Thanksgiving Express

The girl keeps saying everyone is trying to fast forward through Thanksgiving, straight to Christmas. She's right.

We went to the North Pole Express (kinda like the Polar Express, but without Tom Hanks) and it was really cute.

We got there way too early. When googlemaps estimated a 2.5 hour drive we expected 3+, but it really was 2 hours and 15 minutes.

We get out and look at the train. It's adorable. Then we look for a person, anyone. We find a girl. She was dirty. Like really dirty. Like actual dirt on her. Like dirt from 3 weeks ago. She scared us. She told us her grandpa knew about the town and could tell us where to go. We found grandpa. His shirt was stained and he had a dirty sweater on. He also had on two different shoes. My man is now staring at me with the, "WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU TAKE US THIS TIME?" look.

Anyway, we went exploring.

We stopped at a gas station. The people were scary and the name of the truck stop was "Porky's Pork and Stuff." One of the natives approached the man while he pumped gas. I locked the doors. We all lived though.

We found a farm that had actual sheep on it. (This is cool for us) then we saw a sign that said the town was established in like, 1697 or something and we thought to ourselves much hasn't happened since.

Anyway, we board the train. It's cute. It has living room chairs that swivel. The girl likes this. We find out they serve alcohol on the train. We are feeling better. There is our own personal elf who narrates the ride for us - and she sings. AND she plays the Ukelele. Ukelele is probably better when you are drunk...so now I know why they provide the booze.

Well, Santa and Mrs. Claus came and all the kids were happy. Santa gave my girl a small red bell. They had hot cocoa and sugar cookies. All in all, good experience. Would I do it again? No. It's one of those, only need to see it once, type of deals. So, I'm good.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

'

Guilty Halloweenie

For the first time in my mothering career I sent STORE BOUGHT brownies into class for the girl's Halloween party. I'm ashamed of myself. Guilty even...

Last night I received a $200.00 gift card that I shouldn't have received. It was from a company that tried to dick me over and not reimburse me money I deserved. But, I was already reimbursed - and now, in addition, I have this gift card. More guilt...

It's Italian Catholic Guilt. ICG...I have it. Most of us guineas born to recent OTB (off the boat) Italians have this guilt. While you are being raised they put the fear of "burning eternally in hell" into you. You know what? I'm not much of a believer in burning eternally in hell, or living happily ever after in heaven. But, I've been so conditioned to do the right thing that it's impossible for me not to feel guilt.

I'm like the mouse that gets electrocuted every time it goes for the cheese. I know damn well that cheese doesn't cause electrocution, but every time I see cheese I fear it anyway.

Completely illogical.

Because of the ICG it's also nearly impossible for me to lie. My face gets red, I laugh and I can't even look you in the eye when I try. Not to mention my lies are...let's say...less than intelligently thought out.

Lie: "I didn't eat the last cookie!"

Failure: (cookie crumbs are visible on mouth, chocolate left on teeth and I had previously announced that I was eating a delicious cookie.)

'

Fat again

I'm fat again because I gained some fat back.

I won't claim that I have "no idea how this fat happened." I won't sue Entenmann's either...as much as I feel those bastards deserve it. Why is that coffee cake so good? And have you had the coffee cake donut!? Dunkin Donuts had a hand in it as well. That damn coffee coolata has crack in it FOR SURE.

Fuck it all...

I'm a fat girl on the inside. If I had my way I'd be that obese woman who has to be lifted off the bed with a crane. I really would. So, yes, I gained some weight. But, truthfully, it could be a hell of a lot worse.

I am trying to stick with the diet until Thanksgiving.

If my posts are grumpy and numerous until then, you will know I have stuck with it.

If I am M.I.A. or in a really good mood, then that means I have failed and am eating like the chubby bitch that my heart tells me I am.

Question: How come sometimes I don't care if I'm fat?

Sometimes, I'm like WHO CARES I'd rather eat Doritos dipped in sour cream (seriously, try it...the nacho cheese ones) than be thin.

Other times, I'm like, YOU ARE FUCKING DISGUSTING YOU COW HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN!? Then I get all miserable and don't even want to bang my boyfriend because I get all self conscious about my fatness.

Right now, I am the later.

Cancel

I won't lie. Sometimes I cancel plans. Sometimes I don't feel like it.

But, I have the courtesy to cancel and say, "Sorry, I'm just not feeling up to it today." "Not feeling well." "Let's reschedule..."

I do not say, "Hey, I found something else I'd rather do so I'm cancelling." "And after this text I will shut my phone off because I don't want to hear your rebuttal."

You know what? Be more creative.

Tell me you sliced your hand open and have to go to the ER.

Tell me you contracted ebola.

Tell me your house was obliterated in a tornado.

Tell me your cat died.

LIE TO ME. I deserve a lie at least.


Also, I am dieting again. That may or may not have to do with my grumpiness.


Man and I argued.
Then I shopped.
Man and I made up.
Shoppers remorse.

What else is new?

I'm THAT Mom.

Why does homework time have to be such a bitch?

Everyday, never fails, the girl has homework. Why is she all surprised and whiney about having to do it?

She doesn't want to show up without it. She's too scared to do such a thing. So it's going to get done one way or another. But why does it have to get done like this?

Her: Can I take a shower?

Me: Homework first.

Her: Fiiiiiiiinnnnnnnneeeeee.

Me: cooking dinner, cleaning, whatever

5 minutes later...

Her: "I throw mah hands up in the air sometimes - singin AAAAYYY ooooo baby LET'sss go. I wanna celebrate and live my life...."

Me: That's not homework. That's singing. Stop singing.

7 minutes later...

Her: *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap*

Me: Stop that! Stop flicking my vase with the pencil! DO YOUR HOMEWORK!

4 minutes later...

Her: *silence*

Me: WHERE ARE YOU?!

Her: I had to go to the bathroom!

Me: You went when we got home!!!!!!! I DONT WANT TO WATCH YOU DO HOMEWORK UNTIL 10:00 AT NIGHT!!!!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME GIRL!?

...

Then this morning, I find a worksheet not done in her folder. So while she shoves cheerios into her mouth she has to circle nouns and underline verbs.

Then I drop her off and say, "Do you have a spelling test today?? We didn't study!!!"

She says she knows the words.

I am now hanging out of the car window screaming:

"SPELL FOURTH!!! SPELL BREAKFAST!!! SPELL SYRUP!!!!!!!!"

I'm THAT mom.

RIP Tooth Fairy

So, yesterday the girl comes home with grumpy all over her face. I ignore...

I surprise her with costume shopping. She doesn't find the costume she wants so the grumpiness amplifies.

I tell her I have to get my hair cut because I look like Morticia Addams...while sitting and waiting for my turn, she asks me:

"Mom, are you the tooth fairy?"

...(enter mine field)

Me: Why do you ask?

Her: Jeffrey (asian kid in her class) told me there's no toothfairy. That it's the parents.

I carefully navigate my way through the mine field. I decide to take the path of truth because she outright asked if it was me.

Me: My parents did it for me and I thought it was fun so I did it for you, too.

KABOOM!

Her: (look of disbelief + horror + betrayal)

Me: I can still give you money! (guilt) Or presents! How about presents? (major guilt)

At this point in time I have completely lost any rational parenting skills I may have possessed.

Her: It's not fair. Now I have nothing to look forward to when I lose my teeth.

Me: ...presents? ANYTHING YOU WANT?! How can I make this better for you?

Her: (Grumpy squared + Sadness and possible tears)

Me: What if I punch this kid Jeffrey in the throat?


I texted all my friends about the situation. The feedback was diverse...

"Aww, CALL HIS MOTHER!"
Taken into consideration.

"Ok. So?"
Slap my man across the face for being a heartless bastard.

"She was going to find out sooner or later...kids will start to make fun of her if she still believes. Start prepping for the Santa talk."
I hate realists.

"Tell her the tooth fairy is only for white kids. That's why his mom has to do it for him. She'll learn racism eventually."
Considered...but, denied.

'

Me + Pets = DEATH

Once upon a time there was a girl who won a goldfish at a fair. Her mother bought her a bowl, gravel, food and all the lovely things a little 25 cent goldfish could want. Mere days after the fish's arrival, he jumped out of the bowl and plummeted to his death.

A year or so later the girl asked her mother for a hamster. The mother obliged believing the whole fish incident was a fluke. The hamster gets dropped by the girl. The hamster has issues. The stupid mother spends hundreds of dollars on vet visits hoping to save the hamster - fail. The mother has spent much money on hamster accessories and agrees to give the whole hamster deal a second chance. A new hamster is purchased and brought home - and the girl is told not to man-handle the hamster under any circumstances.

The following morning Hamster the Second is found hard as a rock...death had consumed him. The mother throws the hamster and cage away, vowing never to allow the girl to have a pet again.

Fast forward to Saturday. The man finds a domesticated finch on the sidewalk, unable to fly.

The man offers to give the finch to the girl, buy it a cage, food, toys, nest...etc. The stupid mother agrees to this. They buy the accessories, come home, mother brings the bird to the cage and the bird dies in the mother's hands.

The man suggests buying a living bird for the girl. The man and the mother are convinced to buy two parakeets. Meet Doug and Carrie...
That blue bird...that's Doug.That plastic bag...that's Carrie. Why? Because I didn't get a chance to take a picture of her before we found her DEAD at the bottom of the cage. FUCK. I wanted BADLY to return the whole cage, the bird that managed to make it through the night and all the toys...but the man and girl wanted me to try once more...meet Big Bird, purchased him yesterday...so far, he lives.


To be continued...

Cool

Friday I went to a birthday party for my kid's friend's friend. My kid isn't tight with the kid, but I am cool with the mom so I was totally down. Did I lose you already?

So, anyway, we get there and it's set up like a spa - floor pillows, plushy carpets and hanging drapes. The ultimate coolness - the mom had 3 women come to her house and each kid got a facial, massage, nails done and make up! WTF!? How did I not know this existed?! To top it off she had these little kits where each kid made their own lotion, lip gloss, perfume and body glitter... I am jacking this idea. Try and stop me.

Other news - the verdict is still out on my child's intelligence. She is completely unaware of people not liking her. She could spend an entire day with kids who think she's a child-sized version of Napoleon Dynamite, but if you ask her, she will tell you everyone likes her. Good or bad? Unknown.

Also, I was trying to convince her that going back to school is fun. New supplies, new friends, new clothes, new teacher - specifically, that this teacher does not know she's a talkaholic and pretty much doesn't pay attention, ever.

Me: "You can start off with a clean slate. Maybe not talk and actually pay attention this year. Then the teacher will like you."

Her: "Yeah...that's probably not going to happen."

Me: ...

FOR SHIT'S SAKE...she won't even give it a TRY.

Persuasion

You know how there are movies you can't pass up on TV? Like, the one that you've seen a billion times but if it's on, you have to watch it.  Even if there's only ten minutes left. Even if it's on TBS and all the good curse words are bleeped out...and the sex scenes are cut short and/or missing... Even if you own the DVD.

I have way too many movies that fall into that category. My man knows this and if he sees a movie he deems to be "gay" (gay = anything I would like) he will quickly change the channel hoping I won't notice. But I ALWAYS notice because all I need is a brief glimpse and I immediately know that the woman having her baby in the Walmart is Natalie Portman in "Where the Heart is" or that the chick beating the crap out of her kids on the front lawn is Ashley Judd in "The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood." What about when Richard Gere catches Julia Roberts flossing the strawberry seeds out of her teeth but thinks she's doing drugs? If you don't know that's from "Pretty Woman" then...well, I'd like to see you how explain yourself when you meet your maker, you shameful heathen.

He will also change the channel at the speed of light if he thinks the advertisement is for something I might buy (But baby, it chops ALL the things!), or if the TV show might remind me of how we aren't engaged/married yet (insert involuntary eye twitch here)....or if it's a beach scene - he worries I'll start planning a vacation. You know...maybe this is why he makes me watch Fox News. Other than wanting tickets to the Bold/Fresh tour (not) there isn't much on that channel that would appeal to me. Crafty bastard.

I created an excel sheet with all of my expenses and my income. I'm in one of those, "be a damn grown-up for shit's sake" type of moods. There's supposed to be a surplus after I pay my bills. There's not. I run out of money and one of two things happens:

1. Visa puts the moves on me and I am not strong enough to resist his relentless flirtation.
2. I put the moves on my man and then cry poverty.

Ok...it doesn't go down like that exactly. I don't have to put the moves on him...he gives me money all the time anyway. But if I say that then it's really not funny...and also it allows you to see his wonderful side - thus undoing years of blogging during which I've persuaded you that there is nothing in this universe that can compare to the level of annoyance my man can achieve on any given day.

School + Autumn = Mixed Feelings

You know how I get right? About autumn? You know I have major autumnal-compulsive-disorder?

I've been showing restraint through. My house is still in summer mode and I am still planning summer activities for the near future. But once school starts, IT'S ON.

The girl and I drove by the ol' church the other day. Remember how I was all "Yay! Let's be religious!" last year? I kinda gave up on it after like 5 months...okay 3 months...1 month? It's possible we attended more than two times. Anyway, she asked me if she could go back. For real. What's in it for me? I get to shop for communion dresses...

Also, girl scouts. She's a brownie now. Plus Kumon school...it's a reading and math program. Plus regular school work....second grade is bound to be more difficult than first. It's sucking all the fun out of autumn to think about these things. All the homework! Back to school clothes and supplies are purchased...let the count down begin.

Work is going really well. I get lots of compliments, and who doesn't appreciate a compliment? My bosses are cool for the most part. One came out yesterday, said, "Good job!" and then proceeded to extend his fist out to me. For what? A pound? For you non-natives, the urban dictionary defines a pound as the knocking of fists as a form of greeting, departure, or respect. I am lily white. That's two steps away from translucent. As for my boss? Short of a shaved head he might as well be nicknamed Powder. My genetic makeup so fiercely rejected that pound I couldn't muster up so much as a high five...fail.

Went to see the man last night. I had to run out though because I felt the rage building. It was like I saw a full moon and was about to become a werewolf but still had enough humanity left in me to get the hell outa there before I hurt someone. Looked at my little period calendar the second I got in the car and sure enough, she is on her way...

Vacation

Went on a short vacation with summer friend. I'll try to give you the short version.

• Summer friend likes to ignore the GPS
• The GPS is sensitive and if you ignore him too many times he will fuck you and send you to the ghetto
• Kids are fucking annoying and should be left home
• The Holiday Inn sucks
• They allow pets - ie barking dogs at midnight
• They don't have enough parking spots to accomodate their guests so you may have to park at the PC Richard next door
• The breakfast wraps made my kid sick
• If you lie and say you tripped on the curb while crossing from PC Richard to Holiday Inn, they really don't give a shit
• They make you sign out towels
• Yes, I'm serious.
• If one of your kids unknowingly puts the "do not disturb" sign on the door knob you will not receive maid service that day
• Okay, that one's on us - but it added to the misery.
• The pull-out couch had a blanket from 1957 that appeared to have never been washed
• The carpet...5th avenue after the Puerto Rican Day parade is cleaner.
• There is nothing at Pier 1 that I would not buy
• I like Pina Coladas, a lot.
• Cooper's Beach is supposed to be one of the most beautiful beaches in the US. It's nice...but, just nice. Not special. They lie.
• The highlight of Cooper's Beach was a 90 year old man with a bathing suit sagging low enough for his crack to show. I took a pic.

• The ugly - girls ranging in age from 5-8 ran, topless, over our towels multiple times until summer friend spoke to the asshole mother.
• Montauk is cool
• In hindsight, we should have stayed here. There is a lot to do.
• We shopped.
• We took the kids in paddle boats. I saw a swan, a muskrat and multiple geese/ducks.
• Kids should not stear paddle boats. Ever.
• We ate at cute places. I still like pina coladas, a lot.
• We went to Ditch Plains (a cool beach with sea cliffs) and I took lots of pics
• I bought my man a hat
• We had so much fun here we are planning to come back next year, exclusively, yay!
• Last day
• We surprised the kids with a trip to Adventureland on the way home.

The End.

Stupidity.

I have it.

Ever do something SO stupid that your brain cannot even register the event? It's like your thoughts are in between radio stations and there is only static...with a faint tune you can't quite make out.

Came home from the beach. Bought a few groceries on the way. Parked the car. Took the keys out of the ignition. Grabbed the bags. Opened the car door.

See that? That's the sewer right outside of my car door. And these...

















Are my keys...in the sewer. You like that? That's a sweet end to a day, right?

I called my man, of course. He didn't even pretend to be surprised.
















They are currently in the decontamination process.

Cupcakes Anonymous

Last night bff and I attempted a flip flop cake...

Then we did a few cupcakes...like this...

Then, because I'm a sick human being...I made one like this...

You should know I enjoyed every bit of it.

Rage

How come women can find things and men can't?

How come my man doesn't even know what's in his own house? He will call me and ask me where something is in HIS house!

How come if I tell him EXACTLY where his mystery item is, he still can't see it?!

Man: Where's the soda? You said you had soda for me?

Me: It's on the top shelf, baby, next to the juice.

Man: No, it's not. You don't have soda.

Me: I bought it for you. It's a new bottle. It's big and says "Diet Pepsi" on it and it's next to the juice.

Man: I don't see it.

Me: It's THERE!

Man: ...nope.

...I reluctantly get up and look myself...

...and do you know what?

IT'S RIGHT FUCKING THERE ON THE TOP FUCKING SHELF NEXT TO THE MOTHER FUCKING JUICE

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!KILL!!!!!!YOU!!!!!!!DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love him, lots.

The Zoo

My man has anger issues sometimes. He escalates into an infuriated state - I blame the animals. It's like zero-to-angry in mere seconds. He has dogs (plural) and cats (also plural) that drive him insane. He is a loving person with a big heart...takes in strays - how else would he wind up with a gem such as myself?

Usually it's like...
"Hey baby, the dog with the crooked penis just pissed on his paw and then hit me in the face with that very same paw.
Then the cat threw up on my bed.
Then the other dog peed all over the house and I stepped in it after I got out of the shower I needed from the pee-paw/face incident.
Now the other cat shit on my kitchen table.
Then the remaining dog barked and woke me up after I didn't sleep all night and then the remaining cat decided to sneeze in my face!
I HATE THIS HOUSE AND THESE FUCKING ANIMALS I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS I HOPE THEY ALL DIE!!!!!!!!!!ASSHOLES!!! FUCKERS!!!!!!
FUCK!!!!!"

He also sends me pictures of poop and whatnot. I will spare you...

But I will share this! Cuz it's cool.

Summer friend purchased this little critter for her daughter a few weeks ago. This is post ferrets...

Hedge hog. He's cute, but spikey, like a porcupine. I find it difficult to hold and cuddle him when he hurts me. And poops like a champ.

This morning I saw some terrorist looking men on the lower level of my building...huddled around lots of paper work. Is it mean that I say that? I'm not a liberal so I can stereotype at will, right?

Anywho...I realized downstairs is the Visa office. I feel safe again. I don't believe they will ever blow up the building that gives out the Visas...that's just not logical. Terrorists are nothing if not logical.

Hot Stuff Baby this Evening...

Well, I decided this morning that my man will get some tonight. I prepped the area...

If he only knew decisions regarding his sexual fate were made in the wee hours of the morning...

...so it's been predetermined, unless he does something to anger me before then.

The girl started camp. She loves it, which makes me happy. FYI the cost of such happiness is a mere $1,000 a month...that's not pesos.

I still haven't seen the new Twilight. What kind of fan am I? I'm waiting for the availability of two friends to align with mine...so...perhaps I'll see it when it comes out on DVD next year.

I read The Pact, by Jodi Picoult. She is one disturbed human being. Hmmm...I think I'll write about child molestation and suicide today in great detail. Yes, then afterwards I'll do the dishes and have a nice cup of tea. Sick bitch. I forced myself to finish it hoping for a decent ending and I was severely disappointed.

It's Birthday time...the man, TexAss, work friend, summer friend, summer friend's sister's son - say that 3x fast. I like gift shopping for little people, they are easy. Gift shopping for big people - I'd rather wax off my eyebrows before my wedding day.

I worry that they won't like their gifts. What's the point in giving a gift if they hate it? The man is hard to buy for because he's all, "Don't spend money on me!" Right. I suppose he means, "Don't spend the money I give you on a gift for me." Makes sense in theory...whatever.

Post July 4th

Independance day always brings me back...

My dad used to sell fireworks out of his trunk and our garage. Whatever was leftover he'd set off in the neighborhood. We never had to go anywhere to see them, the show was always in front of our house.

Actually, scratch that, he didn't set them off himself. He used to give them to asshole kids on the block for them to set them off. I guess he didn't want to get burned, thought it better for kids to...good man.

My dad was always obsessed with making money "off the books." He always had side jobs, fixing cars, selling pot, creating a little store in our garage filled with things that "fell off the back of a truck."

Come Christmas, people would shop in our basement for Yankee Candles, Nine West Leather Jackets, Baby Phat sweat suits...yeah...even those.

I thought nothing of this.

He was also Mr. Fix It...you know, jack of all trades, master of none. Whatever he "fixed" would be broken again in no time at all. We once had a hole in our ceiling for a year. Tile that was missing in the kitchen...a toilet that had to be "flushed a certain way" - OR ELSE.

Termites ate through our floor once and he tried to fill in the gaps with CAULK.

His whole deal was he went to Aviation High school...he wanted to be a pilot, or work on planes, or whatever. When he got out of high school, everyone came back from the war and took all the "air plane jobs" WAH WAH WAH ...so he settled for being a mechanic.

He was good at that, but for some reason my mom's car always ran like shit. So we'd be all on the side of the road, stuck, with mom crying in hysterics trying to pull someone over to help us...and my sister and I, catching crickets in the grass. After a while I learned how to add water (poor man's antifreeze) to the car so we could be on our merry way.

These are the sweet memories I've been blessed with.

FINISH HIM

I hate fighting. I like resolution. I'd prefer it if the resolution came promptly after the fight.

My man would be fine just hanging up pissed off at each other and then pretending like nothing happened the next day. I don't know why, but I can't function like this.

Also, I don't think I'm smart enough to win an argument.

I will start off strong but I'm draggin ass by the end of the race. I forget my point, I start blubbering mindlessly, I go on tangents that take me far away from whatever I was angry about to begin with.

Also, I'm poorly armed with a shit memory. So if someone asks me to give them an example of the behavior I am accusing them of...I'm all...."Uhhh....I DON'T KNOW I JUST KNOW YOU DO IT. FUCKER."

Fuck.

I don't have any fight or flight either. I just stand there, like a dumb ass...lost. (Ref: Ford Fuckus if necessary)

I *think* the fights I witnessed/participated in as a child just weren't sufficient.

Mom: HEY, Laura! Did you just slam the door on me?

(I look around, I'm the only one there.)

Me: I'm not Laura.

Mom: WHY DID YOU SLAM THE DOOR ON ME LAURA?!

Me: No one slammed the door. I'm also still not Laura.

Mom: YOU are a little bitch, YOU KNOW THAT LAURA?

Me: Ok, fine...I'll be Laura. But who are you going to be?

Mom: I can't even deal with you right now. I need to find my other daughter.

Other daughter, meaning me, of course...but I didn't have the heart to tell her. She just seemed so determined!

Harassment Commandments

All of these big companies have anti-harassment policies and you always wind up having to sit through this whole internet-presentation about what harassment is, what you should report, what you're not allowed to do...

You would think that if you managed to get yourself hired to begin with, you should have enough common sense to know that certain behaviors just aren't acceptable in the work place.

For your amusement, I will share the cliffs notes version of such a policy:

1. Thou shalt not circulate pornography throughout the office using company email. (NOW what am I going to do with the second half of my day?)

2. Thou shalt not exchange sexual favors for promotions. (Guess I'll be an assistant forever.)

3. Thou shalt not stalk other employees.

4. Thou shalt not make racist comments.

5. Thou shalt not post offensive cartoons in one's cubicle. (My walls are now bare - HAPPY?)

...then they give you situations.

Someone posts a picture of Suzy's head on a naked body and makes photocopies to distribute throughout the office. What should Suzy do?!

A. Correct the problem by photocopying an ACTUAL nude photo with her own body for distribution.
B. Quit her job and contemplate suicide from the stress of it all.
C. Retaliate against employees a la trench coat and assault rifle.
D. Notify the HR department.

Hmmm...decisions, decisions...

The Ford Focus

It's rare that I post twice in a row. So, you know this must be special.

I have anxiety, fine, we know this. I also just FREAK out when it comes to unfamiliar territory. As summer friend told me yesterday, the following is a depiction of the exact opposite of what she would have done -

I'm driving to pick up the girl in Long Island, the details of this are unimportant. I left after work and sat in two hours of stop and go traffic. You know...you go a little, maybe make it over 20 mph and then come to a complete stop.

I'm about 20 minutes away from the house when I start coming to a stop and I hear "CRUNCH." I perk up and look in front of me, did I hit the car in front of me? How could I do that? I was stopping! I look in my rear view mirror to witness some nasty old fucker throwing his car in reverse and driving away...leaving me there.

He bumped me and I, in turn, bumped the car in front of me. The SUV in front of me. He pulls over leaving no space for me so I pull over in front of him. Before I can even get out of my car or make words the man is at my window, he says, "It's just a scratch, I'm going." He leaves me there, too.

Fine, I drive away, shaken, but okay.

I get to summer friend's house. Before I get out of the car I call my man. I tell him someone bumped me on the road and drove away. I'm okay. It wasn't that hard, no damage. I hang up. (See what I left out there? But no harm done, right?)

Wrong. So, so wrong.

I get out of my car and I see what I've missed - why everyone ditched me on the road. I HAD DAMAGE. One of my headlights was pushed under my hood and the hood was popped up. I start to hyperventilate. I go in and confess my sins to summer friend.

She's all, "WHY DIDN'T YOU GET THE PLATES OF THE OTHER GUY? WHY DIDN'T YOU GET OUT OF YOUR CAR? WHY? WHY? WHY?"

GOD I DON'T FUCKING KNOW, OKAY? I'm slow. I'm a dumbass. I'm fucking disabled when it comes to stuff like this. I start sweating.

Of course, now I have to call my man and fill him in on the details I had previously left out. Hello dear, I actually bumped someone, too, with your car, that I am not even listed on the insurance to drive, and I have damage....and I'm sorry and I love you and please don't kill me, bye.

He didn't answer so I left a message. All the while my ugly mangled Ford Fuckus staring at me through the window...while my kid jumps up and down next to me asking me, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO OUR CAR?" Get away from me child before I run you over, too...

Man calls back later, doesn't even care. Is happy I'm okay. Summer friend's husband fixes the headlight so it looks like nothing ever happened. Happily ever after. I really freaked out for nothing...sorta. Moral of the story? Don't tailgate. No wait...don't be a fucking dumbass. Yeah.

A swan

I let the girl sleep in my bed sometimes. She gets nose bleeds now and then. She got one last night. I heard her in my sleep and she said "Nose bleed!" so I JUMPED out of bed and ran FULL STEAM...right into my CLOSED bedroom door.
I typically leave it open but when it's hot I close it because we have the AC on. I'm not sure what she would have done had I knocked myself unconscious...I have a bump on my forehead.

I also have Mount Vesuvius and his distant cousin setting up shop on my face. Guess the ol' time of the month is on its way.

I'm a picker by nature, but I won't pick these. They aren't quite ripe yet. My man thinks my picking is unnatural...a disease even. But I know I'm not alone in this. There are others of my kind.

I had to pick up a new Crackberry for work. They are hooking it up now, you know, so I can be reached 24/7. Yay me.

Went to a bowling party for some friend of the girl. Boring as fuck. Those heinous old fart school moms ignored me as per usual. Hate. I managed to make a friend though. We talked about school, homework, how kids are funny and men are stupid. She told me why she won't let her husband help the kids with their school work.

Assignment: Write a sentence for the word, "swan."

Child writes: "A swan will shit in your garden."

Father says: ...nothing. And allows the child to bring this homework into school.

Men just fuck shit up badly enough that we won't ever ask them to do something again. Crafty little fuckers.

Maybe if I fuck up a BJ a few times I won't be asked for them anymore either...

Drunk You

You now how there's you, and then there's that other you...the one that comes out when enticed with alcohol? The "you" that you've carefully locked away with years of practice from repeated humiliation...but alcohol is the key to that lock? The drunk you. The Mr. Hyde. The one that embarrasses the FUCK out of you now and again and occasionally leaves you with nothing but a spotted memory in which you appear to look great, but in fact have ruined your reputation beyond the point of repair.

Oh, you don't have that? Well, nobody likes you.

I don't let her out now. I'm a grown up. I know the signs. I have been born with the gift to cease and desist upon the feeling of the numb face. Numb face means I have had enough booze to be social, but I should most certainly stop before the caged bitch-ass-whore is let loose on innocents.

I mean, she's completely inappropriate. She moons people. She throws things. She's rude and has absolutely no filter. None. She will say things that will get her, and anyone who associates with her, a decent beat down. She gets mad at twins simply because they look alike and confuse her. She falls asleep in front of firehouses, she yells at inanimate objects (ie: parking meters, trees, etc), and she's prone to impromptu dance performances wherein it is unlikely that such a thing is appropriate.

She's hazardous to my health. She ruined my future in politics, should I have ever wanted one.

Well, this wasn't in the brochure

...and there I was, wondering what on earth I would do with my first weekend as a free woman.

So, I quit the job I stopped loving months ago, you may recall a decent sized bitch-ass-rant about the smile nazi, a large part of the reason why I started looking else where in the first place. The cloud must have been too busy premeditating future mishaps because BITCH MISSED OUT on this one! I got a new job making significantly more than I was, and for once, I'm happy.

My brain isn't even sure how to handle this amount of happiness. I'm still getting used to it...because it's so foreign to me...I feel like I just spotted a unicorn, or found out there really is a Santa Clause and I, in fact, did not hallucinate that time I swore I saw him as a child. (Well, I was 15, but whatever.)

Friday my summer friend called and propositioned me with a road trip upstate to drop off a couple of ferrets at a rescue. I shit you not.

Of course I went. My kid loves her kids more than she loves me so...how could I deny her this opportunity to hang out with them? She says, "Be ready because I'm getting up at 6:30." Okay...sure. She arrives at 10:30, and I am ready with munchkins and coffee.

We set the navigation and we're on our way. It's supposed to take about 2.5 hours to get to the "big yellow house" in Hudson Valley. Approximately two hours and fifteen minutes into the trip a child asks, "Can I hold one of them?" Sure, we say. Mere minutes later we hear:

HE POOPED ON ME! AHHHHHHHHHHH!

The kids scream... I scream... friend screams...the poop child cries...we fly off the road and pull over. I open the window because the stench activates my gag reflex and vomit won't help anyone at this point. We throw the blanket with poop out the window. We find wipes and try to start cleaning her up, as well as the damn ferret that has actual diarrhea on it. It was like, caked into his fur *gag* and friend is holding it by the nape of it's neck as it dangles over the open munchkin box and coffee cups.

She wipes the poop off the ferret but with any kind of pressure the thing starts swaying back and forth. I witness the poop particles falling into the munchkin box. So now, she holds the thing and I start wiping - tossing each wipe out the window - as well as the contaminated munchkins and coffee. The kids are still screaming/crying but we are now hysterical laughing and I'm also still trying my best not to vomit.

Now, a man strolls out of the store we pulled over in front of with a garbage bag. Busted. We had completely littered his little lawn with shit-ridden paraphernalia. I look at friend and she says, "I'll do it." (Damn straight she'll do it. I wasn't about to touch any of that shit.) She apologizes profusely to the man and we're on our way.

We arrive at the "Big Yellow House" that is the ferret rescue. I'm not sure what anyone else was expecting but this pretty much fit my assumptions. It was a white trash dump, complete with about 50 ferrets- that we could see anyway. The smell. The creepiness...I was thinking we should have left some evidence of our trip behind so they could locate the bodies once we were reported missing.

We made it out of there, with all of the children in tact and we found outlet stores on the way home. Thankfully, retail therapy is a cure-all.

Anniversary

It's been just 5 short years that I've been with the man. My boyfriend. Not my husband, or even fiance... Isn't that nice?

...

At least I don't have to date anymore. I had a habit of picking the greatest guys ever.

In college this guy asked me out. Over and over and over. I finally say yes, just to shut him up.

He takes me into the city to some restaurant, then we go for a walk in Central Park. Why do my dates always wind up here? Anyway...

While we're walking he says:

"Got cold, didn't it?"

"Yeah. You want my jacket?" I joked.

"Sure" he says.

He takes it.
He puts it on.
He wears it home.

He hands it back to me before we part ways and says,

"I can't take it home. My wife will ask questions"

Yep.

Just call me Sybil

Is it normal that for a few days out of the month I hate my man for no apparent reason?

I mean, last night I was laying in my bed thinking, "Why do I want to spend the rest of my life with this fool?"

But, deep down I know it's just the PMS talking. There is a small rational part of my brain that can see this...and I remind myself that in a week I'll love him again. Just right now I hate him and just about everyone else. I particularly hate him though. I have a strange PMS multiple personality disorder. I feel almost as though I should write myself notes when I'm happy and in love that say, "Don't do anything rash. Wait until after the flood and then assess the situation once more."

Mathematically speaking, I hate him for 1/4 of my life. Really puts things in perspective...

When we watch TV, one of us has to pick. We don't like any of the same shows...any. I usually let him watch what he wants, Fox News. I am quiet. I listen but I don't care for it. They all talk about the same things day after day, show after show. But I endure...silently, every night.

Why? Because when I watch my shows he either:

A. Makes fun of them.
or
B. Talks through them, asking me questions or trying to figure out what's going on. He won't even wait for a commercial. He'll talk right over other people talking in the show. No respect. Then, when I rewind and watch it over he thinks I'm being bitchy and will say, "Oh sorry...I won't ever talk again." Like I've offended him for wanting to know what I missed.

GRRRRRRRRRRR!

I'd rather Tivo everything and watch it alone. Bring on Glenn Beck and O'Reilly...Vampire Diaries and Gossip Girl will have to wait.

Put on a Happy Face

Day 29 of captivity:

I no longer like this job. Here's why-

Yesterday, I get called into a little mini meeting with my manager. She tells me I am GREAT, doing a great job, yadda yadda - I know.

Then she says, "Are you happy here?"

Me: Yes, very happy.

Her: Because, you just don't smile much.

Me: ...

Her: Sometimes, I think I'm smiling but I'm really making a face like this (proceeds not to smile) so I make a better effort, show teeth, and smile!

Me: ...

Her: But everything else is great!

Me: So, I do my job well...but you want me to smile more...

Her: Yes!

You know, this made me cry after I walked out. She proceeded to tell me that it looks like I don't want to be here and went on and on about how I should be more bubbly and smiling. But, the thing is, I AM a smiler, you know? I'm jolly damnit. Rarely am I in a bad mood. This just struck me as fucking weird. She made it sound as though they ALL thought this of me.

Come to find out it's only one woman who thinks this. This woman, who I say goodmorning to every day and she just stares at me like a deer in the headlights, went out of her way to complain about me. I didn't even want to come in today - unless it was in the form of rebellion.

Well, I smiled the FUCK out of that bitch all day today. I don't feel much better about it. I hope she's happy, with her fake smiles and forced kiss-ass.

Golden Goose

In a very Twilight-esque sort of way, my daughter has been born with the opposite "gift" that is my genetic legacy. Instead of a black cloud, she has sunshine every day. If she were a goose she'd lay golden eggs. That's just how she rolls.

For instance:

At Shea Stadium, where the Mets used to play, she got picked out of who knows how many kids to win a Build a Bear gift card and be on the big screen in the stadium, Diamond Vision. I have a picture as proof.
They told me they picked her because she was cute.

Walking in a local park we saw that the carousel had opened, she rides it. There is a woman snapping pictures who asks if we'd mind if she used her picture with her article in the local paper. We said sure. Sure as shit, my kid is on the front page of that paper a week later, big spread with her cheese smile.

We went to Medieval Times, a knight threw her a flower but some other kid jumped up and caught it. The next time he had a flower he threw it to her AGAIN. She caught it the second time, thankfully.

This past weekend, she went to the Gazillion Bubble show on Broadway. She got called up on stage. They put her in a giant bubble. Then they gave her a giant bubble maker toy just for participating.

She always gets stuff. I find this to be awesome. At least I didn't pass on my misfortune to her.

Camp

My girl has the option to go camping with the girl scouts, but only if I go, too.

You know I have the spider issue. Plus, the weekend is surrounded by "water activities."

So, one time, we were in NJ for the summer and my mom, aunt and uncle have this idea that we should all go canoeing down some river. Cool right?

So we've got boat A - consisting of uncle, and two cousins. Boat B - Aunt and two boy cousins. And Boat C - Crazy, me and my sister.

In the beginning, mom says, "I have done this before. I will be the rear and control the boat." My sister is to be in the middle, doing nothing, and I am the front...just row she says, once on the right, once on the left, repeat. GOT IT!

There is a nest of daddy long leg spiders that decide NOW is the time they will come out from under the seats of the canoe. The horror. I tell my mom, she says KEEP ROWING They're ahead of us! I cry. I use my flip flop to kill them as they attack. But their numbers were infinite...so though I won't mention them again, they are continually attacking us throughout the trip. They are also waterproof.

Mom stears us into the side of the river. We capsize. My sister, in her life jacket, goes floating down the river. My mom is screaming and flailing her arms about, crying about my sister...I stand, turn the canoe back over, and advise my mother that we are in 3 ft of water and she can stand. She gets in the boat and we are on are way to get my sister...who is now yards ahead of us.

We get my sister, we row...we hit the side and capsize again.

Mom says I am fucking up the boat and that's why we capsized. She is now in the front, I am in the back, and stupid sister is safely in the middle. Tasked with nothing.

We start going towards the side again. Mom directs me and I do as told, only the rear of the boat hits the side this time - you know, the part with me in it...I duck to avoid bushes...thorny bushes...they tear up my back and left arm. I tell mom and she says KEEP ROWING. Fine.

We catch up with my Uncle who asks why I am bleeding so badly. Mom is like SHE'S FINE. But she CAN'T ROW WORTH A SHIT.

I am so excited to go through this again....

When she dates...

Me: The man is on the phone telling me what he'll say to boys the girl dates

Friend: he won't tell them anything because she will sneak them around behind your back. that's what i did. so what will he say

"If you break her heart, listen, she has to get over it. Don't stay with her out of fear. But if you hurt her in any other way I will shoot you."
"I will happily go to jail. I won't fight it. I'll plea to manslaughter."

Friend: good he is going down happy.

Me: pretty much.

Friend: you can get probation for manslaughter if you don't have a record.
so he can be free and happy!

Me: awesome!

Friend: i wonder what i should say to the whores my boy shames me with
if you get pregnant i will kill you? no. not good to threaten that to a pregnant teen.

Me: HAHAHAHHA
this just became blog material.

Friend: fame!
you might mention how good it is that we have already taken care of these issues. something about our powers of organization.
how we encourage and nurture our children sort of thing.

Me: if you'd like.

Outsider

Happy Easter and shit.

Mine was fine.

I have a runny nose. It's been here for weeks now. I assume it's allergies but I'm tired of medicating myself every damn day.

When I was little my crazy mom called boogers, menews. I don't know if that's how you spell it but you pronounce it me-new. If my nose was running I'd call it menew juice. That's hot right? Well, I still mentally call it that...I just don't tell outsiders.

me: my nose won't stop running...it's extremely annoying

friend: stop snorting the cocaine.

me: quitting is for the weak.

At my job, they list you in the directory according to your position. Except I'm a temp for now...rant to follow.

Instead of it saying Temp next to my name it says OUTSIDER. Like, don't share information with her she's an OUTSIDER. It hurts my wittle feelings...

Know what else hurts my feelings? My recruiter taking 200 out of my check every damn week for the next 3 months. WHORE. It does more than hurt my feelings...she might as well drop a fucking turd in my cocoa puffs. HATE.

Job N'stuff

I like this job.

I do real things for real people and make a real difference. Quite unlike anything I've ever done before.

The people are nice, too.

I'm happy.

So, I'm sitting here at work, and I hear this creeeeeeaking. Creak, creak, creeeeaaaakkkkk....
I look up at the ceiling, it appears to be coming from there.
People see me and say, "It's the building swaying because it's so windy."

The. building. is. swaying.

This is normal to all of them but it has FREAKED me out.

This weekend is Easter. I bought the stuff but as per usual have yet to assemble the basket. I have planned to make fettucine alfredo and chicken scallopini marsala. Not very Easter-y but no one here likes ham. So that's that. It's going to be very warm out so I'm going to pose the girl in all her cuteness for pictures...

Tonight I feel like cooking...but, the man wants to touch my hiney later. I don't know if I have enough energy for both.

Speaking of:

I found out last Friday that I am not the only one who says, "Okay, as long as I don't have to move."

Employed.

I'm employed. Start tomorrow. Nervous a bit...

Of course the second I take this job, another job I was waiting on finally calls me back and makes me an offer. I don't really like having choices. It was easy with just the one offer...but now two? Eh...

The people took two weeks to call me back after several weeks of interviews- so screw them. Right? Taking the one that called me back the very next day and said, "We want you!" I think it's a better fit.

I pulled a little somethin somethin in my neck 4 days ago. It still hurts. I can't turn my head. Feels like whiplash except I didn't do anything to cause it. It just appeared.

I feel like taking some pictures. I'm going to dust off the old camera this weekend and try to get some spring shots. We are decorating eggs on Sunday, and making the magnificent Easter bread. Joy!

Girlscout cookies are in and they made me fat. Fatter. No weight watchers this week. I'm afraid to weigh myself. Bleh.

A girl I used to know had a baby, apparently. She is the same age I was when I had my girl. Young-ish and unwed. She'll be fine, she's well-adjusted...at least last time I saw her I thought she was. I am wondering what the parents think. Especially since the mom of this girl looked down on me from her high horse not too many years ago. I kinda wanna run into her just so I can say, "HA! BITCH."

That's bitter of me, I know. But, I'm only human. I took a lot of shit from a lot of people when I had the girl...and didn't have much help. So, I'm allowing myself bitterness today.

The Chronicles of PTA

Meeting tonight. They are using both of my fund raising ideas.

I am heading up one of them. (OH, THE POWER!)

They asked me to run for a position on the board.

What do you think I did?

HA! Well, I didn't! I said NO. I totally have self restraint! You doubted me!

Stupid.

Also- you have to be available from 8-9 in the morning for meetings. I'm assuming I'll have a job again before June 30th 2011. So, this is the real reason I had to say no. But I still said no! That's important to note. I didn't contemplate staying unemployed for a year and a half just to do this...ok, for a couple seconds I did...

Kara on American Idol is a bitch. I'm just throwing that in there because I'm watching right now.

Lost, on the other hand, rocks. They keep saying though that they will answer questions and all they're doing is making me ask MORE questions. Damn show! Wrap it up already you've only got 10 episodes left!

I miss Glee. It's coming back though, thank the LORD. I wish I could sing. I feel like I have the heart and soul of singer, but the voice of some suffering creature. It's not a great combination honestly...

When I was a kid I would sing and my mom would say, "Stop screwing around you're ruining the song!" But I was giving it my all. They'd even bang on the bathroom door when I'd sing in the shower to shut me up. Whatever. Wii Disney Karaoke thinks I'm good. You should see my scores...

Heffer Status

I've been doing Weight Watchers since the thong/picture incident. I'm down to 132. I can't remember the last time I weighed 132. The problem is, physically I don't see much of a difference. I still have back fat and all that...the ass, I'm sure, looks the same.

I have a second interview today.

King of Queens

People say my man and I are like that show. I have the accent and he's got the sense of humor. We happen to like that show very much. Even when new people meet us they think that immediately and always tell us.

I filed my taxes today. Getting back 7,000+. Finally, getting knocked up at 21 and dropping out of college only to return 8 years later is paying off! That was my plan all along...

I miss summer. Why couldn't I be unemployed during the summer? Go to my summer house with my summer friend...do summer stuff. No, no...not me...I get to be unemployed during the bitch cold frigid fucking NYC winter. Can't go out. Can't do shit. I'm bored.

My kid is going ghetto on me...in the past couple of weeks alone she has said:

"I busted my knee!"
    Translation:  I hurt my knee.

"Do you have to go to the bathroom, Mom? Because I think I'm going to blow it up."
    Translation:  I have to poop. It's going to smell. Be advised.

Not sure where this is coming from. Kids are weird. They say weird shit that doesn't make sense and do weird things that make you tilt your head to the side and ponder their motives... I'm kind of naive, okay...very naive. I wonder if she takes advantage of that and plays me? Do you think so? I feel like I catch her most of the time but it's quite possible she pulls the ol' wool over my eyes. She's sneaky, manipulative and cute as hell. Awful combination. Her poor husband...he's fucked.

I know other parents look at us, the girl and me, and they know I'm fucked.

I do nothing now...

Okay, so, I got laid off.

I found out a few days before Christmas and was kind of in denile. I was hoping I'd find a new job before this one was over, which was January 29th. It's now February 17th, and I'm still home.

It's weird. It didn't really hit me, the magnitude of it, until just a day or so ago. Suddenly I realized I have no schedule, no real routine. I just wake up, take the girl to school and then go home to finish doing the nothing I started the day before. I do a hell of a lot of nothing. Nothing in the morning. Nothing in the afternoon. Finish the day off with a bit of nothing.

It's weird.

Yo Shawty, it's my birfday...

So I turn the big 2-9 this year. Way harsh, cuz I totally expected to be somewhere else at 29.

I will celebrate the end of my 20's with Wing Pong 2.0.  God I'm fuckin old...

Also, the girl's birthday is coming. We have planned a winter luau. Leis and coconuts and...I don't know, more leis. I have a bunch of decorations and crafts and shits, they'll have fun.

My mom called. First time since showing up at my door in December drunk with gifts. I answered WITHOUT LOOKING AT THE NUMBER. Because, you know, I'm still all "That's it. I'm done. I have no parents. I quit." I would have ignored that call had I fucking looked at the number. But no. I answer and I'm like, "Oh, it's you." She was just asking me questions and I was answering and all monotone. She eventually hung up. I'm not answering again. I swear it. For real this time. Stop shaking your head, I really mean it. OH SHUT UP.

The girl vomitted in my bed the other night. Like, in her sleep, vomitted. Like, she's laying there and I'm laying there and we're sleeping cuz I let her sleep in my bed and she pukes. In her sleep. So anyway I get her to sit up so she won't drown in chunks and she pukes again, projectile kind. Yay. Then I'm like STAY HERE AND I'LL GET THE PASTA POT! So I run and get it and she's gone and puked again...so she's sitting in MY bed in a pool of puke with eyes closed. Possibly still asleep.

Where does one begin? How do you clean this? I put her entire self, pajamas and all, into the shower. Then I bagged up the (vom) puke blankets (vom) and washed the floors (vom) all while trying not to vomit myself. THERE WERE CHUNKS OKAY?

Damnit...I just don't like vomit. That's why I'm a fat ass. Bulimia is just too damn messy...

McFat with a side of ass

After I got out of the shower, I walked into my room, dropped my towel and proceeded to pull a thong on up...

My man snaps a pic of me doing so, from behind.

It was, by far, the most revolting fucking thing I have ever seen in my entire life.

Like it might as well have been the ass of a 65 year old fat woman.

IT WAS BAD

So bad that even my man, who LOVES my ass

I mean he would buy STOCK in my ass if it were available

Said...

 "That's a bad picture."

Everytime I'm tempted to eat wings or nachos or chocolate or french fries

I bring back that McHideous memory of my McFat Ass

Vomit builds in the back of my throat

 and i work out instead.

Taken from "How to Stay on a Diet" by Fatty McSaddlebags

When it rains, it pours...

...right into my livingroom, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom.

The roof is leaking - suddenly and everywhere. Landlord's looking into it. But in the meantime...this sucks.

My mom wanted to simply drop off gifts for the girl. I let her. She came after my sister's rehearsal dinner. She had wine. The sound of her voice when she's been drinking is like nails on a chalkboard. Why do I allow her in my life, at all, you ask? Well, I'm a glutton for punishment. I sent her away...not before collecting the gifts for the girl. It was American Girl stuff, that shit ain't cheap.

My sister got married on Saturday while I was getting my hair cut. Every family member I have was there. I am both relieved and feeling left out. That one I don't let back in because she really could give a shit about anyone but herself. My mom at least cares, deep down in the sober part of herself...0.01% of her, approximately.

Hmm, what else? Two other really major shit things that I just don't want to share yet. Maybe not ever.

The man is having a hard time of it lately. I am trying to be there for him, be supportive. He is my rock though, I like him strong. I hope he finds his way soon. I don't like to see him like this...I think he is hurting.

Christmas came and went, and there is no regaining financial stability with the girl's birthday just around the corner. She wants a winter luau. I am down with this. Ordered some cute stuff...

I spent my Christmas on the couch with friend drinking wine and eating until I had to switch to stretchy pants. I actually liked it that way. Peaceful. Relaxed. No pressure.

New Year's Eve I went to a friend's house for a bit. It started to snow/sleet, so I left early. Watched the ball drop from my couch. I spent a lot of my vacation on the couch. I left an ass-shaped indent.

I want to share my big issues with someone, preferably my bff. But she is so involved with her own stuff that I'm not sure she'd be of much comfort to me. Typically she just tries to one-up me with her own issues. That doesn't really help. I'm not about to have a pity party contest.

I'm kind of sad. Stupid cloud... I could really use a pick me up.