Twi-Hard

That's what they call people who likey the twilight books/movies - twihards.

I'm going tomorrow with two chicklets from work. We bought our tickets already. I'm very excited. If you aren't with me on this then you're against me and I will take you down. Any negative commentary will be met with hostility.

Miley concert was fun. I had no expectations. We had floor seats which turned out to be something I never want again when bringing little people along. Parents had kids on their shoulders making it difficult to see regardless of what row you were in. The kids got t-shirts and light sticks...I was struck with a light stick numerous times. Only once was it my own child. There were some teenagers standing on chairs. I knocked them down because that is obnoxious and rude.

Okay, I didn't... But WHO raised them? There are little people standing behind you. Skanks.

Thanksgiving this Thursday. I have my bird, as you know... I am well prepared. I will watch my parade and stuff myself then suffer through hours of football.

Saturday I'm going to cut down my own tree. First time ever. I expect complications.

All cuz I'm cheap

T-3 days to the Miley Cyrus concert. You wish you were me.

I went through the circular over the weekend. I was trying to be thrifty. I saw that three different grocery stores were offering my favorite free turkey promotion. Spend a certain amount, get a free cluck-cluck. I carefully choose my store, make a list, and head out. I shop, I calculate - I spend the desired amount and choose my prize. I make sure it's a heavy bitch, too.

I roll up to the check out. I load up my thanksgiving feast and food for the week. As she scans the items I see them adding up to the goal and I'm proud of myself for mentally adding properly. Lastly, she scans the giant cluck-cluck. I wait to see her punch in the code so that it will magically come off...FREE TURKEY...it should say. Nothing happens. She says, "147.56 please."

...

Um, did you take the free turkey off? I asked innocently, knowing the bitch didn't.

She says, "That promotion doesn't start until tomorrow."

I just...I don't...I can't even...when I plan something and I get all excited and it revolves around food and someone breaks my little heart like this...complete devastation.

Do I make her void the order and put everything back? NO. Mortified. Do I just buy it all and try to shop and spend the same amount later on in the week again to get the turkey later? NO.

She must have seen the smoke from my brain working so hard (or the tears)...she gave me the turkey anyway.

I'm quite pathetic.

Also, the girl told me I have a little belly like the Grinch yesterday. Cake topper.

More of them...

When the girl was first born I didn't work full time. I stayed home with her mostly, raising her to be the cutie-patootie smart-ass she is today. Cook, clean, play with baby, go for a walk maybe, clean more...clean clean clean...soon you stop wearing make up because there's no one to see. You stop blow drying your hair each morning for the same reason. You wear comfortable sweats or jeans with a sweatshirt and sneakers everyday because...well...who are you impressing? You're a mom and this is the mom uniform.

When the girl was 2.5 I went to work full time, corporate style. Pencil skirt, woven shirt, stilettos, make up, blown out hair...

I like this version of me. It's the pretty me.

I'm still a mom. I still clean, cook, play with the girl. I still do mom things. I just don't wear the mom uniform anymore.

On the rare occasion that I can go pick up the girl from school, meaning, she does not take the bus to her afterschool program, I get to see the other moms. They are all in the mom uniform. All of them. ALL of them. None have converted, like me. I'm an alien. An outcast. A WITCH! They stare down at me...in their house coats...their sweatshirts that are holiday themed if a holiday is near. They hate me. They won't even talk to me. I used to be one of you...bitches. I stand alone.

Girl joined girlscouts. She is a Daisy. It was cut throat to get her in. I nearly had to sell my soul to the girlscout leader herself. Met all the other moms at the Halloween party last week, eager to make friends...guess what?

Curlers. Housecoats. Sweatshirts. Mom jeans. Keds. KEDS!

I tried to talk to each little group but they'd find a way to break away one by one and reconvene elsewhere, far from me. For real. It's like a peanuts cartoon and I'm pigpen...no one can stand to be near me.

Damn Dirty Turkey

So, with Thanksgiving upon us, TexAss friend's son has a turkey project due. We are back and forth about what should be done for the project. The teacher is harrassing her about it. Irritating. Projects for 6 year olds are just fucking irritating because they are really parent projects anyway. The kids just sit there, color a thing or two and write their names on it. It's all us...

Texas: seriously i just got an email from the teacher over damn turkey.

Me: roast that bitch a 20 lb turkey
leave the head on

Texas: heeeee.
the neck. omg. those are so nasty. wtf is it in there for?

Me: UNKNOWN

Texas: is it for you guineas?

Me: AHAHAHAHAHA
I want a turkey with no giblets

Texas: remember the first turkey you ever pulled one out of?

Me: YES i left them in

Texas: like seriously a WHAT THE FUCK moment.

Me: didnt know they were in there
i pulled out cooked giblets

Texas: in plastic?

Me: wax paper i think

Texas: my mom left one in but it was naked.
course she also put foil in the microwave. a chef she was not.
people use giblets but necks. neck soup! lol.

Me: EW
i dont even know what all the parts are
the neck looks like some poor mans penis part to me

Texas: man you've been fucking some odd shapes.

Me: come on, a little?
okay forget it

Texas: i'm never making another turkey.
Blow jobs are bad enough.