What Would YOU do?

So, let's say you are married to this man who is insane, right? This man thinks YOU should be able to do ANYTHING. This includes working, cooking, cleaning, child rearing, mind reading, space/time travel, telepathy, bringing dead pets back from the dead, fix any computer even if there is NOTHING wrong with it, make a cell phone work without a SIM card, send smoke signals to contact him, always magically know his whereabouts, fashion a timekeeping instrument like a Sundial that will fit on his wrist, never need winding, have Atomic clock capabilities...I can go on. I'll spare you, though.

I am married to this man. Everyone thinks he is the calmest, sweetest thing ever. Why, he would NEVER raise his voice! He would NEVER say anything mean! He is like a little puppy dog! Yeah, a puppy dog that is really a Hound from Hell that you just took a chew toy away from.

I even video taped him throwing a fit yesterday because he couldn't figure out how to upload pictures to his Facebook page. I scanned them in for him, emailed them to him and then he went berserk. I finally told him I wouldn't deal with him if he was going to cuss, scream and threaten me. So, he decides to call some company off the internet and pay them to tell him how to UPLOAD PICTURES TO HIS FACEBOOK PAGE. Dude. I figured it out alone. Children figure it out alone. Really old people figure it out alone. Some people have pets that have evidently figured it out alone. My husband? No. I told him if he called those jackholes and paid them to tell him how to upload pictures to effin' Facebook, that I would go shopping and I can spend WAY better than he can. Plus, can you imagine the person who would answer his call? They would have a great story to tell for a long time, but really? Calling a place NOT affiliated with Facebook and PAYING them to walk you through the steps that basically a wombat could figure out on their own? I swear. Honestly.

Plus, there are HUGE budget cuts going on in the place I work, and everybody is wigging out about their jobs. Including me. Should I wig out? Should I not? I don't know, but everyone else is, so I figured I better join in. Otherwise, I might get blindsided and never see a lay off coming.

PLUS, I am tired.
Plus, I am going through menopause.
PLUS, I am married to an insane person.
PLUS, I have two teenage sons who God help them probably don't know their address, even though we taught it to them when they were little.
PLUS, insanity runs in my family. OBVIOUSLY.
PLUS, my back hurts.
I am sure I could think of more, but I think I'm finished bitching for now. If you need Xanax, I am sorry. I need it, too. I think I will go get some. I advise the whole world to do the same.

Real Quick...

Who on Earth is reading this thing from Russia? I am fascinated to know! If you are reading this from Russia, let me know. Or hell, anywhere else, either. Let me know. Comment or do whatever it is people do on these things. Seriously, though...RUSSIA? Awesome.

Aging Gracefully

Is a stupid concept. Gracefully? Screw that. Give me Botox and Juvederm. Whatever. I'll do it. I don't want a bunch of sags and lines all over my face I've washed religiously for years to avoid zits, and then wrinkles. All those expensive creams, facials and makeup I've used...why let it just go to waste? I keep my hair up, after all. I keep the Grey covered because if I don't, I'll look like an aging blond Pepe La Pew. You are welcome, world. Once again, you are welcome. I just give and give...I swear.

So, yeah. Today we went to have lunch with my family for my birthday which was yesterday. I'm 45. I don't care who knows. Who gives a crap? I'm obviously not 25, I have a child about to graduate high school, one in college and one who is probably going to be a perpetual freshman in high school. It's very obvious I'm not in my 30s. (Unless I started very early, in which case I would probably be dead because my dad would have murdered me.) I just don't want to look OLDER than I am. There is my rant on anti aging crap. Deal.

So, while we were at lunch, I mentioned that my best friend who lives in another state and I had sort of knocked around the idea of going to Costa Rica during Spring Break. Not like a "Girls Gone Wild" spring break. More of a "tired middle aged women with kids who want to sleep uninterrupted and lay on the beach" spring break. (Lay? Lie? I never can keep it straight.) Anyhow, my brother, who is 41, mind you...he decides that he is the Patriarch of the family, right? He decided this ohhhh, I don't know about 35 years ago or something. He's the boss, right? Wrong. Nobody is the boss of me. He decides to chime in with his sage advice. Here is the conversation in script form to allow for easier understanding:
My One and ONLY (Thank God) sibling: Um, Costa Rica?
Me: Yeah.
Him: You DO realize that you are 45, right?
Me: Duh. Can't get anything past you.
Him: You have kids.
Me: I DO? OhmyGOD!!!
Him: Very funny. You are not a kid.
Me: Really? Do tell. When is your NEXT (as in 50th) trip to DisneyWorld?
Are you gonna dance with Minnie Mouse this time?
Him: *glares at me*
Me: *glares back smugly*
My MOTHER(who butted into the conversation): Who is going to take care of________(my friend's daughter)?
Me: Dunno. I'm not her mother. ___________(my friend) is. My kids will be here with their father. Or you. If they are bad, with you.
Mom: You are not a nice girl.
Me: We've established that.
My brother who really should shut up: Don't you think it's a little irresponsible for you to go running off to party in Costa Rica?
Me: Um, nobody said we were "partying". I did mention "sleeping", though. ALONE. BLISSFULLY, QUIETLY ALONE. See, I'm FORTY FIVE and that is freaking HEAVEN to me.

So, my whole family now thinks I'm selfish because the idea was MENTIONED. No plans have been made, no tickets purchased...nada. They are SO selfish! What will they do when I tell them about my Yoga retreat in Sri Lanka or my Surfing Safari in South America?
One funny thing: My brother compared an aspic dish at the restaurant to the product "Clamato". My son thought he said, "Chlamydia". He was appalled. (My son). I was laughing hysterically, and my brother kept asking me to repeat it because I was trying not to yell "CHLAMYDIA!!!" across the freakin' table. I was mouthing it silently to him and he kept saying crap like, "Clambake?" "What?" "Claptrap? Huh?" and I kept laughing and shaking my head. When I finally got it out, he was disgusted and wanted to know if my son really knew what it was. I asked for him not to get too specific. My son told him that he knew that it was something I'd kill him for. Wise child. I really don't know if my brother knows what it is or not.

I thought it was a plant for years, and told my Mom I had some chlamydia. She freaked out on the phone when I told her and I was mystified as to why she was upset that I had taken an interest in gardening. She was screeching, "WHAT?!?!?! YOU HAVE WHAT?!?!?!" I kept patiently repeating "I have some Chlamydia. I got it today." She kept wigging the hell out. After going back and forth for about 8 hours about it, she finally said, "Wait. Do you mean, CALADIUMS?" and I said, "Yeah, isn't that what I said?" and she said, "NO! You said you had CHLAMYDIA!!!!!" and I said, "Oops, no. I have the plant. Not the disease." Then I probably hung up. I don't remember. Such is my life. A series of misunderstandings and insults. C'est la vie!

Various and Sundry

Howdy folks. I'm from Texas. We say "Howdy Folks". Nah, not really.

So, you know how people do dream analysis? I had a dream about a guitar last night. Figure that one out. I don't play the guitar. Ever.

Today was better than yesterday because I was able to actually TEACH CHILDREN IN THE CLASSROOM. Yahoo! Imagine that.

NOw, here is a deal: I knit. I'm not great, I'm still learning stitches to add to my repetoire, but I love it and I have made a bazillion headbands and hats. I am absolutely PETRIFIED to make something major like a sweater.

Now, I must pee. It's been great. But I have to go, now.

Not Fit For Public View

Hello. How are ya? Good. Great. Good to hear. Me? Not so great. Yeah, see...I had to go to a "meeting" today for work and our "meetings" are really "rip the hell out of the employee" sessions for the people "in charge". It's tiring. Really, really tiring. I did not take one single Xanax all day. I kick serious ass. We actually got told that we couldn't go OUT to lunch because we didn't look good enough for the public to see us. Seriously. Coupla problems with that. Number one: Shut up. You are an asshole.(the person who made the comment about going out in public.) Number two: Look in a mirror lately, asshat? Seriously. Get your money back from your dentist. For real. Number three: I'm not positive, but I'm PRETTY sure you can't keep me in a building or anywhere really against my will simply because you are an egomaniacal dipshit. Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think so. If I am, please forward me the law or article or whatever that says I can be held against my will in my place of employment because a person who also works there is a sphincter. I'd appreciate it.

My neck hurts. My shoulder hurts. My head hurts. PLUS, on my WORST day, I look a million times better than that anal fissure has ever looked in their entire lifetime.

Yes, I'm complaining. I'm bitching. I'm allowed to do that. IT'S AMERICA, PEOPLE! I wanted to stand on the table and shout that today, but decided to not follow all of my urges immediately. It probably saved me from going to jail, but who's to say? Certainly not me. After all, I'm a lazy, not fit for public view, ass sitting individual who doesn't deserve to live. At least that is the message I got today.
If anyone wants to come work with me, let me know. I'll try and hook you up. I anticipate many openings after this Spring. Even though we were given Nostradamus-like predictions about gas prices and the economy,(it's bad...did you know that? I was ASTONISHED to learn this piece of news!), I think a lot of people are going to say "eff this crap" and look for greener pastures. Hell, browner pastures....ANY PASTURE would be better.

Sorry if I caused anyone to feel down. Life's a bitch. Suck it up. Come work with me and then try and not feel this way. I gotta go get some pharmaceuticals, now.
Love ya!

It's finally over.

Christmas, that is. Don't get me wrong, I like it as much as any other non-Christian celebrant. I love the tree, the decorations, the smells, the food and the presents and family. We don't talk about the baby Jesus or anything, and we never have. I'm not sure I even knew the supposed significance of the holiday until I was an adult. But, I enjoy the tradition and my Mom always throws her feet out in the decorating and cooking areas. Seriously. Christmas toilet paper, even.

At any rate, I was very good this year, because I got two excellent gifts from my husband. The first was the Flip camera. I love that thing. It's perfect. It's small, easy, and you can take video and then capture stills from the video very easily. No memory cards, you just plug into your UBS port and it uploads. Of course, it runs on Double A batteries, and my big complaint about digital cameras is that they run through batteries very quickly, but it's okay.

Then, I got the Clarisonic Opal. If you know me, you know I'm vain. My husband knows me. It's a small gadget that has a small silicone applicator that you put their eye serum on and it sonically applies it to your undereye skin. According to studies (on their site, of course), it will get the serum further into the epidermis than without it. Looked convincing. I don't care what science has said before about cremes actually penetrating the dermis. I like it. My eye puffiness is decreasing and I am pretty sure the crow's feet are, too. Plus, I trust the company because I love my Clarisonic skin care system so much I wish I could use it all day long. Same with my toothbrush.
Two thumbs up for both products from me.

Our kids got what they wanted, my husband got what he wanted, and I think everyone was happy, all in all. I did not get inebriated at our family dinner, and I ate food. I did not crawl into anyone's bed, although I considered crawling into my brother's just to piss him off. I even brought the accursed ham and a peppermint cheesecake, both of which I made with my own two hands. Take that, world. Suck it.

Now, I'm looking for good sales so I can buy other crap. I really like Philosophy's "Falling In Love" perfume. It's rare for me to like any perfume, let alone be able to wear it and tolerate it. I can wear any of the Hermes' perfumes, and get no headache. I think the Prada Infusion d'Iris is okay, as well. And I have twice sniffed "Falling in Love", and got no signs of a headache. This leads me to believe God wishes for me to purchase it.

I also plan on getting some new boots, as I cannot go more than a couple of months without boots of some kind. I need something new to read, so I might drive to Barnes and Nobles, although that's a pain in my ass. I would like some Tom's shoes, but would rather not pay for them, to be honest. I got my hair done, so that's not an issue. Hmmmm...I'm waiting for Netflix to send me Disc Two of the last season of The Tudors. We've seen Disc One and have Disc Three, but aren't going to watch Disc three before we've seen Disc Two, for the love. How stupid. So we wait. Oh, I have another present coming from Jerusalem, my husband said. It's just taking a lot longer, (duh), and I can't wait to see what it is.

I could go grab my Mom and niece and daughter and drive to Austin to the Domain and see what damage we could do there. (Probably a lot.) My overwhelming laziness is battling my almost overpowering materialism...it's an epic struggle. I feel torn.
A mani/pedi would be nice, but again...I don't feel like screaming, "What?" and "Pardon me"? to a masked person speaking in a tonal language to someone across the room for 2 hours. Also, I am not in a mood for small talk, and they LOVE to small talk, although you can't understand them. It's so tiring. Just shut up, do my feet and let me relax.

Botox is needed, but if I do it, I fear Wally may maim me. We could go to a movie, but there are people there. They eat popcorn loudly, and slurp their sodas, plus usually there is some jackhole nearby wearing a bottle of Axe or some such shit and I end up with a headache. Thank you, ill mannered, Axe wearing Assclown.

Oh, and if you are reading this and you know how to knit socks with the 5 double pointed needles, please contact me. I cannot for the life of me handle those needles, and can't slide stitches from the cast on needle to the other needles and then don't know where to start knitting. It's making me insane. Seriously. There is a new Yarn Shop here, but it's Sunday, so I'm assuming they are closed. Otherwise, I'd go, buy whatever they wanted and beg for a lesson. I have yet to conquer that. I've made sweaters, hats, scarves, headbands, cowls, a cat bed, (yes I knit a cat bed for my niece) and other things, but no socks or gloves because I cannot use those damned double pointed needles.
I have small hands, and maybe that's the problem. They don't reach all over the place to hold those needles, I don't know, but it's driving me nuts.

If I don't come back to uselessly complain and bitch, have a great New Year!

Ne Derangez Pas

Fin

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?

Hey. Hi. Whatever. It's that time of year again. Christmas. I really am growing to dislike it. People are rude, they are everywhere you go and they are impatient. Those qualities usually belong to me exclusively, and I don't appreciate sharing them with the public at large.

Anyhow, our kids are all home from school, as am I. My son has strep throat and mine hurts. Yippee. What a great present. We have an insanely huge amount of presents under our tree and this year I got it all done way ahead of time. Yay for me.

I really don't have too much to add, but after Christmas dinner, I'm sure I will. Perhaps even photos to go along with it. Some Xanax and wine and it will be a fun day for me. I might get another snooze in on my Mom's bed like I did on Thanksgiving. That was some good sleepin'.

PLUS, I still waiting on THREE separate gifts I ordered from a company called "The Daily Grommet". I am displeased with them in the extreme. These were Christmas gifts. I got one of the missing gifts, but three are still missing. I emailed them and they assured me they were looking into it. That was after two emails. Now, no further communication. Be warned if you use the Daily Grommet, the company "Violet Love" and "Sneakart" and it seems like there was another one. I got the belt from Jon Wye, so that is okay. But the others, I'm not pleased with at all. Be warned.

I have nothing left to say, so goodnight, ya perverts. (Points if you know what book that was from. )

Happy, Merry Whatever

I know you've all been waiting anxiously for me to get around to blogging about my festive life. Sorry. Oh well.

Anyhow, I've been working on writing, working on teaching kids and just plain working on all the regular stuff everyone works on at this time of year.

I did get sorta drunk on Thanksgiving and evidently make many promises to my mother which I have no memory of. Her claims have been corroborated by both my husband and daughter. Strangely, I'm not ashamed of myself. It takes 5 Xanax and a bottle of Reisling to handle Thanksgiving with my family. Now, to pay penance, I have to bring a ham of all things to Christmas. I also took many strange pictures whilst inebriated, but perhaps I'll post those later. Most of them are very close up pictures of my Mom's walls. Why? I liked the new wall colors and wanted documentation of them so I could duplicate them at home. Problem is, when you get millimeters away from a wall, all of the colors pretty much look like a grey shadow. So there ya go.
After drunkenly careening around the house, digging my finger through the sweet potatoes and claiming the marshmallows as "MINE!", and then doing the same thing to the meringue on the chocolate pie, I evidently quietly snuck off to my Mom's room, crawled under her covers and went to sleep. Festive, no? By the word "meringue" I mean the whipped egg whites and sugar, not the dance. I'm not sure how to spell which one. Either way, I mean the egg white things.
So, there's a brief update. I've not traveled, which pisses me off royally. I've worked. I've worked and worked and worked and disgraced my family at Thanksgiving. My work here is done. For now.

Stay tuned for Christmas festivities!
Love,
The dinner guest you don't want

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