Monday, May 31, 2010

this week is going to be AWESOME

wanna know how I know?

Because I get to start tomorrow - the first day of the week - with another visit to the dentist (I have a broken filling that needs... refilling)

And if starting out a week with a mouth filled with cotton and dental instruments isn't THE BEST POSSIBLE WAY TO START A WEEK, well, I'm afraid I don't know what is.

Labels: "awesome" ends with "me"

Dear (generic) Effexor,

You were right, emotions are overrated. Can we un-break-up? I missed you.

xxoo,

me

Labels: le crazy, letter to

Sunday, May 30, 2010

Scene - typical day after school

The Kid, frowning as he hands me a report on which he spent a significant amount of time: I only got an A minus.

me: told you to use a better font than Comic Sans...


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Scene - this morning at the beach


The Kid, upon finding some tar* stuck on his foot: I'm going to die!

me: No... well, I mean, of course you are.

The Kid: WHAT?

me: Not today or anything, geez. I meant eventually. Chill out

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

how am I so terrified of spiders that I refuse to even step on them, yet, I will readily pick up a slightly waterlogged bee on the beach and carry it around until it's good to fly again?





* fortunately, I happened to find in my purse a packet of some product called Tar Off, which I had pilfered from... somewhere, and it proved to be terribly helpful.

Labels: adventures in shitty parenting

Saturday, May 29, 2010

apparently, I'm one of those people who incessantly talks about her dreams...

I might as well just let my hair grow down to my knees, buy myself an industrial-sized dream catcher and some turquoise jewelry and move out to the desert where I can wear clothes made of natural fibers.

So last night, I dreamed I was leavin' on an airplane, going on some trip that was going to take 23 days with just as many plane changes and I was going to have to change clothes every time I changed planes.

Let's just see what the internet has to say about that -

Well, I guess I can cosign most of this - I've been... thinking about some stuff lately, making some changes (okay, thinking about making changes if you want to get all semantic and shit), but for the first time in my life, I'm sort of feeling a tiny bit ambitious about something (or maybe I'm getting the flu). It's nothing I'm necessarily going to share just yet... and, no, I'm not finally running away to join the circus (that's plan B, but only because I'm worried that the tutu would make my hips look HUGE).

Labels: dream a little dream, sleep

Friday, May 28, 2010

Pro-tip for the summer

If your ass is so lazy that you throw on that cute flowered tube top so you don't have to go to the "trouble" of putting on a bra AND a shirt to go to the grocery store, try to be mindful of the properties of said tube top and the laws of gravity when you're doing stuff like reaching over your head, k?

Labels: boobs

well, I think it goes without saying...

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.
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.
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.
.
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.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Labels: just... why?

Thursday, May 27, 2010

I am 82% sure that I am the only person who would be so excited at finding a vintage laundry hamper at a thrift store that I would purchase it, bring it home, put it into my photo cube thing, take pictures of it and post it online.


but.... I gotta be me?

Labels: I take pictures, suzy fucking homemaker

those damn dreams again!

this time, I was in a grocery store picking through racks of Easter candy. I wonder what the internet could possibly have to say about that????


Whoa whoa whoa, I'm currently lacking something in my life? Shut. Up. Who would have guessed?

I never would have assumed, though, that Cadbury Eggs were what was missing. If my stupid dreams had just told me this a long time, it would have saved me lots and lots of poor decisions.

Lots and lots.

And lots.

Now if someone would just don a little fuzzy tail and tell me where to find some gooey chocolate eggs, you'll be my hero/BFF/soulmate/dearest darling pumpkinhead.

Oh, and is "nurturance" even a word?

Labels: dream a little dream, sleep

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Dear Tampax,

What the hell is wrong with your marketing department?

Do they actually believe women care how "cute" tampons are?

Do they have any idea what tampons are used for? They're not decorative. WE USE THEM FOR OUR PERIODS. If a tampon performs its basic job? Most tampon consumers are satisfied.

Please stop trying to make menstruation fashionable or hip, okay?

Thanks,

me



~~~~~~~~~~

don't click this if you're a boy, or if you're planning on having a brightly colored salad for lunch or if you've ever played with legos... no, I'm kidding, no matter who you are, you should click this. Then try to explain to me why I have small eggplants and large carrots inside of my body... and a red golf club... and... a boulder? And what is that yellow thing? Damn, I love wikipedia... and MS Paint.

Labels: letter to

in an effort to make up for way too many whine-tacular posts lately...

In case there were any question about my inability to communicate in a normal way -

Yesterday, I used the word "cocksucker" in a polite email to someone I don't know.

Labels: I'm a jackass

Bert can be so grumpy in the morning*

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

so close...

If I stand under the apricot tree whining "come ON! come ON! come ONNNNNNNNnnn!" will it help them get ripe any quicker?

Let me axe you something

Is it wrong that I would totally live in the Amityville horror house? It went up for sale yesterday. Who's up for a sleepover? And who can loan me $1.15 million bucks?



I can't believe you'd think this post was just an excuse to post this picture - how could you think I was that shallow? I'm so sure!

Monday, May 24, 2010

FYI - there are only 9 months until my birthday

so, you may want to start pony/miniature horse shopping now - I've narrowed it down to two different types (either of which will bear the name Saffron and be subjected to constant grooming from me)


either:

this cute little woolly beast, who may or may not be part yeti



or this magnificent creature - who may or may not be part *magic*

hey, remember my photo-a-day blog?

I've been doing it for 50 days - can you believe anything has held my interest that long? Shocking, right? In honor of this auspicious occasion, here's a pic of my boobs (not really... well, kind of, but it's incidental... accidental - whatever, it's a cheap ploy to make you click the link - it's going to work, isn't it? You're too easy)

Labels: boobs

Oh... dreaaaaamweaver

so, when I first started taking my crazy pills, one or two of them warned of "vivid nightmares" - I didn't get any nightmares, but I had vividly boring dreams - dreams of stuff like IMing with people or doing the dishes.

As of the last week or so, I've cut back on the cray cray meds* because I thought maybe I'd experiment with what it was like to have emotions again** and not have to remember to take anything other than a vitamin every once in a while.

In that week, I've been having the freakiest dreams, but last night was the freakiest - first, I was being chased through a series of seedy motels and government offices in LA by some serial killer guy. Then, I was walking down some road in a forest and there were bears, lots of them. Then I was hanging out with Pau Gasol in a school.

I finally decided that maybe I'm trying to tell myself something, so I turned to the internet a noted expert in dream interpretation for a little guidance -



* and the sleep meds, in spite of my torrid infatuation with zolpidem

** that experiment is going swimmingly, I've apparently got access to the whole spectrum of human emotion - who knew?

Labels: dream a little dream, le crazy, sleep

Sunday, May 23, 2010

She's allliiiiiiiivvvve!!!!!!!

Yes, my precious iBook has returned from the dead - her keyboard is a bit borked and the clicky button thing on the track pad thing is clicking kind of weird, but she has returned to me and I didn't even have to bury her in the pet cemetery, so... the world makes sense again.



*why, yes, I do own a Corpse Bride doll - I only saw the movie once and it was... cute, and I'm not a huge Tim Burton fan, but the doll is insanely cute and crazy detailed

hey, remember how I was all SQUEEEEEEEE about last weekend?

All happy and sighing for no reason?

This weekend more than made up for it.

Way.

More.

Like, made up for it plus bonus gifts with purchase.

I spent Saturday night at the Mormon compound writing sins on rocks in permanent marker.* & **

The rest of the details are... inconsequential, but let me just say that the fucking cherry on top of the ass (arse) sundae? Someone (not me) knocking a full glass of water onto my precious iBook and its brand new keyboard last night. (am currently stuck on my old busted laptop with its old busted keyboard, which is now The Kid's laptop that he rarely uses).

And, holy Christ on a pogo stick, this shit ain't over yet. If you don't hear from me within a day or so, it means that I fell off of a cliff or got eaten by a shark or got shoved into a woodchipper.


* It was for some Sunday school lesson the Mormon Avocado Farmer's Wife is teaching the kids at church - she couldn't think up enough sins, so she enlisted my help (right person for the job, no?) - and she even likes me enough to not take umbrage at my more specific suggestions like "killing a hooker and burying her in the backyard" and "drugging people to steal their organs and sell them on Craigslist" - she thought it was more appropriate to stick with stuff like "bad thoughts" and "stealing". Some people have no vision.

** The Mormon compound is about half an hour outside of town and the views are... insane - observe:
that's the view from the driveway - shut up, right?

and this is their puppy, LeBron -

tell me you don't want to eat those floppy ears!

Labels: pointless whining

Friday, May 21, 2010

I'm starting a new blog

It's going to be called "Stuff I Find On My Doorstep That Does Not Belong On My Doorstep"... or should it be "Stuff I Find On My Doorstep Which Does Not Belong On My Doorstep"?


in any case -

This week it's been 2 Jesus pamphlets, a millipede, a squished snail, a moth that looked like the Wright Brothers' airplane and this fucking hairy thing:


for reals, someone come shave that thing's legs.


Other things that do not belong on my doorstep, for the record, include:

• unexpected visitors*
• big stupid leaves from the neighbor's stupid tree
• people selling revolutionary cleaning products
• people selling meat
• people selling religion
• little girls looking for The Kid at ridiculous hours of the morning
• bags of frozen meat

Things that do belong on my doorstep include, but are not limited to:

• Ryan Reynolds
• Ryan Reynolds shirtless
• giant bouquets of fresh flowers**
• large stuffed animals festooned with bows*** 
• anyone delivering a pony (or miniature horse) named Saffron 
• the bunnies who live next door and are miraculously able to escape from anything holding them

* seriously, if you show up without calling first, I will cut you.

** no, not really - sort of cliche, don't you think? Sure, they're lovely to look at for a minute, but after that, it's all just upkeep and then the inevitable wilting

*** no, not really, what am I, 14?

Thursday, May 20, 2010

who wears short shorts?

some old guy with beef jerky-esque legs at Wal*Mart this morning, but unfortunately I wasn't quick enough with the camera to capture it - dammit. 

So here's a picture of my toes
yes, those are polka-dots. And, yes, I am a distant relative of Barney Rubble.

Labels: just... why?

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

three wishes

I wish I could put depression into words, tie it up in a neat package, bite-sized, digestible bits. It would be so much easier if I could string together some words into such a way that people would understand how sometimes I feel raw and alien in my own skin and the best thing to do is to just... be, not to treat me like I'm damaged or breakable or that I need to be kept away from sharp objects*.

I wish I could have one of those lazy days that's perfect for getting lost, one of those days where you don't necessarily have to be anywhere at any specific time and you can shut off the GPS (or put it on the Dutch setting so you can't understand a word it's saying) and just... go.

I wish I could get my money back from when I took The Kid to see "Just Wright". He had to go see it because it's about a basketball player. The part we didn't take into consideration was the cast - Queen Latifah and Common? Really? Oh, and there was the script, which was complete crap, and the storyline... Honestly, it was easily the worst movie I've seen in a long time (and I've seen "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past" and "I Know Who Killed Me").



if I had a bonus wish - like if I were the 1 millionth wishee or whatever, I'd wish I had a pony - I would call it Saffron and wash and condition its fur and braid its tail and put little bows in its mane... but that's just me being greedy.

*actually, that's probably always prudent, since I can barely make dinner without slicing open an artery - it's kind of a skill, should be on my resume... could I list myself as a blood donor, I wonder?

Labels: le crazy

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

*exaggerated eye roll*

The lesson of the day (for everyone but me)?

Learn to pick your fucking battles.



Lesson of the day for me?

Look into running away to join a circus.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Guess who installed a new keyboard all by herself

and now has unlimited access to the letter "Y" and the number "6"?



spoiler alert - it's me.



Kinda feel like a rock star right now for being able to install it all by myself... Even if the keyboard inexplicably seems to be a tiny bit too big and doesn't quite fit right... (that will teach me to buy stuff off of eBay*)

Might even go ahead and get a keyboard protector for this one so I don't have to dissect my computer again.



*let's be honest, no, it probably won't

Saturday, May 15, 2010

d00d, don't take out your poor vocational choices on me

So, I found myself on a lovely pier in lovely Santa Barbara today and panhandlers line the pier, with signs and random ploys to try to get tourist dollars. Amongst the panhandlers was a guy building a really cool sand soldier - seeing as I always carry my camera with me, I thought I'd snap a quick shot.

Dude sees me turn on my little PowerShot and points to a bucket that I hadn't even noticed hanging on the pier.

"Hey, support the arts," he snaps at me. "I do this for free. It's hard work."

He seemed to angry at me. So affronted that I wasn't recommending him for some endowment for the arts. So pissed that I wasn't tossing dollars at him like he was the prettiest girl working the pole.

Now... I've got nothing against "supporting the arts"*, and I have nothing against contributing to "starving artists", but - I'm thinking that panhandling is kind of a customer service oriented "job" and "being a total dick" doesn't seem like the best way to get donations.



*I gave him a handful of change and a couple pieces of candy I had in the pocket of my purse - clearly he needs the sugar

Friday, May 14, 2010

I think I just squicked myself out of dessert

So, The Kid plays basketball - more than just playing it, he's obsessed with it - he can rattle off the stats of pretty much an NBA or NCAA player you can name. Out of necessity, I've become a bit of a basketball fan.

My favorite NBA teams are the Lakers and the Celtics and last night, the Celtics* clinched their spot in the Eastern Conference Finals - yay, Celtics, right? Not quite in this house, as I'm the only Boston fan around here.

I was in a baking kind of mood today, having already made egg bread** and homemade granola and I decided to make a Boston Cream Pie to celebrate (and because I've never made one before). Except, after I made it, I referred to it as a "Celtic Cream Pie", which sounds like some kind of Kevin Garnett fetish website and now I don't know that I'll be able to eat any of it.

Stupid dirty mind ruining everything!


* please ignore my completely mangy hair in the pic, it was half-dry and half-unbrushed.

** but I ain't no challah-back girl...

• For the past three days, I have had a sore muscle in my right butt cheek for no apparent reason.
• My garage has, evidently, become the designated location for every potato bug in this entire state to die.

I am assuming these two facts are unrelated, but I didn't want you to go through your day without them.

If you've ever wondered exactly what it takes to make me giggle like an idiot at 7 in the morning...

the answer is simple -


a gift of 70 kazillion "y"s in an email.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

also...

My new dentist announced, halfway through my examination, that, no matter what anyone else says, I do not have a big mouth*. He even offered to write me a note stating this if I wanted proof.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
unrelated detail - after cleaning my keyboard yesterday, my "y" key and my "6" key are no longer functional. 

The fuck is that about? 

Do you have any idea what a HUGE pain in the ass (arse) it is to have to keep a "y" on the clipboard for pasting into everything? Do you have any idea how many times one uses the letter "y" in a typical paragraph/IM conversation/email? A LOT, that's how many times. And I'm a pretty quick typer (is that even a word), so it's sofa king annoying to either have to remember to stop and "apple key" + "v" while I'm trying to get a thought out. I'm seriously considering a moratorium on IM conversations until I get a new keyboard

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*granted, he did have both hands and about 17 dental instruments shoved in my piehole at that moment

sentences that could sound bad if taken out of context

"Oh, wow, your mouth is so small, I can hardly fit it in there."*

"I'm going to recommend you use a rubber-tipped massager every day."**

"If you did it more often, the skin would toughen up."***

"Do you prefer it in the morning, or later in the day?"****





* my new dentist, while trying to fit some cool digital camera contraption into the back of my head to take a look at the only one of my wisdom teeth to come in.


** the hygienist regarding some old crown I have


*** the hygienist again, regarding my reluctance to floss


**** scheduling my next cleaning

is it just me...

or do the best late night texts always begin "ok, let me preface this with the fact that I'm drunk..."

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

I had a date today

two, in fact.

Jealous?

Don't be, they were medjool dates, my landlord brought them over and they were kind of gross and now I can't get the icky taste out of my mouth*.




*please insert your own inappropriate joke here about this usually being a good ending for a date...

either Chewbacca or Robin Williams has been using my laptop

I just cleaned out the keyboard and, for reals, I could make a huge donation to Locks of Love.

ew.

Dear Precious Little iBook,

I'll admit that I initially thought your 14 inches were too big*, but I have grown to adore you so much that Republicans probably want to write legislation against it.

You are my constant companion, the apple (no pun intended) o' my eye, the vanilla nut cream in my coffee, the underwire in my bra.

You embrace and protect my music, my photography, my writing and seventy gazillion other things.

You are my direct line to the outside world and I honestly don't know what I'd do without you...

That being said, please please please please PLEASE stop making that hard-drive-failing noise you started making this morning. Not. Cool.

Please,

xxoo,

me


*that's what she said**


** yes, I just "that's what she said"-ed my own joke - I may have hit a new low

Labels: letter to

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

I've lived in this area for a bit over a year and every single day, I'm still amazed by what a beautiful place it is - and it really is - it's a gorgeous valley, filled with flowers and mountain views and stretches of open land that you wouldn't imagine exist in Southern California.

Because I'm attempting to do that picture-a-day blog thing, sometimes, I have to get out and see a bit more of this lovely place.

Today, I drove out to Pirate's Cove, which is in Avila Beach, about 20 minutes from here - half of it is a n00d beach and the other half is the most beautiful and deserted place you can imagine - all dramatic cliffs, waves, rocks, seagulls, seals and plants.

Being the practically Amish generally modest girl that I am, of course, I stuck to the non-n00d portion of the area* and it was just a spectacular as I recall - stupidly peaceful, minutes from the city, you can't hear anything but the waves crashing and the seagulls seagull-ing... if it hadn't been positively arctic, I could have stayed there forever.







oh, and apropos of nothing, gratuitous boob shot in one of my new t-shirts




*because it's a well-known nekkid beach, it's also known for having lots of... voyeurs (apparently, every year there is at least one story of a skeeve with binoculars falling off of a cliff because he's trying to check out the n00dists). Other than my precious Honda Element, every car in the parking area contained a slouched down, single guy, staring hopefully at every other car driving up in case it was a girl going to the nudie area - aside from the fact that it was super cold and windy and no one was going to be flashing their bits in that weather, have these guys never heard of the internet? Boobs-ahoy all from the comfort of your own laptop!

Labels: boobs, I take pictures

pop quiz

the best way to tell whether or not your straightening iron is hot is:

a) look at the little flashing green light that indicates it's hot

b) hold your hand near it

c) stick your hand right into its molten hot alligator jaws


if you're a normal person, you probably picked a or b. If you're me, of course, you selected c, because you're an idiot.




and, I know, I know, I'm a hermit, no one is looking at my hair, but my new shampoo makes it so soft that I'm always petting it and it's even more pettable when it's straight.

Monday, May 10, 2010

OMG YAY!!!!

I love love love love love getting mail - I mean, emails and texts are cool, but tangible, delivered mail, something to hold in your hands? It's like Christmas* - especially when said mail is a package and that package contains new clothes**.

Yay for new t-shirts - thanks again, Jennifer!


(pics forthcoming, but not today as I have on no makeup and my hair is positively Bon Jovi video-esque)


*it really does take so little to make me squee with joy

** especially especially when those new clothes make my boobs look great!

Labels: boobs

Sunday, May 09, 2010

Being unemployed is kind of like being at summer camp - arts and crafts during the day, staying up late telling ghost stories, crappy food, sing-a-longs, serial killer lurking outside the window...

okay, maybe it's not really anything like summer camp, but I do seem to spend an awful lot of time on the arts and craft portion of my day - whether it's writing, experimenting in the kitchen, painting, doing doll stuff, taking pictures or, my newest obsession, embroidery.

I know, I know, embroidery is the crap your grandma does on handkerchiefs and pillowcases, right? But it's not just for senior citizens anymore. After seeing all the amazing stuff that local girl, Shannon, does (seriously, check out her etsy) I thought I would give it a shot - of course, I couldn't start with something easy like a tea towel, I decided to jump right in and customize a plain purse I got a while back - this turned problematic since you have to iron on the design prior to the embroidery and the purse was a bit too dark to see it, so I sort of had to freehand the design (and I'm not so good with the drawing)

In any case, this is what happened:

Yeah, it's a frog - I don't know, frogs are kind of cool and I thought the frog pattern was kind of cool - the pattern thing was different frogs for every day of the week and I was born on a Tuesday, so... there.

The point of this story is... I don't know - I have too much spare time. And now I have a frog purse. And a blister on my thumb.

Labels: suzy fucking homemaker

Hey, I'm sensitive, fucker.

that is all.

Friday, May 07, 2010

When you first meet someone, you look for what you've got in common, so you've got that foundation for whatever relationship you're going to have -

"OMG, you like cilantro???? Me, too!!!"
"You sleep with your feet sticking out from under the covers? Same here!"
"You got a tattoo the day you turned 18 just because you could? Ditto!"

Then, once you've established that you've got enough similarities with this person to sustain more than a couple of chats, you start looking for the differences, so you've got something else to talk about -

"You like Frankenberry? That's so weird, because Booberry is clearly the superior Monster Cereal."
"You watch 'Survivor'? I didn't think that show was still on! Or that anyone but my mom watched it!"
"You don't eat red meat? Are you even aware of how delicious it is?"

Then, once you've decided that their surface quirks might be kind of endearing and you might actually want a friend-lationship with this person, you turn out your pockets, give them a glimpse of your damage and look for the cracks in their hard candy coating.

Sometimes you find out their damage is supremely fucked up, like raised-by-wolves fucked up.

Sometimes you find out that their damage isn't so bad, like raised-by-Bradys not so bad.

And sometimes you find out that their damage aligns way too closely with yours, like matching-freckles-between-your-toes aligned. Whether it's nature or nurture or a fluke of genetics, somehow this person has ended up with the other half of your life's BFF necklace. And, at first, you think it might be a soul-mate-y kind of thing, like you've finally found that last puzzle piece between the couch cushions... but when that shock and awe wears off (after about ten minutes) you really, deep down in your soul, finally understand why other people would describe you as a pain in the ass.

And then if you make it through that whole gauntlet without wanting to push that person into an elevator shaft, you still have to worry about whether or not he or she likes you back.

Sometimes it seems like we could save so much time if it didn't look totally desperate were socially acceptable to pass notes

Labels: what about your friends

oh em gee!!!!!

Do you even KNOW what today is?


It's National (International?) No Pants Day*!!!!

Personally, I celebrate a lack of pants all year long, but if you're one of those traditional types, today is the day!



*It's also Children's Mental Health Awareness Day... Coincidence?

Thursday, May 06, 2010

Dear Ovaries -

Please stop squooshing and/or doing the electric slide every time we see a cute baby or toddler, it's getting annoying.

And we won't even go in to how I thought you were going to explode today when faced with that absolutely precious red-haired baby and her adorably freckled big brothers.


Thanks a bunch!

xxoo,

me

Labels: letter to, note to self

You know how they say absence makes the heart grow fonder?

It's so true -

I spent half the day* yesterday cleaning my house - not just tidying, real cleaning - Mr. Clean Magic Eraser-ing, scrubbing, cleaning the baseboards, vacuuming cobwebs, moving small appliances and cleaning underneath, dusting the DVDs, burning scented tealights - and you know what I found out?

I like my house so much better when it's clean.

Quite the revelation, right?

I wonder how much other stuff I would miss if I took a hiatus from it - I definitely missed shampoo when I stopped using it. I missed coffee when I stopped drinking it for two weeks last year. I missed eating meat when I was a vegetarian. I miss sweaters in the summer time.

But then there's some stuff I like, but don't really notice when its gone - like the smell of bubble bath or barbecued hot dogs or fresh apricots.

How would I feel if I turned off my cell phone? Or disconnected from the internet? Or put away my precious iBook? Or ran away and joined the circus?



*gross exaggeration

Wednesday, May 05, 2010

What is it about underwear shopping that makes a day infinitely better*? Browsed cute panties, checked out some adorable pajamas**, found and bought a cute enough*** bra - it just... put me in a lovely mood.

Oh, and to the cashier at the grocery store who didn't even consider carding me for the beer? Thanks for keeping my ego in check, I appreciate it. And I'll take that gallon jug of Oil of Olay, too, thankyouverymuch.




* could also be the Mexican beer I've been imbibing in honor of whatever holiday it's supposed to be today. Who am I to question a mood like this on a lovely Southern California day? Yay beer!

** pajamas are about as close to lingerie as I get

*** it's not on the same level of cute as the bras they make for girls with A-cups, but I think it's about as cute as I can get without venturing into trashy whore territory. Wanna see it? Here's a pic.

Tuesday, May 04, 2010

on how many levels can I be offensive today?

(if you celebrate it, that is. If not, come back on Siete de Ketchup or Nueve de Relish and we'll try it again)

just for clarification*

I thought the t-shirt thing was the most awesome thing ever** - totally didn't think you were creepy or a stalker.

The challenge is that I'm kind of a jackass and I always worry about coming off like an ungrateful jerk when people do unexpected things to/for me... I was uncomfortable with my response, not with the original action.

For serious, it was extremely cool of you. Thanks. (I mean it)


* back story - yesterday, completely out of the blue, someone sent me a gift certificate for my fave t-shirt site... and I normally would have sent a super gushy email in response, but it was just signed "your buddy, Jennifer" - no email address or anything - and, like everyone else on the planet, I know about fifty billion girls named Jennifer. And because I had no way to contact my new BFF, I had to post here and, surprise surprise surprise, my post came off as jack-assy. Proving, once again, I will always say the wrong thing.

**this isn't to say that I wouldn't appreciate n00dz or weird shit also.

Labels: what about your friends

"If Shakespeare were alive today, I guarantee you he would be writing about shit like this."

- I am super eloquent when I wake up from my mid-day nap (and, no, I wasn't referring to my own writing as Shakespearean in any way, shape, or form).


Also - today was the first day ever when I thought that my life would be so much easier if I owned a Slap-Chop. I wonder if that means anything

Dear My "Buddy Jennifer" (whomever you may be)

Thanks.

I don't get surprised very often and I'm totally not comfortable with this kind of stuff, but... thanks, k?

Labels: letter to

Monday, May 03, 2010

Anatomy of a phone call

Me (thinking): hey, I haven't talked to [someone] in a while, maybe I'll give him/her* a call.

Commence ten minute search for my phone which is usually at the bottom of my purse next to a lug wrench, a remote control for a tv I don't think I even have anymore and a couple furry cough drops.

Then I have to scroll through the Missed Calls on my phone, because adding someone to the contact list is such a task, amirite?

Finally locate the phone number and my finger hovers over the Send button. I calculate how much free time I've got to devote to the conversation and whether or not I really want to make the call...

Fuck it, I decide. I've come this far.

One ring.

Two rings.

Please let it go to voicemail.

Three rings.

Voicemail! Voicemail! Voicemail!

Four rings.

Voicemail clicks on.

Thank GOSH, voicemail!... Hey, wait, what the hell? It didn't go straight to voicemail... which means that the phone is on and I got sent to voicemail. Oh, great, [someone] just didn't want to talk to me... And I can't hang up, because he/she already knows I called. So now I have to leave a voicemail. Crap.

"Hey, [someone], haven't talked to you in a while, just wanted to call and say 'hi'... so... hi! Hope you had a good [recent event]... Shoot, I really hate leaving voicemails... I'm sure you're wondering why, since I'm soooooo good at them, right?... Um... I guess I didn't really... you know... have a whole lot else to say... Okay... Well, I guess... I'll talk to you later... or something... so... bye."

Cue phone being shut and tossed across the room.



*no, I don't know the gender of many of my friends, I'm not really into details

Labels: what about your friends

Not positive that this bodes well for the rest of the week...

Today, I dropped a heavy wooden drawer on my foot and set a half-gallon of milk on fire.

needs and wants and won tons *updated*

a new area rug for the living room
some won ton wrappers
a needle and some thread
some spoons
a trip to Vegas
a trip to Ikea
a few days in New York
some new running shoes
a new camera
a cute white bra
someone to make me pancakes
some socks that match
some new music
a couple new ideas
to repaint my toenails
to remember to take my cray cray meds on a regular basis
to remember to water my plants once in a while
a shower
a t-shirt with a unicorn on it

Sunday, May 02, 2010

well, that does it

I'm 97.7% positive that every single movie that has been made in my lifetime (with the possible exception of "Howard the Duck"*) has been remade within the past five years.






*And if someone remakes that effing movie, I swear, I'm going to rent a convertible and drive off of a cliff.

Saturday, May 01, 2010

And I wonder why I don't have more friends*...

At a recent basketball function (which I am, of course, required to attend because I'm the "Team Mom" and it's either putting in occasional appearances or getting that layered mom haircut, wearing mom jeans and covering up my tattoos all the time), one of the dads strikes up a conversation with me.

At first he seems like a nice enough guy, we talk about the team, we talk about the NBA, we talk about the kids, blah blah blah. Then he starts in on the anti-Obama, anti-healthcare-reform, total Republican propaganda**.

My eyes start to roll back into my head as I'm wondering how we got there and how soon I can get a ticket out of there.

The Kid ambles up just as the guy is starting in on a rant about some recent news story how the local prison will be releasing a bunch of inmates early (and somehow he's making this Obama's fault).

"Cool," The Kid pipes up. "I can finally meet my penpal."

I snort because I kind of wish I'd thought of it first.

The dad is nonplussed. He looks from The Kid to me. "Seriously?"

Recognizing my out, I nod. "Oh, yeah, they've been writing for about a year."

"Seriously?"

"It's a school-sponsored thing, Konvicts for Kids, I think it's called, right, Kiddo? Konvicts with a 'K'?"

The Kid nods.

"It supposed to be a good experience for both sides, they're supposed to influence each other." I turn to The Kid. "Is Jeff supposed to be getting out early?"

The Kid nods.

"Do you think he's going to need a place to stay? Should we start cleaning out the back bedroom?"

Almost immediately thereafter, the dad excused himself to "make an important phone call".

Countdown to me being fired from the Team Mom position begins... now.

*no, not really

** who starts in on a conversation like that with someone they've just met???? Know your audience, Dude.

Labels: what about your friends