissistic.
Sadness: Hahahaha!! I love you! You make me laugh!
Me: ...
Me: Look, I hate you. How much more clear can I be? I.HATE.YOU. So, stay if you like, but I am going to pretend like you are not here. I will ignore you. I will block you out. I have a force field around me, protecting me from you. And don't even think about asking me to go running or to join me in any other activity I enjoy. No you may not. Are we clear??
Sadness: This sounds pretty important to you. But I can't leave. I have nowhere else to be at the present, so I can't leave until my time is up. I promise, you won't even know I am here. I will just sit in this corner here. See?
Me: You need to shut the fuck up, too. No talking. At all.
Sadness: <makes a zipping lip motion>
Me: Uh huh. Okay, I am going to clean up toys. <sideways glance> Leave me alone.
Sadness: <nodding> Mmhmm. Mkay.
Me: <pointing> I got both eyes on you, fucker. One false move...and I will cut your ass.
Sadness: <blank stare>
Me: Okay, sit there. I'll be back...
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Thanks For Your Help, Douchebag
I am making some new rules for people to live by. Why? Because I think that there are some things people do that they shouldn't. These are things that anyone with common sense would automatically NOT do, but apparently, some people need a rule. And because they bother me. And I count more than anyone in the world because I am the most important.
1. If you have a hairy back and you feel that it is necessary to wear a tank top, for whatever reason, please, I beg of you, shave or wax your back. Just do it. Seriously. Also, think about doing the legs too if you are wearing running shorts that show most of your ass. Thank you, and America thanks you.
2. When you are shopping for cologne or perfume, make sure that the scent you pick out can not in any way, shape or form be mistaken for the scent that is used in a Porta Potty to mask the smell of piss and shit. If you think that there is even a tiny possibility that it could, walk on by. There are plenty of other colognes out there that do not.
3. If someone asks you a question, like let's say, "Is that coffee place open across the street?", and you think their question is stupid because it is 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday, keep it to your fucking self. Maybe they live in the country where everything opens at 2 on Sundays and they aren't used to the fancy, big city. Also, maybe they are not used to getting up at 4:30 in the morning and didn't think about the fact that it was Sunday or so early. And hey, if you are going to make fun of their idiocy, could you at least have the decency to tell them what IS open, because there were plenty of other places that were, you fucking DOUCHE. But thank you to the nice lady who DID offer me some information. I wouldn't want to seem ungrateful.
Anyway...moving on.
4. If you do work in said coffee shop and have to be there on a Sunday at some redonkulous time, try to have a smile on your face. Try to be helpful. And seriously? Move the fuck out of the way so the customers can see what kind of bagels you are offering. "What kind of bagel do you want? Oh, I am not going to move. I am just going to STAND HERE IN YOUR WAY." Look, no one wants to be up at that hour. Even me, and I was doing something fun!! So just...yeah. Get it together and be happy to have a job. Many people do not.
So, that's all I got right now, but I am sure I will be adding to my list. It's not hard to find new rules when you are so easily irritated by people. And by people, I mean others. To be continued...
1. If you have a hairy back and you feel that it is necessary to wear a tank top, for whatever reason, please, I beg of you, shave or wax your back. Just do it. Seriously. Also, think about doing the legs too if you are wearing running shorts that show most of your ass. Thank you, and America thanks you.
2. When you are shopping for cologne or perfume, make sure that the scent you pick out can not in any way, shape or form be mistaken for the scent that is used in a Porta Potty to mask the smell of piss and shit. If you think that there is even a tiny possibility that it could, walk on by. There are plenty of other colognes out there that do not.
3. If someone asks you a question, like let's say, "Is that coffee place open across the street?", and you think their question is stupid because it is 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday, keep it to your fucking self. Maybe they live in the country where everything opens at 2 on Sundays and they aren't used to the fancy, big city. Also, maybe they are not used to getting up at 4:30 in the morning and didn't think about the fact that it was Sunday or so early. And hey, if you are going to make fun of their idiocy, could you at least have the decency to tell them what IS open, because there were plenty of other places that were, you fucking DOUCHE. But thank you to the nice lady who DID offer me some information. I wouldn't want to seem ungrateful.
Anyway...moving on.
4. If you do work in said coffee shop and have to be there on a Sunday at some redonkulous time, try to have a smile on your face. Try to be helpful. And seriously? Move the fuck out of the way so the customers can see what kind of bagels you are offering. "What kind of bagel do you want? Oh, I am not going to move. I am just going to STAND HERE IN YOUR WAY." Look, no one wants to be up at that hour. Even me, and I was doing something fun!! So just...yeah. Get it together and be happy to have a job. Many people do not.
So, that's all I got right now, but I am sure I will be adding to my list. It's not hard to find new rules when you are so easily irritated by people. And by people, I mean others. To be continued...
Friday, May 13, 2011
5 Things I Hate More Than Pinkeye
I hate pinkeye. It is seriously so disgusting and whenever my kids get it, I want to run away. So, when my son's eyes swelled from his allergies, I immediately rushed him to Urgent Care to get him some drops. Not dealing with the doo doo eye.
On my way, I was trying to decide what could possibly be worse than Poopy Eye. Not much, but I came up with a list of five.
5. Christine McVie. That bitch is annoying. Her voice makes me want to stick broken glass in my eye just to hear myself scream. However, "Songbird" is an exception to the rule, but not a big enough one to make her better than Shitty Eye.
4. Stepping on a thumbtack. I struggled with this one because pinkeye lasts longer than the stick of a tack. But, feeling the metal of a thumbtack enter your foot and then having to pull it out again, only to feel that metal hit the same spots, really smarts and leaves a forever memory. Especially if it has happened more than once.
3. Being in a full body cast. This has never happened to me, but I would definitely rather have pinkeye than have to endure one day in a full body cast. Pretty self explanatory.
2. All of The Supremes, but mostly Diana Ross. I don't need to elaborate. I just hate them. Sue me, fuckers.
And finally...
1. Strep. I wish we had Pinkeye.
On my way, I was trying to decide what could possibly be worse than Poopy Eye. Not much, but I came up with a list of five.
5. Christine McVie. That bitch is annoying. Her voice makes me want to stick broken glass in my eye just to hear myself scream. However, "Songbird" is an exception to the rule, but not a big enough one to make her better than Shitty Eye.
4. Stepping on a thumbtack. I struggled with this one because pinkeye lasts longer than the stick of a tack. But, feeling the metal of a thumbtack enter your foot and then having to pull it out again, only to feel that metal hit the same spots, really smarts and leaves a forever memory. Especially if it has happened more than once.
3. Being in a full body cast. This has never happened to me, but I would definitely rather have pinkeye than have to endure one day in a full body cast. Pretty self explanatory.
2. All of The Supremes, but mostly Diana Ross. I don't need to elaborate. I just hate them. Sue me, fuckers.
And finally...
1. Strep. I wish we had Pinkeye.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
You Scared The CRAP Outta Me!!
Dear Retail Therapy,
Today I went on a journey. A journey to find that thing that I saw at the mall two weeks ago. You know, that perfect thing to make me feel better about myself and lift me up. A little boost. A nice fuzzy blanket to keep me warm and cozy. A fluffy cloud to lay on. Yep, that thing.
Unfortunately, when I found that thing and tried it on, it did not make me feel better. It was ill fitting and did not flatter my body in the least. No matter. I knew you wouldn't let me down, seeing what a faithful friend you have been all these years. You would never let me down. Right?
Well, you almost did. You allowed me to wander aimlessly around the mall, searching for that perfect little something, didn't you? You let me think that I would never find something, anything, to give me a little pep in my step. You laughed as I was near tears, rifling through the racks, trying to locate a token of your appreciation for me. And then, while I was down, you kicked me a couple of times.
But, miraculously, you pulled it together and came through. There on that last rack, right next to the exit, I found it. A sale item that was pretty enough to pull me out of my shit. It was flattering, feminine and only $13.00. It was proof that you hadn't lost your touch.
However, if you ever do that to me again, I will FUCK YOU UP! No, bitch. I don't want to hear your excuses. You acted like a cunt and I swear to HOLY CHRIST, if you ever, EVER treat me that way again, I will cut your ass!! I will pull your Goddamn hair out strand by strand. Then I will make you eat that shit after I have pummeled your smug, little, pig face. Ever seen Fight Club? Yeah, bitch, that'll be you.
In closing, I would like you to know that I still love you. I kinda want to beat your ass a little still, but I do love you. You have pulled me out of some rough spots and I will never forget that. I hope that we will always be the best of friends.
Your Forever Lover,
ApparentlyATotalB
Today I went on a journey. A journey to find that thing that I saw at the mall two weeks ago. You know, that perfect thing to make me feel better about myself and lift me up. A little boost. A nice fuzzy blanket to keep me warm and cozy. A fluffy cloud to lay on. Yep, that thing.
Unfortunately, when I found that thing and tried it on, it did not make me feel better. It was ill fitting and did not flatter my body in the least. No matter. I knew you wouldn't let me down, seeing what a faithful friend you have been all these years. You would never let me down. Right?
Well, you almost did. You allowed me to wander aimlessly around the mall, searching for that perfect little something, didn't you? You let me think that I would never find something, anything, to give me a little pep in my step. You laughed as I was near tears, rifling through the racks, trying to locate a token of your appreciation for me. And then, while I was down, you kicked me a couple of times.
But, miraculously, you pulled it together and came through. There on that last rack, right next to the exit, I found it. A sale item that was pretty enough to pull me out of my shit. It was flattering, feminine and only $13.00. It was proof that you hadn't lost your touch.
However, if you ever do that to me again, I will FUCK YOU UP! No, bitch. I don't want to hear your excuses. You acted like a cunt and I swear to HOLY CHRIST, if you ever, EVER treat me that way again, I will cut your ass!! I will pull your Goddamn hair out strand by strand. Then I will make you eat that shit after I have pummeled your smug, little, pig face. Ever seen Fight Club? Yeah, bitch, that'll be you.
In closing, I would like you to know that I still love you. I kinda want to beat your ass a little still, but I do love you. You have pulled me out of some rough spots and I will never forget that. I hope that we will always be the best of friends.
Your Forever Lover,
ApparentlyATotalB
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Attention Shoppers
My birthday was a couple of weeks ago and instead of having my husband try to figure out what I want, I just ask for money. At first I thought I would buy some new running clothes, but soon realized that I had already combed through the Outlet center and bought everything that I had wanted. Then I thought I would use the money to buy a cool running jacket from a race I will be doing in a couple of weeks, only to find that the shirt they are giving to the entrants is a half-zip pullover with the race emblem on the front. Yeah, I don't really need to waste anymore money on a running jacket if I am already getting one.
So, yesterday I decided to order a new purse. Not that I actually need one, I have plenty, but this one is so fucking COOL! It is made from recycled rubber tires and it is just the right size for a few essentials. It is a little clutch with a wrist strap and the prettiest, blue lining. I am so excited to get it this week, I can hardly stand it.
Now, the burning question that is on everyone's mind (or not) is, did this purchase satisfy me? HELLZ NO!! I mean, I am happy with my purchase and grateful that I am able to spend money on necessities AND splurge a little. I know I will get much use out of this little clutch and not everyone will have the same purse. However, after I entered my credit card info. and received my confirmation, I found myself searching through the website, drooling over the next items I will buy. Please see below for the Top 10 ways to know if you are addicted to shopping.
10. After you make a purchase, you feel the need for a cigarette and a snuggle.
9. The smell of floor wax causes a desire to run to the nearest department store.
8. No matter how many of an item you own, it is never enough. You always need "just one more".
7. You know your credit card number and CVV2 code by heart.
6. The sales associates at Calvin Klein carry pictures of your kids in their wallets.
5. You have gone without eating to save money for a much needed purchase. You can always eat later.
4. You will buy anything. Even from the Dollar Store.
3. Food does not count as a purchase, even when it is from a fancy restaurant.
2. You are upset by child labor laws. Your children could be contributing to your shopping fund.
1. You have seriously considered stripping, hooking or pimping to support your habit. Or, you have already done one or more of these things.
There you have it. Addicted.
So, yesterday I decided to order a new purse. Not that I actually need one, I have plenty, but this one is so fucking COOL! It is made from recycled rubber tires and it is just the right size for a few essentials. It is a little clutch with a wrist strap and the prettiest, blue lining. I am so excited to get it this week, I can hardly stand it.
Now, the burning question that is on everyone's mind (or not) is, did this purchase satisfy me? HELLZ NO!! I mean, I am happy with my purchase and grateful that I am able to spend money on necessities AND splurge a little. I know I will get much use out of this little clutch and not everyone will have the same purse. However, after I entered my credit card info. and received my confirmation, I found myself searching through the website, drooling over the next items I will buy. Please see below for the Top 10 ways to know if you are addicted to shopping.
10. After you make a purchase, you feel the need for a cigarette and a snuggle.
9. The smell of floor wax causes a desire to run to the nearest department store.
8. No matter how many of an item you own, it is never enough. You always need "just one more".
7. You know your credit card number and CVV2 code by heart.
6. The sales associates at Calvin Klein carry pictures of your kids in their wallets.
5. You have gone without eating to save money for a much needed purchase. You can always eat later.
4. You will buy anything. Even from the Dollar Store.
3. Food does not count as a purchase, even when it is from a fancy restaurant.
2. You are upset by child labor laws. Your children could be contributing to your shopping fund.
1. You have seriously considered stripping, hooking or pimping to support your habit. Or, you have already done one or more of these things.
There you have it. Addicted.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
I Am NOT A Pack Rat!! Okay, Maybe I Am, But I Am A Fancy Pack Rat.
I just realized something today. I have a really bad habit of saving things that are not worth saving. Well, okay, I didn't just realize it today. I have always known that I had a little problem throwing shit away. It used to be stuff like papers. Just weird, random pieces of paper with numbers written on them, or old bills, envelopes, Christmas cards. You name it. If it once came from a tree, I kept it.
I also kept a bunch of old crap from high school in a box. Pictures, my tassel from graduation, my letter, some pins. I used to have a fanny pack (yes, I said fanny pack) stuffed with old notes I had received from friends during school. I know there were at least 50 notes in that thing, all folded into some fucked up geometric shape. I finally got rid of them all, only to regret it and wish I still had them to reread and laugh at how dumb I was. Hopefully I got rid of the fanny pack, though. Not only because fanny packs are the biggest fashion crime ever, but also because it was red with fake, suede tassels on it. I think I still have the box somewhere under my stairs with the intention of revisiting my childhood.
As an adult, the main thing I have a problem with is reading and deleting e-mails. If I see an e-mail that I don't need, instead of just throwing it away, I leave it right there in the inbox. I pretend like I don't know why I do this, but that is a lie. Somehow, I think I may need it. Like it just might have something I will need to reference down the road or something. I am afraid to get rid of it because my life may just depend on that obscure e-mail that I don't even really need to open. The saddest thing is, I have a tendency to delete e-mails that I really should save. It is totally fucked up, but whatever. I eventually go through and clean up to start over with a blank slate.
Anyway, back to today's realization. I was putting clothes away, thinking how badly I needed to purge some of my kids' clothes, when I came upon a pair of my pajama pants. No big deal, right? Well, my husband bought me the pajamas 5 years ago for Christmas. They were somewhere around 50 bucks, which I find ridiculous for a pair of PJs, but they were a gift. Not long after I was given these pajamas, they ripped a little on the seam in the ass. I was not bothered by this and continued to wear them. Over time, the tear became bigger and bigger, eventually becoming a gaping hole, exposing most of my ass and a good part of my leg. How do I know this? Because I continued to wear them. I continued to wear a piece of raggedy, trashy piece of cloth that completely showed my whole ass. Who the fuck does that?? Apparently, I do.
So, what did I do when I found these horribly shredded pajamas today? Did I throw them out? Did I cut them up to use as dusting cloths? Did I place them in my craft box to use for something? NO!! I neatly folded them up and put them in my closet to be worn later. That makes me a sick bitch.
I also kept a bunch of old crap from high school in a box. Pictures, my tassel from graduation, my letter, some pins. I used to have a fanny pack (yes, I said fanny pack) stuffed with old notes I had received from friends during school. I know there were at least 50 notes in that thing, all folded into some fucked up geometric shape. I finally got rid of them all, only to regret it and wish I still had them to reread and laugh at how dumb I was. Hopefully I got rid of the fanny pack, though. Not only because fanny packs are the biggest fashion crime ever, but also because it was red with fake, suede tassels on it. I think I still have the box somewhere under my stairs with the intention of revisiting my childhood.
As an adult, the main thing I have a problem with is reading and deleting e-mails. If I see an e-mail that I don't need, instead of just throwing it away, I leave it right there in the inbox. I pretend like I don't know why I do this, but that is a lie. Somehow, I think I may need it. Like it just might have something I will need to reference down the road or something. I am afraid to get rid of it because my life may just depend on that obscure e-mail that I don't even really need to open. The saddest thing is, I have a tendency to delete e-mails that I really should save. It is totally fucked up, but whatever. I eventually go through and clean up to start over with a blank slate.
Anyway, back to today's realization. I was putting clothes away, thinking how badly I needed to purge some of my kids' clothes, when I came upon a pair of my pajama pants. No big deal, right? Well, my husband bought me the pajamas 5 years ago for Christmas. They were somewhere around 50 bucks, which I find ridiculous for a pair of PJs, but they were a gift. Not long after I was given these pajamas, they ripped a little on the seam in the ass. I was not bothered by this and continued to wear them. Over time, the tear became bigger and bigger, eventually becoming a gaping hole, exposing most of my ass and a good part of my leg. How do I know this? Because I continued to wear them. I continued to wear a piece of raggedy, trashy piece of cloth that completely showed my whole ass. Who the fuck does that?? Apparently, I do.
So, what did I do when I found these horribly shredded pajamas today? Did I throw them out? Did I cut them up to use as dusting cloths? Did I place them in my craft box to use for something? NO!! I neatly folded them up and put them in my closet to be worn later. That makes me a sick bitch.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Mindless And Incessant Rambling With A Touch Of Gushing
Okay, so, wow. Really embarrassing. I am totally addicted to a show. And not just any show. Probably a show that has the worst premise EVAH!! Maybe you have heard of it. It's called 21 Jump Street.
If you haven't heard of this show (which would mean you have been living under some large object your entire life, or you're old, or you're really young, in which case, you should probably not be reading my blog), it is about a group of cops who go into high schools, undercover, to bust teenage criminals. And it is progressive. The first couple of seasons were really shitty. Acting kinda shitty, script REALLY shitty, plot lines EXTRA ULTRA shitty. But it gets better. I said better, it's not Shakespeare.
Yes, it is pretty silly for a 36 year old woman to be addicted to 21 Jump Street when it has now been off the air for, what is it, going on twenty years? But I can't help myself. I watched it when I was a kid and I guess I needed a little mindless release while I have a little adventure with the 15 year old girl I used to be.
I didn't start with the first season. I watched that a few years back after I had my 2nd baby. I felt this need to see Johnny Depp in his younger years and try to remind myself of what all the fuss is about. You know how when you are little and you are in love with some actor on TV and then you get old and they aren't nearly as cute as you thought they would be? You know, like Ponch from Chips? Yeah, no. Johnny Depp is nothing like that. That dude was (and still is) H.O.T. Ponch, not so much. Okay, maybe a little, as Ponch. Not Eric Estrada himself. But nobody, and I mean NOBODY is as white hot as J.D.
I remember waiting for the show to come on, hoping to see Officer Tom Hanson (Johnny Depp) kiss some girl or just look at someone with a longing expression or just go tell a deep story that showed a glimpse of who his character was. I truly believed that I could see into that guy's soul. And when he would cuss, or chew gum and talk, or smile and show his ridiculously perfect teeth. OMG, my world was complete.
But now, now as I am in the middle of the third season of this preposterous show, now as I waste my life experiencing this show as an adult, I realize. I realize that he is still hot. Still sexy. And not aging because he really doesn't look much different. I am starting to believe that he has a portrait hidden somewhere in his house in Paris. A picture of him, but haggard and old, showing all the damage he has done to his body and mind. The warped, twisted version of himself that displays his sins and wrongdoings. A picture so frightening and gut wrenching that you would have to burn your eyes out for fear that you might catch a glimpse of it again. There has to be because nobody looks that fucking good. Nobody. Especially when they drink and smoke and are going on 50. 50. That guy is gonna be 50 soon and his real name is Dorian Gray. Yeah. I don't really know where I was going with this but, that is all.
If you haven't heard of this show (which would mean you have been living under some large object your entire life, or you're old, or you're really young, in which case, you should probably not be reading my blog), it is about a group of cops who go into high schools, undercover, to bust teenage criminals. And it is progressive. The first couple of seasons were really shitty. Acting kinda shitty, script REALLY shitty, plot lines EXTRA ULTRA shitty. But it gets better. I said better, it's not Shakespeare.
Yes, it is pretty silly for a 36 year old woman to be addicted to 21 Jump Street when it has now been off the air for, what is it, going on twenty years? But I can't help myself. I watched it when I was a kid and I guess I needed a little mindless release while I have a little adventure with the 15 year old girl I used to be.
I didn't start with the first season. I watched that a few years back after I had my 2nd baby. I felt this need to see Johnny Depp in his younger years and try to remind myself of what all the fuss is about. You know how when you are little and you are in love with some actor on TV and then you get old and they aren't nearly as cute as you thought they would be? You know, like Ponch from Chips? Yeah, no. Johnny Depp is nothing like that. That dude was (and still is) H.O.T. Ponch, not so much. Okay, maybe a little, as Ponch. Not Eric Estrada himself. But nobody, and I mean NOBODY is as white hot as J.D.
I remember waiting for the show to come on, hoping to see Officer Tom Hanson (Johnny Depp) kiss some girl or just look at someone with a longing expression or just go tell a deep story that showed a glimpse of who his character was. I truly believed that I could see into that guy's soul. And when he would cuss, or chew gum and talk, or smile and show his ridiculously perfect teeth. OMG, my world was complete.
But now, now as I am in the middle of the third season of this preposterous show, now as I waste my life experiencing this show as an adult, I realize. I realize that he is still hot. Still sexy. And not aging because he really doesn't look much different. I am starting to believe that he has a portrait hidden somewhere in his house in Paris. A picture of him, but haggard and old, showing all the damage he has done to his body and mind. The warped, twisted version of himself that displays his sins and wrongdoings. A picture so frightening and gut wrenching that you would have to burn your eyes out for fear that you might catch a glimpse of it again. There has to be because nobody looks that fucking good. Nobody. Especially when they drink and smoke and are going on 50. 50. That guy is gonna be 50 soon and his real name is Dorian Gray. Yeah. I don't really know where I was going with this but, that is all.
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