Irksome

1.  This:

Do I really want to think about who is in the car in front of me at the red light? No, I don't.  I want the frickin' like to change so that I can be on my way. I do not want to see your family of stick people with your 2.5 children and your dog.  Do you know what I always wonder? What if the dog dies? Do you take his sticker off? Do you buy a new dog and just tell him he has to use the same sticker?? Isn't that like getting divorced and giving your new wife the same wedding set?

2.  Telemarketers calling my CELL PHONE! WTF?? How did they get this number?? There are people I'm related to who don't have my cell phone number.

3.  Crocs.  Do I really need to explain how bad they are? You've seen them, right? TERRIBLE.

4.  Those obnoxious sports decal stickers with your kids' names on them.  I was behind a Suburban the other day that had FOURTEEN of them, I swear! And they were for two kids! Seriously?? You have two kids and they are into SEVEN sports each???? No wonder you drive a frickin' Suburban...you must have to sleep in that thing to get them to all the practices and games they have.

5.  Knee-length shorts.  Can we all just agree to commit either way? Either commit to jeans or commit to shorts.  None of this namby-pamby "I can't make a decision so I'm going with 'jorts'" nonsense. I'm afraid the jury is still out on capri pants...I can't help but feel like a huge dork when I wear them (which is not often), but then other people can totally pull them off in that "I'm going yachting after we finish the back 9 at the country club" way. 

6. Book series.  Yes, I know...how hard is it to be irked by books when you love to read as much as I do??? But seriously...the series....it's killin' me.  I am anxiously awaiting the arrival of not one, not two, but THREE different series to publish the next book! THREE! Believe me, I know writing is not a quick process (sometimes I write the same blog post for three days...and that's just a few paragraphs), BUT STILL. My thought: don't publish it until the whole damn thing is finished.  I don't care if book one starts in 1982 and everyone drives Trans Ams and wears parachute pants, publish it at the same time as book four, which takes place in 2012 and the 7-year-old sister is now 34 and having kids! I'm over the waiting BS.

7.  Bottled water.  Because I'm pretty sure Nestle Pure Life has totally made me its bitch.  And I hate that.  I'll admit...the, like, ONE green thing I do is reuse a water bottle and fill it up out of the water fountain.  But, it sucks.  It's tap water.  It tastes like crap.  But I feel like such a craphead buying bottled water and drinking 8 bottles of it a day.  Nestle: You own me no more!

8.  The way my husband never seems to lose a damn thing.  Text message, "Hey, where are my truck keys?", Me: "In my jeans from yesterday", Him: "WTF? Why didn't you put them on the bar?".  I'm sorry....what? Whose truck keys are they, douchebag?? How is that I managed to lose YOUR truck keys??  In fact, so far this week, I've lost the truck keys, the pliers and two pairs of socks....that weren't mine to lose to begin with.

9.  People who call, I send them to voicemail and they immediately call back.  Then, when I answer and I'm like, whispering, "Hey...is everything okay? I'm in a meeting..." they're like "Oh yeah, I was just on my home from work in traffic and thought we could chat!".  Really? If I don't answer, take that as a hint that I: 1. can't find my phone or 2. can't talk right now.  Either way? I'll call you back....promise.

10. The bar.  And no, not the bar where they sell beer and shots and occasionally you stumble onto a kick-ass live band or karaoke.  The bar that is in my house and serves as a nifty little divider between my living room and kitchen.  And also serves as a place for every last thing under the sun.  Currently on my bar at this very moment: library books, the spare change jar, 48 baseball caps, 75 pairs of sunglasses, 3 legal pads, 14 pens, a belt, the charger for the emergency flashlight, the charger for my husband's new drill, chapstick....and the list goes on and on.  O. M. G. I'm OVER the bar.

Bloody Mary visits for dinner

Dinner conversation at my house:


Kid: Did you know if you say “Bloody Mary” three times, you’ll be cursed? And not like the drink, because you can say that and not get cursed.

Me: *choking on my water* Oh, really? Where did you hear that?

Kid: From Allie, at school.

Me: Well, how does she know?

Kid: She said “Bloody Mary” three times. And she got cursed.

Me: Cursed, huh? Interesting. So did you tell her about the drink part?

Kid: No, I just know that.

Me: Awesome, of course you know that a Bloody Mary is a drink (sorry, Mom). So, she got cursed?? What happened to her?

Kid: Her bicycle disappeared.

Me: Oh yeah? So is that what it means to be cursed? Like, how would I know I’m cursed?

Kid: Well, you would like, go to your office in the morning and your laptop would be gone.

Me: I’m not sure I’d consider that a curse…

Kid: No, Mom, like gone forever! And you would never get it back.

Me: So have you tried it?

Kid: No. And I can’t say it again. I’ve already said it twice.

Me: *snort* I’m pretty sure it’s three times in a row, honey.

Dad: Yeah, like “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary”.

Kid: *GASP* DAD!!! Now you’re cursed!!

Dad: Uh oh! What do you think that means??

Kid: The red truck is gone!

Me: Really? You think Dad got cursed so the red truck disappeared?? (again, not much of a curse since the stupid thing isn't running all that great right now...)

Kid: Yes!

(She bolts up from the dinner table, runs to the front door and throws it open)

Kid: Whew! It’s still there!

Me: Well, do you think the Tahoe will disappear if I say it?

Kid: Probably.

Me: Okay, let’s try it. “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary”. Well???

Kid: It’s still there. It didn’t work.

(Comes back to the dinner table)

Kid: Allie must be lying.

Me: Yeah, probably so. Does Allie have a big sister or brother?

Kid: Yeah, a sister. *pause*  Maybe I need to tell Allie that Bloody Mary is a drink and not a curse.

Me: Um, no, probably not. I’m sure her big sister will take care of that soon enough, sweetheart.

And this is why you should sit down with your family and have dinner together during the week.

Twitter Reject

I'll admit it...I *tried* to be cool.  And I failed. 

I tried to do the Twitter.

Problem is?
I can't.

WTF??

Why is it so damn confusing?? Sure, I can tweet, but what how in the hell do you retweet someone else's tweet?? You can do that right? And can you respond to someone's tweet or comment on it like you do on facebook??

Seriously, I need a tutorial.

The radio morning show I listen to plays a game called "Who's Tweet is it Anyway?" and they basically pick three celebrities, read their tweets out loud and the two deejays and a caller have to guess who's tweet it was.  Whoever gets the most right wins tickets to a show or whatever. 

Okay...sounds simple enough.  But holy hell! I don't get it.  These people are just posting these random funny tweets about whatever they're doing that day or whatever's going on in the world of politics and then, without fail, they have some super-witty hashtag to add to it.

What the hell is a hashtag? Do you have to put one? If you do, does it have to be super-witty? Because, let me assure you people, I have tried! TRIED! And I'd like to think I'm a fairly witty person (um, hello?? You're reading this crap, aren't you?), but apparently I lack the amount of wit and sarcasm needed to create a Twitter hashtag that's worth a damn.

"Heading to the grocery store to grab stuff for dinner! #ilovechicken"
"Taking the kids to see The Smurfs! Love Neil Patrick Harris! #wtfwashethinking"
"What is up with Michele Bachmann being such a hater? #drinkmorewine"
"Lindsay Lohan has successfully completed her morgue community service...think they still have formaldehyde left? #wellpreserved"
"Anybody else notice that 'caucus' sounds alot like 'carcass'? #governmentisdead"

See? I just can't do it.  (Okay, actually, I kinda like the last one...but I feel like people reading it will think I'm a. an anti-patriot or b. a moron).  I suck at Twitter.

Coolness: FAIL.

Confessions of a Bad Mother: The Christmas Edition

1. My kid's "Teacher Gift" this year was a re-gift. I'm a serial re-gifter.

2.  I have not made any Christmas cookies, treats, snacks, or other forms of baked goods AT ALL this year and I do not intend to.  I actually took a crab dip to a Christmas party last night, saw there was a shitload of food and stuck it in the fridge to save for the Christmas party I'm going to today.  Yes, mom, I know that was tacky, but the hostess assured me it was no problem...and I wanted to believe her, so I did.

3.  I do not have an Elf on a Shelf.  I will never have an Elf on a Shelf.  For two reasons: 1. They're creepy as hell and 2. I'm too fucking lazy to move the stupid thing every night.  My kids will never know the joy that comes from knowing that Santa, in all his "naughty/nice" glory, sent a minion to watch over you and make sure you don't screw it up in the weeks before Christmas.  How Big Brother are we, Santa?? And where the hell is the elf the rest of the year?? Where was that fucker on the day the kid took a black magic marker to the new carpet and the dog?? I didn't see his creepy ass lurking around THEN, did I?? So, that's a big NEGATIVE on the Elf on a Shelf.

4.  I put ribbon on all of my packages because I am obsessive about wrapping gifts and they all have to be pretty.  Yes, I know kids can't get the ribbon off and dad has to pull out his pocket knife to cut it, thereby endangering the kid because dad now has a knife out, but they have to be PRETTY, dammit! The "Bag o' Bows" doesn't cut it at our house.

5. I found a Target bag with an Easter book and a brown stuffed rabbit in it in the closet with the gift wrapping stuff.  Guess who's getting an Easter book and a stuffed rabbit in one of her presents?? Double the Jesus holiday!

6.  I have no outside lights and no inflatable yard decorations.  I'm certain I'm on some sort of list because of this and I can only hope it's not the naughty one.  People on my street probably think we're Jewish....or Jehovah's Witnesses (aren't they the ones that don't celebrate holidays? I'm pretty sure they are.)

7.  I started my Christmas shopping on December 11th.  STARTED.  I'm so screwed.

8.  The other day, I was driving home and the crossing arm thingy was down at the railroad crossing by my house and there was a train stopped on the tracks a ways back from it.  So the arm goes up and the dude in front of me starts across before it was all the way up.  THEN, it started coming back down on his car! It literally almost chopped down on his car...he had to, like, gun it to get through before it hacked the top of his Jeep! And, I laughed.  Because it would have been hilarious if it had just whacked the shit out of his car!

And I know, that makes me a bad person. 

And that story has nothing to do with Christmas, but I hate lists with odd numbers.
 

You might be breaking up with me after reading this post.

(Disclaimer: Some of you may never read my blog again.  You may, in fact, "unfriend" me from facebook, quit following me on twitter and possibly never speak to me again.  It's okay...I understand.  Oh, and yes, you read that correctly, I've sold out and I do the Twitter.  I know.  I'm lame.)

You know what I don't get?

The whole "married couple sharing one facebook page" thing.

Really? I took your last name, I birthed your child and I give you sex regularly enough to keep you interested.  Now you want my flippin' social network???

Um, no.

To me, that feels a little too much like "Hey, now that we're married, it's just easier for us to have one cell phone contract, one checking account and oh yeah, one identity."  Hmm...I'll keep my checking account and my identity, thanks....although you're totally right about the cell phone contract, so let's do that one for sure.

Would you believe I survived an entire 25 years before I even knew my husband??? (A fact of which I have to remind him often when he tries to be too bossy, but which I can totally forget should there be some sort of rodent in the house.)

Yeah, so I'm pretty sure I can handle my own social networking without him, thanks.  I have my own friends, my own hobbies and interests, things I "like" that he may not....and last I checked, I'm pretty okay with that.  Keeps conversation interesting at the dinner table, ya know? It's not like:
"Hey did you know so-and-so got engaged?"
"Yeah"
"Oh, well did you see that the new blah-di-blah album is out?"
"Yeah, on facebook"
"Oh.....umm....well...how was your day?"
"Didn't you see our status? It sucked."
"Well, I had a great day...so why would OUR status say it sucked??"
"Because it's OUR status...duh"

I would guess that most people in favor of the shared facebook page believe it helps eliminate questions as to fidelity in your marriage.  I really don't know...I guess people think it just helps keep it all "above board" between you and your spouse.  So there are no questionable friendships or relationships of which your spouse is unaware?? 

Here's the deal: Ring + Vows = Fidelity.  Period.

I happen to be friends with quite a few people I've dated in the past.  Is that a problem? No, because the word is datED, as in past tense, no longer and over with.  It satisfies my inner stalker and assures me that they ended up marrying someone *almost* as cool as I am (well, except for this one guy who ended up marrying a doctor...dude, you did waaay better with that chick, I promise!).  And so if my husband and I occasionally like to poke fun of this guy I dated for a bit in college and is now super fat and lives with his mom, well, that's just all the more fun for us, huh?
If that is the argument used by proponents of the "single facebook page lifestyle", I'm sorry, but in my opinion, it's flawed.  Seriously, if I were going to cheat, I certainly wouldn't be dumb enough to do it from my OWN facebook page! Um, helloooo?? I'd create a fake one that only me and my affair buddy would know about....duh.  Which would mean that even if Ronnie and I were "co-facebookers", he still wouldn't know I was having an affair and the whole point of having a single page would be moot. (Sidebar: LOVE LOVE LOVE using the word "moot"!)

So now all the "same-page couples" that read this can go unfriend me on facebook...it's fine, I totally understand.  Although to be fair, I'm going to have to ask you to unfriend my husband, too, right?

Right.

Mom

This is for you, Mama! Happy birthday and I love you.


My mom is:

fearless yet terrified of losing someone she loves; a GREAT cook; funny; the most courageous person I’ve ever known; an antique watch collector; my best friend; still able to put my head on her shoulder and let me cry even though I’ve got five inches on her; a thoughtful person; a jewelry fiend; fiercely loyal, often to her own detriment; a voracious reader; a hottie; really good at driving really fast…unless she’s talking; the best wine-tasting partner EVER; great in a crisis; Southern; never one to say “I told you so”; bad at remembering and retelling jokes; someone who prays daily; highly entertained by my sense of humor; constantly working to better herself; accepting of others; someone who often over-analyzes things; independent; a lover of cowboy boots and blue jeans; a shopaholic; a doting yet firm grandmother; a virtuous woman; a cowgirl through and through; a gadget-lover; well-traveled, well-spoken and well-educated; always up for an adventure; a sports-car fanatic; a dreamer and yet a realist; a giver; supportive of decisions I make even if she feels they’re not good ones; open-minded; family oriented; the coolest Mom EVER.

Self-Help 101 (I'm pretty sure I should write a book...)

Things I'm good at:
-thinking through other people's problems and offering multiple solutions that involve analysis of even the most discreet of details.  (Seriously, I am the mother of all problem solvers....)

Things I'm not good at:
-solving my own problems.

WTF?

How does that even add up??

How is it possible for me to objectively consider all angles of other people's lives, issues, circumstances, etc. and offer multiple reasonable solutions and when it's my own shit, which I should know backwards and forwards?? I freeze up and become a bundle of anxiety.  Then my husband has to talk me down from the ledge and intravaneously feed me vodka.

Makes no sense.  I need to grow some balls or something.  Seriously.  I just want to tell myself exactly what I would me if I were my friend who was as good at problem solving as I am to my friends (yeah, just go with it)..."Man up, grow some balls and face the issue."  Damn, I give good advice when I'm pretending to be my friend who is really as good at this stuff as I am.

If you happen to overhear me talking to myself, no worries...it's my new "pretend to be my friend who is good at listening to my problems and offering solutions that don't involve ledge-jumping or vodka" self-help strategy.

In fact, here's a list of the self-help strategies I employ when stressed out:
-Cry
-Hyperventilate
-Drink
-Lose sleep
-Drink
-Bitch at my husband
-Cuss
-Drink
-Gripe about everything
-Cry
-Lose more sleep
-Drink more

How are these "helpful"? They're not, really....but I generally feel better after I finish this list.  Or perhaps I just have a buzz? Either way....