Two great tastes that taste great together.
*ugh*
If you need me.....I'll be over here drowning my frustrations in Patron whilst I whip up some pasggetti to feed my babies.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Family Day
We've put it off as long as we can.....but today is the day. The plan is to gather at my Mother's house for burgers and dogs and to celebrate the March birthdays. Mom has cancelled the last two weekends but I think she knows we have to get together sometime.... I certainly dont blame her....we are a LOUD family! I'm thinking I could pack some foam earplugs and some xanax in the basket with the pie.....
My favorite part is when Mommy starts yelling at me and calling ME a Drama Queen.....(where does she think I learned that??)
Can you imagine Octo-Mom's house 37 years from now...the obligatory family gatherings? (provided of course that any of those kids actually talk to her once they get old enough to realize what a complete loon she is) (yeah, they probably will....I mean, MINE still do)
Also in the news today.... Jennifer Aniston dumped John Mayer over Twittering?? really? pfffft. Cmere John, you can twitter all you want, as long as you sing, like, one song a day to me.
My favorite part is when Mommy starts yelling at me and calling ME a Drama Queen.....(where does she think I learned that??)
Can you imagine Octo-Mom's house 37 years from now...the obligatory family gatherings? (provided of course that any of those kids actually talk to her once they get old enough to realize what a complete loon she is) (yeah, they probably will....I mean, MINE still do)
Also in the news today.... Jennifer Aniston dumped John Mayer over Twittering?? really? pfffft. Cmere John, you can twitter all you want, as long as you sing, like, one song a day to me.
Friday, March 27, 2009
sometimes, I even get on my own nerves
Today I'm actually trying to decide if I'm irritated or glad. I guess I can be both, right?
I have this son (I have four, but whatever) who had this girlfriend. Now mind you, I have mixed feelings about girls since my boy children started to get old enough to notice them. I feel like Bobby Boucher's momma in "Waterboy" "Girls are De DEBIL!!!!" (yes I tell my boys that...women are evil, conniving, manipulative creatures...girls have cooties....stay at least 20 feet away from all things female) And I dream that one day, when I'm ready, I will have beautiful, smart, awesome daughters in-law...but I really know that it will never happen.
But for the time being....I don't want to even think about daughters-in-law ....mostly because that kind of thinking eventually leads to *shudder* me being a grandmother.
Pause for a moment for me to explain that I have forbidden anyone in my house from contemplating reproduction until I am much, much older than I am right now....as a matter of fact, I have set a year for this...and nobody that sprang from my loins better deviate from this plan. (shaddup, don't tell me I'm foolish, let me live in my deluded bubble, it's nice here)
So, back to the tapdance at hand.....right about Christmas time...my son and this girl*sneer* parted ways. He's in school, they're hours apart, the relationship wasn't really going anywhere....it seemed the best and it seemed like an amicable parting. They even went to a dance together at the beginning of this month. Still friends, which is a good thing. (of course there's extra drama in all of this that I wont go in to any detail about, let's just leave it with I breathed several sighs of relief.)
And now that I've written that out into tangible words, I can see that today's news is indeed good. Ex-Girl got married this week. To someone else's son. 3 months after ending a 3 year relationship. To a kid who looks enough like my kid to be his brother. To a musician.
20 bucks says she's preggers.
See my problem? Why am I so nasty about this? Why can't I just be glad my kid dodged this bullet, and move along?
I have this son (I have four, but whatever) who had this girlfriend. Now mind you, I have mixed feelings about girls since my boy children started to get old enough to notice them. I feel like Bobby Boucher's momma in "Waterboy" "Girls are De DEBIL!!!!" (yes I tell my boys that...women are evil, conniving, manipulative creatures...girls have cooties....stay at least 20 feet away from all things female) And I dream that one day, when I'm ready, I will have beautiful, smart, awesome daughters in-law...but I really know that it will never happen.
But for the time being....I don't want to even think about daughters-in-law ....mostly because that kind of thinking eventually leads to *shudder* me being a grandmother.
Pause for a moment for me to explain that I have forbidden anyone in my house from contemplating reproduction until I am much, much older than I am right now....as a matter of fact, I have set a year for this...and nobody that sprang from my loins better deviate from this plan. (shaddup, don't tell me I'm foolish, let me live in my deluded bubble, it's nice here)
So, back to the tapdance at hand.....right about Christmas time...my son and this girl*sneer* parted ways. He's in school, they're hours apart, the relationship wasn't really going anywhere....it seemed the best and it seemed like an amicable parting. They even went to a dance together at the beginning of this month. Still friends, which is a good thing. (of course there's extra drama in all of this that I wont go in to any detail about, let's just leave it with I breathed several sighs of relief.)
And now that I've written that out into tangible words, I can see that today's news is indeed good. Ex-Girl got married this week. To someone else's son. 3 months after ending a 3 year relationship. To a kid who looks enough like my kid to be his brother. To a musician.
20 bucks says she's preggers.
See my problem? Why am I so nasty about this? Why can't I just be glad my kid dodged this bullet, and move along?
Saturday, March 7, 2009
I've got this one good nerve left...
...and it's in sad shape, that nerve is.
I used to have millions of them, happy, strong, resilient little nerves, all bundled up together throughout my sweet, perky personality. I could take anything the world threw at me, give it a sequined t-shirt and some scented markers and make it work for me.
Then I had all these kids, 20 years of marriage to their father, various and assorted jobs taking orders from MORONS., 3o-mumblemumble years of my mother, the best nerve twanger in the business...
each nerve reached the last pluck of its stress test *SPROING!!!!!* that one's done! *SPROING!!* there goes another...damn, that's the one that let me hang out people who don't brush their teeth regularly....that's gonna suck. Kids writing on the walls with my scented markers...that depleted the stockpiles something fierce. Almost as bad as when a kid started driving. The Jack Daniels drowned several hundreds of really cute little Church-y nerves. All the things I would never say in front of a Man of the Cloth, because I was such a good little Child of God.......well....it's really best if I avoid that scenario. Someone is going to burst into flame.
So, here I am, with this one tough, apparently Teflon coated nerve left, the one that seems to be directly connected to my Inner Bitch. It's tough, but it's easily set to vibrating, and when it does, the effect is magnified until I am compelled to either 1. throw sharp things through the air 2. throw nice glass things into a wall or a floor where the glass will shatter against something and make a very satisfying crash or 3. Open my big mouth and say what I'm seething to the offending party's face, possibly creating a dangerous environment for myself , as I am just little and I fight like a girl. or 4. I can just gripe about it here, hoping you will read, and either seethe along with me, or laugh and be entertained. Or both reactions at once would be neat too.
I'm coming down off a Clearance Sale High right now. I spent the day shopping with my mom and my sis-in-law and we had a fabulous day and I got amazing sale prices. So, I'm not feeling too, too gripey. Plus the Ambien is kicking in, and at this point I'm typing in stuff I probably wont even remember tomorrow.
there was ONE tiny thing that tiptoes across The Nerve tonight....
We girls had supper at that restaurant with the round vinyl record representing their business...and the waitresses were all adorable young women dressed in the super teeny tiny miniskirts and tight tops. (does no one's mother teach them about girdles anymore? I thought this was the generation of the Spanx?)(I'd be happy if I could see that you just making an EFFORT to suck in the belly) (I had four babies, if I can suck in my gut, there's no reason a bubbly little girl who can't legally buy a cocktail shouldn't) What twanged the nerve (beyond the dunlaps) was that the young MEN who were waiting tables in the same restaurant, were dressed in knice fitting slacks and button up shirts. Not form fitting, no sly skin revealed, no muffin tops bulging from waistbands. I am holding back from a full on rant about this, because, for all I know, those girls met en masse and took a vote and decided they wanted to wear the tight shorty skirts and shirts tight enough to see who's an inny and who's an outie, and who's brave enough to get their navel pierced. God knows I love all women in the Sisterly sense, women of every race and creed, size and socio-economic background. I'm not saying a big girl should not wear form fitting and sexy clothes. I'm just saying she should not wear her baby niece's size 4t tshirt when she's hauling around some double Ds. But if she really needs to, then she should suck in some extra bits and stuff them inside a Spanx.
and just so yanno....OUR server had her chit put together, she looked clean and well groomed and her clothes fit her as if she really did look at the size tags when she shopped. More importantly, she was an excellent server, very conscientious, communicating from the kitchen any minor delays, making sure our glasses stayed full, and our condiments stayed replenished. That chickie has fabulous people skills!
I used to have millions of them, happy, strong, resilient little nerves, all bundled up together throughout my sweet, perky personality. I could take anything the world threw at me, give it a sequined t-shirt and some scented markers and make it work for me.
Then I had all these kids, 20 years of marriage to their father, various and assorted jobs taking orders from MORONS., 3o-mumblemumble years of my mother, the best nerve twanger in the business...
each nerve reached the last pluck of its stress test *SPROING!!!!!* that one's done! *SPROING!!* there goes another...damn, that's the one that let me hang out people who don't brush their teeth regularly....that's gonna suck. Kids writing on the walls with my scented markers...that depleted the stockpiles something fierce. Almost as bad as when a kid started driving. The Jack Daniels drowned several hundreds of really cute little Church-y nerves. All the things I would never say in front of a Man of the Cloth, because I was such a good little Child of God.......well....it's really best if I avoid that scenario. Someone is going to burst into flame.
So, here I am, with this one tough, apparently Teflon coated nerve left, the one that seems to be directly connected to my Inner Bitch. It's tough, but it's easily set to vibrating, and when it does, the effect is magnified until I am compelled to either 1. throw sharp things through the air 2. throw nice glass things into a wall or a floor where the glass will shatter against something and make a very satisfying crash or 3. Open my big mouth and say what I'm seething to the offending party's face, possibly creating a dangerous environment for myself , as I am just little and I fight like a girl. or 4. I can just gripe about it here, hoping you will read, and either seethe along with me, or laugh and be entertained. Or both reactions at once would be neat too.
I'm coming down off a Clearance Sale High right now. I spent the day shopping with my mom and my sis-in-law and we had a fabulous day and I got amazing sale prices. So, I'm not feeling too, too gripey. Plus the Ambien is kicking in, and at this point I'm typing in stuff I probably wont even remember tomorrow.
there was ONE tiny thing that tiptoes across The Nerve tonight....
We girls had supper at that restaurant with the round vinyl record representing their business...and the waitresses were all adorable young women dressed in the super teeny tiny miniskirts and tight tops. (does no one's mother teach them about girdles anymore? I thought this was the generation of the Spanx?)(I'd be happy if I could see that you just making an EFFORT to suck in the belly) (I had four babies, if I can suck in my gut, there's no reason a bubbly little girl who can't legally buy a cocktail shouldn't) What twanged the nerve (beyond the dunlaps) was that the young MEN who were waiting tables in the same restaurant, were dressed in knice fitting slacks and button up shirts. Not form fitting, no sly skin revealed, no muffin tops bulging from waistbands. I am holding back from a full on rant about this, because, for all I know, those girls met en masse and took a vote and decided they wanted to wear the tight shorty skirts and shirts tight enough to see who's an inny and who's an outie, and who's brave enough to get their navel pierced. God knows I love all women in the Sisterly sense, women of every race and creed, size and socio-economic background. I'm not saying a big girl should not wear form fitting and sexy clothes. I'm just saying she should not wear her baby niece's size 4t tshirt when she's hauling around some double Ds. But if she really needs to, then she should suck in some extra bits and stuff them inside a Spanx.
and just so yanno....OUR server had her chit put together, she looked clean and well groomed and her clothes fit her as if she really did look at the size tags when she shopped. More importantly, she was an excellent server, very conscientious, communicating from the kitchen any minor delays, making sure our glasses stayed full, and our condiments stayed replenished. That chickie has fabulous people skills!
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