June 1, 2007

June 01, 2007


So. Give me free time and I do crap. So, I went and got a pedicure, right? A friend told me about a new place where nobody yells at me in a language I cannot understand. Cool. I drug one son with me. He had a videogame thing with him, so he didn't protest too much. He sat and stared at the little contraption and pushed buttons on it. So, I go...it's clean, it's new. It's okay. Nobody tries to make small talk with me. Mostly. I can pretty much handle the tiny bit of small talk the dude does try to make with me, and even though his English is HEAVILY accented and I pretty much understood NOTHING he said, it was okay. I now have lovely toes once again.

BUT....

My big toes have these fucking forest green star-burst pattern .....THINGS on them with navy blue polka dots going down the centers. Evidently, at some point....I agreed to that little treat. What.the.HELL? And it was EXTRA...of course. WhatEVer.

Anyhow, he didn't break out a razor and shave old dead skin off my feet which is a good thing because you know you can get all sorts of nasty assed diseases from that. Then, when I shuffled over to my son to tell him we could go, he promptly touched my right big toe with his oaf-ish foot and scraped some of my LOVELY star-burst polka dot pattern off. DAMN! Anyhow, I did get this mind numbingly delicious leg and foot massage and he put hot towels around my calves...Jesus Murphy it was HEAVEN!

So, since VC didn't shave off my skin, I decided to do that myself last night. I have one of those razor callous shaver thingies. Only I have no business using sharp things. I cut the living SHIT out of my left heel. I limped into the kitchen to get a bandage and when I turned around, I noticed a trail of blood that looked like someone had been axe murdered stretching out behind me. Since I had undertaken this bit of primping after midnight; everyone else in the house was asleep, so I had nobody to whine and complain to. I had to take care of myself and cuss myself.
So, I did. Thoroughly. And I was bleeding too much for a mere bandage. I had to get gauze and then THREE bandages to hold the gauze. I'm practically MAIMED. Plus, I had to use an antiseptic pad and antibiotic gel! All alone!

And then....I got my damned effin' period. God DAMN it. DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN. HELL FUCK AND SHIT.


Let's see...what else? We went to a "family" appointment for one of my children, and we had to do a "sculpting" exercise. You place the various members of your family in the positions you see them occupying in everyday life. It can be symbolic or whatever. I had to go first. It's not very easy. It's quite thought provoking. UNLESS you are my husband. The kid's sculptures of the family were really interesting and one was very predictable, but the older one's sculpture was quite unexpected and relieving. But my HUSBAND'S??????

Oh.my.GOD. I can't even go into it. I just can't. I may have to become a nun or hell, I can't do that, I'm Jewish. I could what.....become a hermit? Can I do that? Can I join an ashram in India? Or a Kibbutz in Israel? I don't know, but hell...people are lucky I'm not murderous. Really, really lucky. People are lucky I'm one calm motherfucker. That's all I'm saying.

Then, I effin' groomed two of the three stupid assed dogs who I love to death. Not to DEATH...but I am really crazy about the dogs. One had an old turd stuck to his ass hairs, though. I mean....come ON. Now that I am on vacation, I guess it was time for it to get taken care of. I was too embarrassed to take him to the groomer's like that. And the smallest dog has never been to the groomer's and she is quite possibly not a dog, but some mutant species of something...so I'm not risking taking HER $3,000 ass to the groomer's. No, I patiently sat on the floor with a towel underneath their nasty asses and got bit and scratched whilst cutting away too long fur and patiently making my way to the largest petrified turd on record. If such records are kept. Which, since my faith in humanity is at an all time low, I'm quite sure such records ARE kept.
The third dog....the brainless one who barks at any and all stimulus just ran in circles around us barking. That was a GREAT help. I had purchased a pretty pink harness for the tiny mutant creature...but because I am tired and have lost faith in all things, I couldn't figure out how to put it on the wriggling hound of Hell.
Husband who is lucky I am not homicidal was no help. Actually, that's been the theme, lately.

I've got cramps and Husband is no help.