All is right with the world. My work is done for this semester and I'm leaving for Florida on Tuesday. With the exception of this pesky swine flu I'm feeling good.
Drove to work today because I'm afraid someone will cough on me on the subway. I'm not afraid of getting the swine flu. As a matter of fact, I assume I will get it at some point. Either the girl will bring it home with her from school or some asshole on the subway will hack flu all over me. I just don't want it until I get back from vacation so I'm paying $18 a day to park in Manhattan today and tomorrow. I'm not trying to fight my luck, just postpone it. That's allowed, right? Cheating the system...
My cousin is coming from California with his girlfriend. They are staying with me for 4 days. I thought I was just the hotel but it turns out I am also the entertainment and tour guide. I took off Friday and now I have to decide what to do with these people.
I tried to pack for Florida. I can't. I need all the things that I have to pack. I bought the girl new summer clothes for the trip and packed them. She unpacked them because it was 90 degrees here the past few days. Back to square one.
She keeps fighting me on clothes. Yesterday we had the biggest argument because she didn't want to wear a tank top. Her arms will show, she says. Have you ever heard of anything more ridiculous in your life? MY kid is Mrs. Megaprude? Seriously? I blame the man. He is forever telling me my tits are hanging out...I bet she is self-conscious about clothes because of him.
He's not coming to FL with us. I'm so back and forth on my feelings about this. I want him there, but he clearly doesn't want to come. Same old song. He complains daily about everything. We are clearly not on the same page. Maybe we need a vacation from each other, too. Then he'll have a chance to miss me. Watching the girl all by myself will be fun. Of course I can handle it. But it's just like watching a second purse full of cash...can't let it out of your sight. Also, I fear she may annoy me. Hopefully she won't annoy me much until day 7, but what happens if she does on day 2? Then what? Yeah, yeah...you think I'm a bad mom. YOU TRY IT.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Couple things...
I'm so cranky today. My back hurts and I don't feel well. I probably have mono or the avian flu (or a cold).
I keep finding celebrities with my droopy eye issue...Katie Holmes and Eliza Dushku are prime examples. They are PRETTY with these eyes though. How do they make this happen? I can't figure it out. I need a professional to do my make up - show me where I'm going wrong here. The professional will probably tell me that I need a plastic surgeon, not a make-up artist...
My best friend wished me to get pregnant 7 or so years ago. She wished it every day. I got pregnant. She is wishing it again and my instinct is to maim her in some way...but the jail time isn't quite worth it.
My boobs are all weird today, too. I want a job working for Victoria's Secret...because I have a secret. My boobs lost their consistency when a vampire-like demon spawn (read: baby) sucked the ever-loving life out of them. They've lost density and therefor are lifeless, shapeless boobs that have to be poured into my bra. The bra, you see, acts as somewhat of a jello mold. Once the boob is set in said mold, I can walk out into public without A. Having them bounce off my knees when I walk or B. Having them knock me unconscious if I walk down the stairs just a tad too quickly. Victoria's Secret is close to what I (and I am sure countless other Mom's who've subjected themselves to granny Playtex bras) need, but they aren't quite there. Hire me, you perky boobed bitches (or know-nothing men).
Men created OB tampons, too. You know, the kind without the applicator? If you are accustomed to shoving shit up there, this shouldn't be too hard...but for me it is a bit more invasive than I'd like for an operation that takes place several times a day for a week. My mother, the dear, handed me a fucking OB tampon when we were in Florida on vacation once. I was 12 and had probably had my "." for a total of 6 times in my life. I wanted to swim on my vacation and she handed me this...with no instruction whatsoever other than, "Just shove it up there." So, I trot into the bathroom happily because I have a remedy for "being benched" while everyone else got to go in the pool. I shove it up there, as directed, and though I was told I "wouldn't even know it was there" I knew it. Walked out...stepped into the water...and nearly half the pool absorbed right into the damn thing. So, I clearly didn't shove it up there far enough... I ran out. Didn't get to swim. To this day I will not buy OB even though I am now a seasoned tampon user.
I keep finding celebrities with my droopy eye issue...Katie Holmes and Eliza Dushku are prime examples. They are PRETTY with these eyes though. How do they make this happen? I can't figure it out. I need a professional to do my make up - show me where I'm going wrong here. The professional will probably tell me that I need a plastic surgeon, not a make-up artist...
My best friend wished me to get pregnant 7 or so years ago. She wished it every day. I got pregnant. She is wishing it again and my instinct is to maim her in some way...but the jail time isn't quite worth it.
My boobs are all weird today, too. I want a job working for Victoria's Secret...because I have a secret. My boobs lost their consistency when a vampire-like demon spawn (read: baby) sucked the ever-loving life out of them. They've lost density and therefor are lifeless, shapeless boobs that have to be poured into my bra. The bra, you see, acts as somewhat of a jello mold. Once the boob is set in said mold, I can walk out into public without A. Having them bounce off my knees when I walk or B. Having them knock me unconscious if I walk down the stairs just a tad too quickly. Victoria's Secret is close to what I (and I am sure countless other Mom's who've subjected themselves to granny Playtex bras) need, but they aren't quite there. Hire me, you perky boobed bitches (or know-nothing men).
Men created OB tampons, too. You know, the kind without the applicator? If you are accustomed to shoving shit up there, this shouldn't be too hard...but for me it is a bit more invasive than I'd like for an operation that takes place several times a day for a week. My mother, the dear, handed me a fucking OB tampon when we were in Florida on vacation once. I was 12 and had probably had my "." for a total of 6 times in my life. I wanted to swim on my vacation and she handed me this...with no instruction whatsoever other than, "Just shove it up there." So, I trot into the bathroom happily because I have a remedy for "being benched" while everyone else got to go in the pool. I shove it up there, as directed, and though I was told I "wouldn't even know it was there" I knew it. Walked out...stepped into the water...and nearly half the pool absorbed right into the damn thing. So, I clearly didn't shove it up there far enough... I ran out. Didn't get to swim. To this day I will not buy OB even though I am now a seasoned tampon user.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Easter
I have to put together the girl's easter basket at some point. I have the Easter crap, the basket, the grass...it's the assembly that will be put off until Saturday night - much like how her Christmas presents get wrapped mere hours before she unwraps them.
I'm not religious, but I like the holidays because they give me a chance to make a day special for the girl. You know how that excites me. I haven't believed in God since the 5th grade and truthfully, the girl just found out who God was this year because of the man. Yes, the man decided to give my child religious beliefs. I'm not allowed to be mad at him for that, he says.
Girl: Mom, did you know that God created everything around us?
Me: I didn't know.
Girl: It's true, that building, that person...that squirrel...God created EVERYTHING.
Me: I think construction workers created the building...
Girl: NO!
Me: Listen woman, we live in a country where it is okay to believe whatever you want to believe. So if that is what you believe, I am fine with it.
Girl: Do you believe it?
Me: No.
Girl: Can't you just believe the same as me Mom?!?!
Me: Fine...I believe God mixed cement and stacked brick for that building...
Girl: Thanks, Mom.
Later, in another one of her startling revelations, she told me the Easter bunny wasn't real. (Just in case you're taking notes, God is in, Easter bunny - out.) Apparently, she says bunnies are not that big and so clearly the Easter bunny is just a man in a bunny suit that breaks into your house to hide chocolate and eggs. This is not disturbing to her in any way whatsoever.
I'm not religious, but I like the holidays because they give me a chance to make a day special for the girl. You know how that excites me. I haven't believed in God since the 5th grade and truthfully, the girl just found out who God was this year because of the man. Yes, the man decided to give my child religious beliefs. I'm not allowed to be mad at him for that, he says.
Girl: Mom, did you know that God created everything around us?
Me: I didn't know.
Girl: It's true, that building, that person...that squirrel...God created EVERYTHING.
Me: I think construction workers created the building...
Girl: NO!
Me: Listen woman, we live in a country where it is okay to believe whatever you want to believe. So if that is what you believe, I am fine with it.
Girl: Do you believe it?
Me: No.
Girl: Can't you just believe the same as me Mom?!?!
Me: Fine...I believe God mixed cement and stacked brick for that building...
Girl: Thanks, Mom.
Later, in another one of her startling revelations, she told me the Easter bunny wasn't real. (Just in case you're taking notes, God is in, Easter bunny - out.) Apparently, she says bunnies are not that big and so clearly the Easter bunny is just a man in a bunny suit that breaks into your house to hide chocolate and eggs. This is not disturbing to her in any way whatsoever.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Happy Days
There's this kid I work with...I hate him. Not because he's a bad person, but because EVERYTHING works out for him ALWAYS.
This, my friends, is a true story.
1. He is beyond late every single day for work. He shows up at lunch and people greet him with a smile.
2. He lies, gets caught, and somehow walks away smiling.
3. He makes people angry, they wait for him to show up so they can yell at him, he walks in, there is yelling for 3 seconds and by the time he walks out he is smiling, and they are thanking him for his time.
4. He just dropped his salad bowl, it landed face up and nothing fell out.
5. He finds/receives free stuff regularly.
6. He wins crap. Always.
7. Girls like him. (Not me.)
8. He is a dork, yet gets laid regularly (against all odds.)
9. He thinks everyday is a great day.
10. He does whatever he wants, whenever he wants, without a care in the world, and there are no consequences for this.
I wish, at the very least, a bird would poop on him. Do you know that I have been shat on by a bird FOUR times in my life? They say that is LUCKY. I say it's SHIT. Shit, that is ON me... I am the epitomy of Murphy's Law...they should rename it after me. If I'm going on vacation, it rains, everyday. If I need to be on time, there's traffic, my car breaks down and mysteriously my phone is also dead. If there isn't a toilet in a 20 mile radius, I have to pee. If I want a shower, there's no hot water. If I need to not be pregnant, I'm pregnant. This is my life and people aren't even surprised anymore when shit happens to me - or on me, for that matter. Bleh.
This, my friends, is a true story.
1. He is beyond late every single day for work. He shows up at lunch and people greet him with a smile.
2. He lies, gets caught, and somehow walks away smiling.
3. He makes people angry, they wait for him to show up so they can yell at him, he walks in, there is yelling for 3 seconds and by the time he walks out he is smiling, and they are thanking him for his time.
4. He just dropped his salad bowl, it landed face up and nothing fell out.
5. He finds/receives free stuff regularly.
6. He wins crap. Always.
7. Girls like him. (Not me.)
8. He is a dork, yet gets laid regularly (against all odds.)
9. He thinks everyday is a great day.
10. He does whatever he wants, whenever he wants, without a care in the world, and there are no consequences for this.
I wish, at the very least, a bird would poop on him. Do you know that I have been shat on by a bird FOUR times in my life? They say that is LUCKY. I say it's SHIT. Shit, that is ON me... I am the epitomy of Murphy's Law...they should rename it after me. If I'm going on vacation, it rains, everyday. If I need to be on time, there's traffic, my car breaks down and mysteriously my phone is also dead. If there isn't a toilet in a 20 mile radius, I have to pee. If I want a shower, there's no hot water. If I need to not be pregnant, I'm pregnant. This is my life and people aren't even surprised anymore when shit happens to me - or on me, for that matter. Bleh.
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