Night at the "Museum"

Went to sleep over at a "Science Museum" with the girl, a Brownie trip.

I used the quotes there because this place is just as much a science museum as my apartment is a space station.

Let's start off with the fact that this place is a house...a 100 year old house that had a musty, old, dead smell. Before the bitterness took over, I was able to appreciate some of the history and detail of the house. But, I was quickly led to the room where we'd be sleeping. Hardwood floors friends. Not even a crappy, dust-ridden carpet. Just a hardwood dirty floor. Joy!

Let's just get to the meat of this, shall we?

1. Eleven girl scouts, four adults, one bathroom.

2. Lack of heat.

3. The freakshow of a tour guide that slept over with us. She appeared to have an aversion to soap. And toothpaste. And intelligence.

4. The only other mom there was the one that gives me the stink eye at every girl scout meeting. Let's cuddle!

5. I was assigned three girls. My kid, let's call the other two Grace and Dana.

6. Dana:
6a. "Giwls can get dwessed togethew because we all have da same pwivates!" (As she stripped down naked.)
6b. "My mom packed me a midnight snack! Toast with spway buttew!"
6c. Dana does not require a tissue to blow her nose. Doing so in her glove seemed to be perfectly acceptable.

7. My TexAss friend joked that there would be spiders. Trying to tease me. Not only were there spiders, they had a PET tarantula... WHAT THE FUCK?!

8. They made us hike...two hours at night to see nothing but snow and then an hour the next morning on the beach to see, you guessed it...snow! Surprise! Snow! Wow! How special! Wait...something about this mysterious white substance seems familiar to me...I can't quite put my finger on it... OH WAIT! I know! I HAVE HAD A FUCKING SHIT LOAD OF THIS BITCH COLD BULLSHIT IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD FOR THE PAST TWO MONTHS.

9. They had two rooms of animals. One room of reptiles (home of that dick tarantula) and one room of mammals that was the epicenter of the rancid stench that poisoned the entire house.

10. The kids fell asleep well after midnight and started waking up around 5:30. I got approximately 45 minutes of sleep...spaced out in 5 minute intervals. Some of those intervals may have been hallucinations of sleep. I can't be sure.

End result? I hate myself for agreeing to that trip. I couldn't hate myself more. It felt like Navy Seal boot camp - that I not only enrolled in willingly but PAID for.

My girl, though? She will tell you she had a GREAT time. She will tell you it was fun and she slept great and that she just cannot WAIT to go to camp in June. So... it made it all worthwhile. I have to say that, right?

'

Mistakes

I have pretty poor judgement.

I have yet to kill these parakeets, Big Bird and Blue (aka Doug) but now I hate them and wish they would die.

Isn't that always the way? You want something to live...it dies. You want something to die, it lives.

Lesson learned.

Idea: Say you really hated someone and had to give that person's child a gift. Immediately we think of drums. I'll do you one better...get em a couple of parakeets.

Reasons:

1. They NEVER shut the FUCK up.

2. They tell you to throw a blanket over them, tell them it's night time and they should sleep. Mine are like FUCK RIGHT OFF I know you are still awake! TWEET TWEET TWEET

3. Parakeets wish they were roosters. Crack of dawn. TWEETfuckTWEETyouTWEEThaTWEEThaTWEEThaTWEETha

4. They eat thier seeds and throw the seed shells OUT of the cage. Everyday.

5. They can also launch their shit out of the cage.

5a. Onto walls.

5b. And onto each other.

6. I mean what else is there? Oh, I know, the reason why people get pets. To come home and say, "Aw, my pet! Hi there, pet! I love you! You love me, too? This makes it all worth while! The shit, the mess, the noise - it matters not!"

Except every time I merely approach the cage they puff up their feathers, lift one leg uncomfortably and LITERALLY shit themselves.

I don't know, maybe they think I will fry them up for dinner. Who knows? I'd rather starve than eat them - that is how much I hate them now.

'

Cracker Slut

Being a NYC resident I have come across many types of people.

Some of these people...use the N word, a lot.

That N***** said what? Yeah, I know him, that's mah n*****!

I feel left out. I want a word to substitute for this word. I have found one and it is cracker.

I don't feel like I can say, "What up mah cracka?" Because it just doesn't have the same ring to it. It has to be more, "What is going on my cracker?" "How are the little crackers?" "Oh! Your youngest cracker starts school next year?"

I'm going to throw it out there and see if it catches on.

Yesterday my friend was telling me about her whorish excursions. She was all, "Don't judge me! I know you think I'm a slut!"

And I'm all, "I didn't say you were a slut. I know slut. I'm a retired slut."

You see, I have done more slutting in a lifetime than this girl could ever do, even if she worked at it she couldn't outslut me. But now I am retired.

My man is like my slut 401k. I am too old to work at it anymore so I just use him.
He's all I have to show for my lifetime's work.

Just goes to show, you really need to plan, early on, for retirement. If you wait too long, there won't be much left to live off of.

Edit: After reading a friend said... "I"m in the slutness protection program. Relocate and start over."

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?