silly me

Silly me...I thought I could; hang with the Pea, go get coffee, hit the library, work on the computer, clean the house, and get showered and ready, ALL before Smash gets here...ha ha hahahahah ha ha ha ha....yeah, NO.

Looks like I will manage the first half of the list and instead arrive at the airport with jeans & a sweatshirt, unshowered, and then bring her back to a hilariously trashed house. I say hilarious because it is so ridiculous you can't help but laugh...if you didn't you would cry, or call some sort of government agency on me. On the bright side, I have had coffee and have new books to read...and of course I could get my ass up and clean now, but that would be a lot less fun, and then you, my lovely readers, would have nothing. I am also trying to frantically finish some picture books for the Pea.

I am gonna give a shoutout to Walgreens.com and their photo shop. I know a bunch of the other drugstores and probably Walmart have the same capabilities, but I have been using Walgreens since the Pea was born, and so have just stuck with it. They have these picture books you can make; hardbound, nice books, that to make you drag and drop pictures into and add text. They are great and fun and the Pea LOVES seeing "real" books about her. Well, I made one about her birth and another about her first year, and I have her second and third years almost ready to have printed, and I want to get them done today. They are on sale right now, buy one get one 50% off and at $20 a pop I figure I could save some serious cash if I just get my ass in gear. Each one, I buy two of...one to save for when she is older and one she can read and look at now, that I don't care if gets ripped or messed up. We read the one about her birth almost every night because she is fascinated with babies and the fact that she too was once one.

So, anyway, since that sale ends tonight and I don't anticipate working on the computer later, what with the Pedis and the martini lunch I have planned with my sistah...I will sign off of blogger and into Walgreens and start draggin' and droppin' like a maniac and HOPEFULLY have a couple books to show for it soon...I might actually find a picture or two to load onto here as well. Wish me luck!

tidbits

Don't really have the time or the brainpower for a story or well thought out post so just gonna spout off a few things and give a few updates...I have been getting lots of questions and comments both in person and via email - THANKS! I would love to get more comments on the blog underneath the posts themselves(remember you can do it anonymously), but some have said that it sometimes takes forever or doesn't work at all...sorry about that, as I am a tech tard, I don't know why that is or how to fix it, but please, keep tryin'.

Ok...so went out with all my boys last night and the overwhelming consensus regarding what to/not talk about (remember the post priceless) was; we really don't care what you talk about if we think there is a chance we get to see your boobies (or in my case boo boos)...so there ya go...and talking about boobies, all the better. They were all just a little bit drunk though, and our waitress happened to have nice ones, so they had boobies on the brain...we may revisit that topic in the future if I continue to have bad luck on the dating front.

No, I have not heard from B2, and that is OK with me, and no have not heard from B either...again, that is OK with me.

Oh...lots of questions about my crazy schedule and my job. I work Monday through Thursday...I work around airplanes, but at a desk...Monday and Wednesday mornings I drop off the Pea at 6:30 (cuz that is when the daycare opens) and work from 8:30 to 5, DH keeps the Pea those nights and I usually stay with Booya to avoid the 2 hour drive home...Tuesday and Thursday I work 7am to 3:30, pick up the Pea at 5:30...I try to get her in bed no later than 7:30. Most Fridays the Pea goes to school from 9:30 to 4 and that is my "me time." I run all my errands, straighten the house, and if I am lucky, have coffee or lunch with a friend.

Thought this was interesting...John DeVore's article on The Frisky yesterday was a criticism of women and the nicknames they give all the men in their lives to talk about them...especially distressing to him were the negative ones ("tiny penis man" "hairy back man" you get the idea)...well "hot writer man," I like giving all my men nicknames, and while some of them may not like it as much as others (sorry Stewie, but it IS funny, and if it makes you feel any better he IS a very smart baby...hee hee) most of the guys think it is no big deal, SO... I am going to continue to do it.

One last thing...Smash is coming tomorrow! It is a last minute, (almost) surprise visit, and I am VERY EXCITED!!!! We are going to have a fabulous "girl day" with lunch and pedis, and a laid back weekend hangin' with the Pea...and since we will be gabbing and hugging and talking about boys (yes, using nicknames) I may not be able to do much writing, I will be checkin' email and Facebook though so drop me a line, check in, and enjoy your weekend!

hot and not

Watched The Bachelor last night...for those of you not addicted to this ridiculous show like I am; this season, the fated dude is a single dad. He is reasonably attractive, appears to be successful in whatever he does and he is lookin' for a wife. Well everyone (except me apparently) thinks he is AWESOME, and this season is one of the highest rated...and the fact that he is a single daddy makes him even MORE attractive to the ladies. It shows how compassionate and loving and blah, blah, blah...whatever...I think he is kind of a goof and since he got rid of the coolest chick on the show, is clearly a dipshit...Jillian, you rock, you are better off without him.

Ok, so in addition to the watching of this show, I am addicted to the live blogging on The Frisky...it is actually MORE entertaining than the show itself. Well, along with the blogging by Amelia (my new girl crush) we all weigh in and make comments and last week the discussion turned to whether or not a single MOMMY bachelorette would be nearly as attractive or well received. I think NOT.

See, most women, upon meeting a potential suitor and finding out he has a kid (that he loves and cares for, we aren't talking deadbeat assholes here), will get all mushy with assumptions that he is not only capable of being loving and responsible (and therefore a CATCH), but will start to look for ways to show their own caring, responsible side to prove to him she is worthy of step-mommyhood. Guys, upon meeting a woman and finding out she has a kid, will panic and start looking for the door.

I met a guy out on Saturday night, and while not a totally random meeting...Gigi orchestrated us being in the same place at the same time...the instant I mentioned the Pea, SWEAR TO GOD, he started sweating and looking for exits. Now granted, there wasn't a whole lot of chemistry, and we were doing our best to be polite to each other, but prior to him asking me what I did in my spare time ("well I have a daughter, she keeps me busy" had to work it in there, I am not of the school of thought that one should keep these things secret until he is smitten and then "oh yeah, BTW...") he seemed somewhat interested...After, well let me put it this way; it got really quiet, I said "I need another drink" he said "yeah, me too" we sat and drank, without conversation, until he yawned and said "Well, I had a long day today and am really tired, I think I'm gonna go" and he did, I think it was 9pm.

Would the evening have been different if I never mentioned the Pea, would he have stuck around? Who knows, who cares, but I think it proves my point (at least somewhat) single daddies are hot, single mommies are not. Maybe next time instead of mentioning the Pea I will just talk football...oh wait, that might offend...shit...

Hair flip! I will stick with the hair flip...I will sip my martini, flip my hair, and keep my mouth shut.

more cookies

Some of you may remember this post:

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

cookies for sex
So the other day I'm standing in my pantry cramming Oreos in my face as fast as I can...well actually they are Newman-O's...they're organic, and therefore NOT bad for you, the fact that they have exactly the same number of calories per cookie should be ignored...and I have the door closed because if the Pea sees me she will want some and I don't want to share - I MEAN, I don't want her to eat sugar - yeah that's it...and suddenly I remember that episode of 'Sex and the City' where Miranda calls Carrie in a panic because she has just eaten chocolate cake out of the garbage. She has been substituting chocolate for sex and after making a whole cake and nearly eating it all she throws it away to prevent herself from eating more and then next thing ya know, bam...she's on the phone with Carrie.

WELLLLL...seems I've been substituting Oreos...no wonder I can't fit into my pants. All that pent up frustration, taken out on a tiny cookie(cookies)...damnit, I guess I have to make a change huh?So, I joined a gym...yup, aerobics and free weights will now take the place of those lovely little Newman-O's...I am going to get my ass back in my pants...well maybe. I sit here at my computer after having a lovely pasta with vodka sauce (2 of my favorite things all on the same plate - whoo hoo!) and an ENTIRE bottle of wine, thinking, "hmmmm wonder if I should have gone to the gym tonight?" Nah, there's always tomorrow...oooh and I think I still have some cookies in the pantry.

I just ate an ENTIRE BOX of Thin Mints...after going to the gym...

Damn those girl scouts and their evil little cookies.

priceless

New, very cute, very short, black sequined mini-skirt to go with my black boots and turtleneck: $19.00 (clearance!)

Bottle of Chardonnay, and very cool silk scarf to wrap around the bottle, for the birthday girl: $42.00

Two Grey Goose martinis, straight up, very dirty (and no bartender, you aren't funny or original, I have heard that stupid joke before, I know your last girlfriend was dirty, shut up and make my drink): $24.00

Hearing from a well intentioned guy that part of the reason I can't find a guy of my own is because I intimidate and offend them: priceless.

Ok, so I am having a conversation with Gigi's DH, and he is (I think) trying to be helpful and nice, but in doing so completely blows my mind. He tells me that he wouldn't introduce me to any of his friends, and if he did it wouldn't be without first letting them know that I am a sports nut, I can play golf, and have a crazy busy life. He felt like if I were to go out with someone, and they didn't know these things first, they would, upon finding out, run screaming from me (ok, he didn't say that, that was just the picture I got in my head). What he did say though, was that a lot of guys would try to impress me with their own knowledge of sports, or some other thing, and if I were to call them on it (No jackass, the Steelers WERE, in fact, better than the Raiders this year, but go on...) they would get all embarrassed, and never want to see me again. Well duh, but I am only that mean to my guy buds, I don't think I have ever called out a dude on a date...oh wait, I have only had one date, scratch that, maybe he is right.

Well we all laughed about it, and I gave him a hard time about calling me "offensive" but afterwards I got to thinking about it...are all the things that make me cool to my guy buds, and "one of the guys" the same things that make me NOT cool to guys who might want to date me. Do I really scare or intimidate? It's not like I'm an expert, I don't watch SportsCenter EVERY night, I don't like ALL sports, and like I said in a previous post, I no longer jump in and try to "impress" with my vast (lol) knowledge. I thought it was a good thing to like sports and be athletic...I thought it was ok to be smart and independent, I thought being passionate and fun would make me MORE desirable, NOT less...wow.

Something to ponder I guess...guys? wanna weigh in, gimme the skinny...Booya, Mclovin, Dude, JD...anybody?

3rd saturday

Well it's the third Saturday of the month, which means the Pea is with her daddy...I both hate and look forward to these weekends every month. As DH backed out of the driveway this morning, I stood and watched from the window, fighting back the tears. It has been 7 months now, and I still am not "used to" it. I selfishly want her all to myself, and yet I know her time with him is necessary for us both. I need to have some time to myself, to spend with friends, to do the things I can't when I have her, and to rest...she needs to be with her dad...and despite always making sure my weekend is jammed full of fun activities, I hate it, I hate every minute of it.

I haven't stopped since she left this morning...I was able to run the vacuum (which I can't do when she is home: "mommy too LOUD!"), go out for coffee, have friends over and take them to the beach (JD...I like Elliot, I like her a lot - good job man!), help get the club ready for Lady's party, and now I am writing. Despite it all being lovely, there has been an underlying melancholy, I miss my baby girl.

I will be going out tonight, out to a great party, and then a party after the party...I will be all dressed up and (hopefully) lookin' cute. I should be excited about this, I should be thrilled that I will be out, with adults, meeting new people, having fun, drinking martinis...hell the martinis alone should have me doing flips, why aren't I more excited? ...hmmm, maybe I need coffee. A good shot of caffeine will get me going. I'm gonna sign off, go brew some coffee and take a long hot shower. I vow to let myself have fun tonight, without any mommy guilt, and tomorrow I will have a fun post, funny story, or well, quite possibly, a hangover which will prevent me from writing anything at all...

divine

Just found another great website and wanted to share:

http://www.divinecaroline.com

lots of great stuff for the gals!

whew

Well I have had a busy morning, but I can now sit down, take a breath and write, so I'm gonna. So, remember my accident? And how it was my fault (I rear-ended someone), well today was my court date, and I was really dreading it. Dreading it so much, because the ONLY time I have ever been in a courtroom was for my first divorce and it was AWFUL, I tried to get out of it yesterday by just pleading guilty and paying the ticket. Well, lucky for me, a very nice clerk talked some sense into me when I tried. She told me to get a letter from my insurance company and get my butt down to court in the morning and they would dismiss it, and I wouldn't have to pay the fine...well I got all upset and told her I was just was too nervous to have to go through all that, and she gave me a good verbal slap and told me to do it anyway. She was right...it wasn't bad, AT ALL, the DA man was very nice (and kinda cute), and they did, in fact, dismiss the charge...no points, no fine...whew! And THANK YOU Gigi...I don't have a printer and the insurance man e-mailed the letter, so she printed it off and had it ready for me this morning at 7am...I owe ya lady!

Ok, so now that all that is behind me, and the Pea is at school, I have the rest of the day to enjoy myself...I am gonna go to the gym (with make-up, without Juicy pants), hit the mall, cuz not having to pay that fine gives me a teeny tiny bit of spending money and I need to buy a birthday present for Lady...she is turning...(oh lets just say 39) and having a party to celebrate, and then maybe, just maybe I will get to those dishes in the sink and those clothes in the dryer.

plastic ponies

The book I am reading now; I Was Told There'd Be Cake, by Sloane Crosley, is a group of essays. I was given the book by my sister because of the first essay, titled; The Pony Problem. The first sentence of the first page is:

As most New Yorkers have done, I have given serious and generous thought to the state of my apartment should I get killed during the day.

Smash said she picked up the book, flipped open to this first page, started reading and then laughed out loud and thought, "I HAVE to get this book for my sister!" She didn't tell me that until AFTER I started reading and called to tell her I loved it, and loved the writing, and totally LOVED the first essay.

I too have given ample thought to the state of my house if I should die during the day, and not just thought, I have actually expressed these thoughts to my sister. I have called her in a near panic to tell her about my house, and how disgusting it is, and how if I do, in fact, die, she HAS to be the first one to go in, not just to clean but to get rid of stuff. You may think this sounds silly and rather paranoid, but I have always been like this...before EVERY trip out of town, or out of the country I would assess how bad it would be for those left behind if I should not return, and now that I hurl myself over 250 miles of interstate at 80 miles an hour almost every day it is not completely out of the realm of possibility...those 4 hours in the car every day also give me ample time to think.

Now that I have a kid it is even worse...the house is messier and so is my mind. In the essay, Sloane's main concern is her pony collection, and no that is not code for Bob collection, they are actual plastic toy ponies, and she is mortified and yet unable to get rid of them. My concern; my journal. You think I am crazy in this blog? You should read my journal...no don't. You see, my journal, the paper one, is where all my; fears, loathings, paranoid stupid frantic thoughts, hopes, dreams, aspirations, failings, heartbreaks, and the real hard (no one wants to admit they have) feelings, go...and like the dozens that have come before it; it will be shredded, either by me upon running out of pages or my sister upon my demise.

So anyway, after reading and thinking about this preoccupation, I thought I would just put it all out there for everyone so there are no surprises...with Smash living a thousand miles away there is a very good chance any one of you lucky readers could get the job of going through my stuff should I; get run over by a forklift, walk into an airplane prop, run off the road because an Usher song comes on the radio (don't ask), or choke on a doughnut.

There are dirty dishes in the sink, with the dishwasher broken I have to wash them all by hand and I should have washed them Monday, but I didn't...again on Tuesday, again I didn't...I wasn't home last night so I have an excuse, regardless, they are still there. There are clean clothes in the dryer, they will remain there until newly washed wet clothes have to go in instead, or, you fold them for me. The trash can in the bathroom is full, and that pile of clothes on the bathroom floor, they are all dirty. Don't go into the Pea's room...you will break your leg. I don't think there is a square inch of floor space NOT littered with toys, books or clothes. Bob is on the top of my shoe shelf in the closet, help yourself.

I don't have any plastic ponies.

favorites

It has been one of those very long, very tedious days...I have a nasty headache and don't much feel like writing, but I got a message on my facebook page from my very cool cousin and wanted to share. Seems she knew the song I was referring to in the post "your what on fire" and Smash almost got it right.

saw the post about "snatch on fire" (LMAO), and i'm pretty sure i know the song being referred to..."Sex on Fire" by the Kings of Leon! http://www.lyricsmania.com/lyrics/kings_of_leon_lyrics_1498/only_by_the_night_lyrics_85912/sex_on_fire_lyrics_844854.html

So there ya go...and thanks!

Uhm, lets see...since I'm sharing, and I don't have the brain power for a story, I will just share a few of my new favorite things:

Website: http://www.thefrisky.com/ it is a fun place with lots of great writers who comment and share experiences on dating, relationships, sex, style, & entertainment...my guilty pleasure is The Bachelor live blogging, and I LOVE Amelia and John DeVore...in order to leave comments you have to become a member, which I did in order to compliment a particular article, and since then I have become an addict...silly really, but what the hell else am I gonna do after the Pea goes to bed.

CDs: In my car right now are T.I., Sugarland, Adele, and the soundtrack to Garden State...and I love them all...random selection I know, but when I had to switch cars all those times, those are the only ones that made the final switch...all my others are in my garage.

Book: Oh, the Places You'll Go! by Dr. Seuss...I know it's a kids book, but it is awesome, and the Pea happens to love it too, so when I am down I read it to her to pick myself up.

Haven't seen any movies lately...

Ok, well... sorry I don't have more for ya, but I'm runnin' out of steam...g'nite.

dead presidents

Happy...what holiday is it? Why am I at home getting paid? Who the hell cares, I'm at home and getting paid! Ok, so it's President's day, a day to celebrate the births of a couple of the founding fathers of this great country we live in...yay. Whatever...I know that sounds terrible, especially coming from someone who spent four years in college studying, of all things, History, and who is a card carrying member of the DAR (did I just admit that? OMG) but I really couldn't care less. When I was younger I would devour reference books, encyclopedias, historical novels...I prided myself on my vast knowledge of all things historical, political, and economic. I would jump into any discussion, no matter how heated, just to impart my wisdom. Now, of course, I realize; I have no real wisdom, and the more I learn the less smart I feel. I no longer will jump into any conversation, especially if it is heated, and/or concerns politics, and I am no longer the girl with the furrowed brow and much to say...I am now the girl with the happy smile, a martini, and a hair flip. I have a mean hair flip, I can out flip a Playboy bunny...but that's beside the point.

So where the hell was I? (hair flip, sip of vodka...kidding)

Ok, so, because of the holiday I was able to hang with the Pea this morning before taking her to school (very late, sorry!), take my time getting ready and spend a good hour in a DD sipping coffee and reading a book before heading off to see Mimi. While I was sitting there drinking my coffee and reading, I couldn't help but notice two men, about my dad's age, engaged in a fairly heated discussion. I have no idea if it was about politics or not, and neither were flipping their hair, but I got a chuckle because it made me remember my conversation with Smash last night, and sorry Dad, but I have to share.

Smash: "Yeah, so guess what? Dad has a bromance goin' on."

me: "Ha, no way! Dad? Nooooo"

Smash: "Yes, he has a new best friend he hasn't stopped talking about, they have lattes together and talk, we are teasing him mercilessly, hee hee...just saying bromance makes him get all red in the face."

me: "OMG, that's hilarious, do they get pedicures too?"

Smash: (Dad! you been getting pedis? K wants to know) "He just threw his beer bottle at me."

Ok, so NO, my dad didn't throw his beer bottle at my sister (it was a can) and of course my dad hasn't suddenly switched sides, but why is it that even us "evolved" girls can't let a man have a friend without much teasing. I mean, hell we girls will sit and chat for hours, drinking coffee, being silly, we get pedis and call each other honey, and hug and cry, and never think twice about it. Do we just like the word bromance and get satisfaction in making a grown man blush? I dunno, not exactly a big life issue or something that needs heated discussion about, but something to ponder.

So to Dad, and hell, all guys out there, I say go for it..go have coffee with your bros, talk about dead presidents (and by that I mean feelings, of course), whatever...and then, just for good measure, get your toes done and hug...don't worry, I won't tell.

sigh

Sigh...sorry folks, Bob did not come through...no chocolate, no wine, no...

I did, however, have a fabulous date with the Pea. We went to her favorite restaurant and despite the ONE AND A HALF hour wait, (I know with a three year old, that there is proof I am, in fact, crazy) it was great. When we got there we knew there would be a wait, but they wouldn't tell us how long, and I figured after about 30 minutes the Pea would want to bag it and we would just head home. Well every 20 minutes or so I would ask her if she wanted to leave and she kept saying no, and kept behaving, so we stayed. To the couple that sat next to us for awhile and then later brought us hushpuppies while we continued to wait THANK YOU!!! Yeah, a newlywed couple hung with us for about 40 minutes of the wait and not only kept her entertained with pictures but then after getting their table brought the Pea some hushpuppies...very cool.

Ya know this could have ended up being one of those posts about a horror story in a restaurant and an awful valentines and blah blah blah...I am so glad it isn't. I genuinely had a really nice time, and I know I am biased but I was really proud of the Pea...not only did she behave during the wait, but she behaved at the table as well, and was polite...whew, I don't think I could have handled it otherwise.

Ok, well despite having tomorrow off of work, I still feel like I have to get all my Sunday "chores" knocked out so I better sign off.

juicy

I CANNOT believe I am admitting this, but I am one of those girls who puts make-up on to go to the gym...yup...and not just "oh squeezing in a workout between work and home so still have some on" NO, NO...I actually applied make-up this morning knowing full well my itinerary consisted ONLY of a DD drive-thru, the gym, and the mall. For those of you who know me and know I rarely put on much more than powder and mascara, and that's to work, I bet you are confused, yes? Well, no, no hot guys workin' at the DD I am tryin' to impress, not suddenly a "high-maintenance" (stop laughing Mclovin & Booya - I AM NOT!) girl, don't suddenly think it's COOL and in addition am wearing those skin tight yoga pants that say JUICY across the ass, as it seems all "girls who wear make-up at the gym" seem to do...NO, I am trying to cover the ridiculous acne that has suddenly decided to make an appearance...and YES I have tried Proactive and yes I have been to a dermatologist, who BTW said Proactive would be a waste of money in my case (bastard was right).

See, every one's body reacts a little differently to stress...some people get really hungry and tired, some lose their appetites and have upset stomachs all the time, some, like me, break out. I'm not talking a few pimples either, it is gross, awful, yuck, yuck, yuck and I HATE IT...and the only "cure" is to stop being a stress ball. Problem is, part of what stresses me out is the prospect of being forever alone, and having nasty skin makes me not feel attractive, which leads to NOT putting myself out there which means no dates, or even prospects of dates, which just makes the fear of ending up alone that much more real...being broke and going through a divorce happen to be stressers too, but I choose to ignore them...

OK, so...the dermatologist (and Mimi) suggested that I try some stress management, to include; working out more, more yoga, cutting back on the coffee and the booze, and getting more sleep. The only one I have attempted to tackle thus far is the working out, which brings me to standing in my closet, in my workout attire cringing at my appearance and deciding to apply make-up. With every dab of concealer I was thinking "I can't believe I am doing this! This is crazy..." and yet I continued. I continued until my face and neck were a lovely matte beige, finished with mascara and lip gloss...and then a flip switched in my brain and I swear to god I considered changing into yoga pants that said JUICY across the ass.

your what on fire?

So I just got done googling "your snatch is on fire." Why? Why you ask? No, MY snatch is not on fire (a little lonely and underused these days, but otherwise fine), no...Smash, in an effort to cheer me from my somewhat dreary mood, suggested I do so. See she is convinced they are the words to a song she has heard a few times but doesn't know the name or artist of, and none of the other words are coherent.

Smash: Yeah, it's the craziest song, I don't know how he gets away with saying that on the radio, but it's clear as day, "your snatch is on fire," and NONE of the other words make any sense.

me: (laughing) Are ya sure?

Smash: Well no, but that's what is sounds like...of course I thought "saw you standin' there with a ticket stub in your hand" was "saw you standin' there with a chicken leg in your hand"...so I dunno...I was gonna google it at work, but that would just get me in trouble...you do it.

And that is exactly what I did, 173,000 matches...none of them song lyrics...even went to a song lyric website, no matches. Sorry Smash, don't know what to tell ya, thanks for the pick me up though.

So yeah, I was a little down...had one of those days where just nothing went quite as I had hoped. I went in for a "free" oil change and came out 3 hours later with new brakes and $200 less to my name. Didn't get to do any of the fun stuff I had planned for myself as a result, and then to top it ALL off made a blathering idiot out of myself in a Dunkin Donuts. Yes, my dear friend, I am gonna write about it...sorry. So here's the thing, I was a little down to begin with, PMSing, and SOMEHOW we get onto the topic of me and my silly heart and what I want etc. and next thing I know, I am bawling...GOD I hate being a girl sometimes.

I hate that sometimes what you NEED to hear (the truth) is the complete opposite of what you want to hear...I hate that sometimes in life you can't get what you want, or what you think you need...and I hate making a fool out of myself in public. I love that I have friends who WILL tell me the truth even if I don't like it...I love that even though I can't always get what I want, I still get most of what I need (and I couldn't always say that)...and I love you, my dear friend, for letting me make a fool out of myself today...next time though, seriously, slap me...or I'll set my snatch on fire.

ranting

I have to rant...I know I shouldn't, it will just get me more pissed, but I think someone needs slappin' and good. Ya know that lady out in Cali. who got herself knocked up and went and had herself a bunch of kiddos...eight to be exact. Well I can't hold back any more, I have to climb up on my little soapbox, go New York for a few minutes, and rant.

WHO THE F*CK DOES SHE THINK SHE IS?!? BRAGELINA?!? WTF? Now granted, I am not going to win any awards for parent of the year, and I do a shit load wrong each and every day, and because of my choices my daughter is in a less than ideal situation, so I shouldn't be throwin' stones, but come on! I AGONIZED over the decision to have a baby...I wanted one BAD, for a long time, and made sure I was in the best place I thought I could be (hindsight, I know, my bad) before even practicing to get pregnant. I had a baby daddy (although in all cases I don't think it's a bad thing to do it without), I had health insurance - including maternity, I had a home that could accommodate another human being without too much crowding, and I had a job. Far as I can tell she had none of the above when she went and got herself knocked up. NOT ONLY got herself pregnant, cuz let's be honest, if she had just had an oopsie the condom broke (or never made it's way on), this would be a non-issue...we wouldn't even know about it. She deliberately got herself impregnated with multiple babies when she already had six, SIX!! at home.

Here is where I say whoever gave Dr. Fertility/Jackass a medical license needs to think seriously about revoking it...the doctor needs a good slappin' WITH A BASEBALL BAT. Why was this woman impregnated rather than sent to a shrink? And who the hell paid for it? Which brings up the whole reason I feel OK about even talking about it, cuz if it WAS ol' Angie who did it, well that would not be my business. The Pitt household is self supporting, they don't take taxpayers money, so therefore if they want to have a dozen more, not my monkey. I can't tell you how much I want more babies, but guess what? Not gonna run out and get myself knocked up just cuz I can...there is a whole lot more to being a parent than "wanting a baby." Being a parent is HUGE, HUGE and anyone who KNOWINGLY goes into it without being at least SOMEWHAT physically, emotionally, and financially prepared is a SELFISH ASSHOLE. There are eight beautiful, innocent, little blessings struggling to make it out of the hospital and into this crazy world we live in, and I doubt highly they will be cared for the way they deserve. NO ONE, without the help of nannies (plural) can take care of 14 kids on their own, and to rely on US, the U.S. taxpayers, is just wrong...the woman needs a slappin'.

Whew, ok...hoppin' down off the soapbox now...gonna go think about makin' Pitt babies...oooh, better yet, Clooney babies, hmmmmm.

v-day with bob

The Pea is sick...the school called me while I was on my way home this evening, she had a fever. I don't think she is all that bad, but she is definitely not herself and I suspect we are in for a long night. Feeling a little blah myself...not sick, just down. Things are going reasonably well, but I have gotta be honest, not looking forward to my first Valentine's Day without a valentine in who knows how long. Not even a huge fan of the holiday, think it is one of those that is over commercialized and therefore not all that special, but nonetheless, wish I had a date...well, wish I had a date other than the Pea.

She will be accompanying me out Saturday night...still not positive what we will do, as many of our favorite places have "special menus" designed for lovahs...but we ARE going out, getting dressed up, and exchanging gifts (ok, I doubt she managed a shopping excursion without me, but SHE will be getting a Barbie Princess...shhhh, it's a surprise). I'm thinkin' despite it being SO not cool, that we will go early, beat the crowd...I figure: no one in restaurant, no happy couples to have to look at and be envious of, no wanting to vomit my dinner...win win for everyone.

For all of you thinking "Bob? What about Bob? Poor guy is gonna be all alone in the closet..." I made a deal with him...if he can manage to get me some chocolate and a bottle of wine, he is IN (and yes, pun intended).

I'll let you know how it goes...

naked and bleeding

We are back from the Sunday morning doughnut run...we skipped shopping this morning because I just couldn't muster the energy to put on anything other than yoga pants and a sweatshirt and I looked like ass. Walmart is not exactly the fashion capital of the world but even there I would have looked like a refugee. Gearing up for a big day...playing golf...yey! and while I am looking forward to the golf itself, I am a little leery of making my first appearance at the club since this blog went public. Apparently I was the "talk" of lunch the other day, and while from what I could gather it was all positive, I am still a little nervous. It's like that first day back at the office after a Christmas party where you drank too much and did something silly...I am feeling a little exposed and vulnerable.

So, speaking of exposed and vulnerable...I found myself in just that position the other day. More accurately I was buck naked and laying on the floor of my closet. Ok, ya know those skin tags? You know ladies, they pop up while you are pregnant, some people get bunches, some none (for those of you who don't know they are "tags" similar to moles, perfectly harmless, and best left alone)...well I got one while I was pregnant, on the side of my left boob, almost, but not quite in my pit...right where the side of my bra CONSTANTLY rubbed it.

The pregnancy books are VERY CLEAR about leaving the little bastards alone, regardless of how annoying they are..."do not pick, scratch, or try to remove skin tags..." blah, blah, blah...well when Smash was pregnant she got bunches and I distinctly remember her saying (I SWEAR we had this conversation) that she just "rips them off." So there I am the other day, standing in my closet, getting dressed and little f-in' thing is taunting me, and I hear Smash's voice "I just rip 'em off" and next thing I know the skin tag is gone, only to be replaced by A LOT of blood, and since self surgery is close enough to "all things medical" for me, I start to have a panic attack. Ears are ringing, I can't breathe, oh shit, I think I am gonna pass out...shit, shit, shit...sitting down, now laying down, oh please make it stop, I am bleeding all over the carpet. DAMNIT!!!

After what feels like an ETERNITY, I CRAWL to the bathroom, cuz anytime I try to stand I get woozy, get my "wound" cleaned up, slap a band aid on, which has to be replaced like 5 minutes later cuz it is soaked through, and find my phone so I can call Smash.

me: "Hey, any advice on wound care after removing a skin tag?"

Smash: "WHAT?! You had a skin tag removed?"

me: "NO, I ripped it off, don't you remember? We had a conversation about them and YOU TOLD ME you could just rip them off!"

Smash: "OMG!!! NO!! I NEVER SAID YOU COULD JUST RIP THEM OFF!!"

me: "I swear you did..."

Smash: "NO, what I said was, you can twist them until they pop off, but you better make sure you have lots of gauze and peroxide and band aids nearby because they bleed like crazy, and for days (laughing) tell me you didn't just rip if off."

me: "Oh yeah, I did, and then I was laying on the floor of my closet BUCK NAKED AND BLEEDING AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Smash: (LAUGHING!) "O.M.G."

Happy to report the removal of my little appendage has healed nicely, my advice however: "do not pick, scratch, or try to remove skin tags..."

marriage and botox

CONGRATULATIONS GEORGIE!!!!!! So? Was I right about the ring? Very good, right...I got your back, girl. Welcome to our crazy world...

As you can probably guess Georgie is now officially engaged...gettin' hitched to Booya...and while I was planning on being the best man I decided I would gracefully bow out and let Big Brother have the honors. We were gonna duke it out, maybe arm wrestle for it...he has about...oh lets see...a foot and about 100lbs on me, but I'm scrappy, and I knew I could take him...I didn't wanna embarrass him. The words "guest book" got tossed around, still not sure what that's about...seriously guys, CONGRATS!

Yeah, so, anytime you are going through a divorce and someone in your circle is getting married it gets tough. All these emotions come up, and you can't help but think about your own wedding and marriage in general...you want to jump for joy for them and be happy and excited, and yet there you are with a marriage that is ending. I am still trying to deal with and come to terms with my marriage ending...it is NOT a happy time, or in anyway fun and exciting...and as a matter of fact, according to some new study is more stressful and therefore more damaging to your body than staying married or getting widowed. Yeah, some study on aging found that women (only women, apparently) age quicker, and uglier, if they go through a divorce, than if they stay married or lose their spouse.

Hmmmm, so lets see, here are my options: stay in my marriage or kill my husband (which let's face it, staying in the marriage could lead to): look fabulous, young, and appealing to other men...get out of my marriage: end up looking like an old hag and therefore NOT attractive to other men...fabulous...so glad I read that study. Might be high time to start thinkin' about Botox.

Wow, sorry Georgie, I really didn't think I was heading in this direction when I started writing, if my invite to the wedding gets "lost in the mail" I will understand...maybe I'll just go call my dermatologist...make an appointment for some Botox, a little laser treatment or two...oh who am I kidding, just thinking about that needle near my face makes me wanna pass out.

welcome

To those of you new here, and that's most of you, welcome! Don't hesitate to make comments and weigh in, (you can do it anonymously) but be nice...remember these are just the random musings of a mommy...I am not your kid's teacher, your doctor or lawyer, a lawmaker or politician, what I think really doesn't matter in the big ol' scheme of things...enjoy & happy reading!

thanks

I bought myself a ring a while back...it was a big deal for me, it is the first "real" piece of jewelery I have ever bought myself and while it wasn't that expensive it was still a splurge (I bought it before my accident and the subsequent deductible). Also it has meaning, I bought it to replace my wedding band and to remind myself to "love, honor, and cherish" myownself and not wait around for a man to do it. Well the other day I was able to catch up with Mclovin and since we hadn't seen each other since before my purchase I was like "Look! see my ring?" He goes "It looks like you've been tagged." Huh? Well I wear it on my thumb and apparently he thought it made me look like I had been shot with a tranquilizer gun, taken down, and tagged - great...not at all what I was going for...so I go "Yeah, but see it has all this meaning and its..." I noticed his eyes were glazing over and he was slipping into a coma and remembered, duh, he is a GUY...I changed the subject.

Later he asked if I had heard from B2 (actually I hadn't really thought about him, but now that you mention it NO, I haven't, but thanks for the reminder of the humiliation of standing in my closet, buck naked, getting blown off by text, thanks, thanks A LOT...)
me: "Nope."
him: "Oh well, his loss...but if you wanna mess with him you can send him a text...'I'm pregnant, I think you're the father'"
O.M.G. my drink nearly shot out of my nose...
me: (Laughing) "That is awesome!!! Slightly wicked and hilarious at the same time - I love it!"

Ok, so here's the thing...I had a similar exchange with Gigi, only she listened with rapt attention while I went on and on about the ring and then in regards to B2 said something to the effect of "Oh honey, I'm sure he is just busy, I know he really liked you." Which is why of course I like having both male and female friends...the ladies will listen to me yammer and be sweet and lovely and try to build me up...the guys will tell it to me straight, and try to make my drink come out my nose.

In getting ready to take this blog "public" I felt it important to tell all the people I had been writing about all this time that I had a blog, and that they were in it, and that I was gonna tell the world...overwhelmingly the guy response was (AFTER, "OMG you have a blog, you are such a dork! Are there naked pictures?") "Whatever, cool." The ladies were different...some were happy, some were not, but all had A LOT to say about it and all said it passionately, they all took a personal stake in it. Turns out I needed that...I needed to be built up, bolstered, supported and encouraged, and I also needed to be reminded that well in fact, it is just a blog, whatever, and to not take it too seriously.

So, to Smash, Gigi, Mom: thanks for all the love, support, and words of encouragement...to: Booya, Mclovin, & Dude: thanks for keepin' me real.

I luv u guys!

ballet

So I went to the ballet yesterday...lovely. Gotta give props to Carolina Ballet, and while all the dancers are amazing, Margaret Severin-Hansen is AH-MAY-ZIN...Bravo!

Yes, I am a HUGE fan of the ballet...all dance really...something about the grace, coupled with music that is wonderful but not what I normally listen to, just makes for a fantastic experience. I went by myself, which both Mclovin and Booya thought strange (although not strange enough to volunteer to accompany me - tee hee), and I am glad I did. I don't mind going by myself, I actually PREFER to go unaccompanied than to drag along someone who really doesn't care to go. I totally get NOT being into something...I HATE opera, hate it, Mom loves it, if she drug me I would NOT appreciate it and it would be a total waste of money. If I ended up going to the ballet with someone who wasn't into it, I would sit there the whole time wondering if they were enjoying themselves, being worried they weren't, and as a result not have a good time myself.

A perfect case in point...the dude who sat behind me. He obviously got drug by his wife, had no interest in the show, and apparently was also kinda tired because he FELL ASLEEP...yeah, and how do I know that? The snoring...he started SNORING...OMG so annoying and the worse part? The wife didn't wake him up!! I mean granted she was probably thinkin' "oh good, now he won't sit here bitchin' and askin' if we can leave" but for those of us around him - HELLO? Did ya not think we might NOT want to hear a dude snoring?! And, call me cheap, but why waste the money if you don't want to go? I just don't get it.

OK, well it is late and I am fried...usually not on the computer at this hour on Sunday but didn't really get busy until after the big game was over...bet there were no dudes asleep in the stands there...GREAT game btw...Oh and if anyone ever wants to "drag" me to a SuperBowl game, I can guarantee I won't fall asleep.