Wednesday, September 11, 2019

Breaking News: I Have No Self Control

jk....that's not news at all.

It kinda feels like my brain is taking a warm bubble bath right the rip of a space-time continuum that is made up of macaroni and cheese, velcro sounds and SOCIAL MEDIA, BITCHES!  I am back in the world of the living.  I am feeling a little excited, but mostly very lame.  And this actually happened a couple of weeks ago, but I have been too busy mindlessly scrolling to even write about it.

In other news, I got a text today from one of those number neighbor people.  You know, like, when someone with the same number as you, but one number off texts and is like, "we are number neighbors!"  I didn't respond, but look what a couple of other number neighbor people responded with.  Brutal.  I love my neighborhood.


Monday, September 09, 2019

Day ?? What day is it even...I'm falling apart

Got in a fight with my 8 year old daughter about how to pronounce the word "Furniture."  She won.  I'll be calling it "FRUNinture" from here on out to avoid having any more fights about how to pronounce the word fruniture. 

Parenting laziness level: 100

Thursday, August 22, 2019

Day 5

Almost got eaten by an elevator.

Monday, August 19, 2019

Anna Should Take a Social Media Break

Anna is 8.
Anna Tik Toks.
Anna asked me how to spell "Brother" the other day.
Not sure she knows what brother means in this context.
Anna should probably have a social media break too.
Unless she can find a generous 8-figure brother (that's her type).

Thursday, August 15, 2019

Day 3

Forgot to unplug my Twitter.


Day 2

We are going to Day 2.  Day 1 was spent blankly staring at and clicking on the fb and IG icons on my phone, only to have them ask for a login and remind me that I am no longer connected to the world of the living.  GRIM AF, YOU GUYS.

Day 2 I decided I was gonna prank call some mfs.  The first one went off beautifully.  It went like this:

Person: Hello
Me: Knock Knock
Person: Who's there?
Me: To
Person: To Who?
Me: Actually, it's "To Whom"

and then I laughed pretty much uncontrollably in their ear, slammed the phone down and rubbed my hands together.  OOOOOOOO I got them so good.  

I immediately got a text: Did you just call me?


Since my favorite joke went so smoothly the first time, I decided to do it again, but this time target someone who I have never spoken with on the phone.  Her name is Danielle and I work out with her.  We also work for the same company so tracking down her number was pretty easy.  She has also called me a shitbag a couple of times so I figured she'd be a good one.  It went like this:

Danielle: Hello
Me: Knock knock
Danielle: Huh?
Me: Kock knock
Danielle: Who's there?
Me: To
Danielle: TO???
Me:  Yes, to.
Danielle:  TO???
Me: Ugh. Do you know how a knock knock joke works?? Knock Knock
Danielle: Ugh.  Who's there?
Me: To
Danielle (obviously irritated): TO. TO WHO?
Me: Actually it's "To Whom"

And then I hung up.  It did not go smoothly.  At all.  I'm probably going to get reported to HR.
But maybe she wouldn't recognize my voice, right? I mean, she's pretty much only heard me cackling and grunting at work outs so there is, like, no way she is going to know that was me.

I showed up at bootcamp that night and while I was walking up, still 30' from me, she yelled out, "HEY SHITBAG! Did you call me today???"

I hate my voice.

UPDATE:  I made it to fb, y'all.  Without even being on fb, y'all.

Social Media, Bye

I deactivated my Facebook and Instagram accounts the other day because I was spending too much time distracting myself with them when I was supposed to be working, driving, doing my kid's kindergarten homework for him, making sarcastic remarks to my husband about his cooking/laundry/sexual prowess, inspecting my dog's tumor/my aerolae/fruit that has been in the fridge for more than 6 months, ETC.

and Oh My God, I am BORED AF now.

Part of this is good, see, because it is making me realize that I have been being sucked into a mindless tunnel with walls decorated in dumb memes and pictures of people's lives that are soooooo----->ooooo much better than mine.  Part of it is bad, see, because now I have to come up with other shit to distract myself with...because I am certainly not emotionally ready to handle all of the stuff I mentioned doing in the first paragraph.

AND LOOK WHAT I FOUND, Y'ALL!  A blog nobody reads anymore.

So I am going to document my social media break here so that I can remember what slumming it is like when I inevitably log back onto fb/IG in a couple of weeks (or, more realistically, in an hour or so).

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

You like that, mat?

I have been working out for awhile now and my fitness mat is terribly funky.  It's dirty and falling apart and kind of smells like salty feet.  So I got a new mat the other day.  I was VERY excited about it.  I went down on it to do push ups and said, "Hi, sexy mat.  We are going to get so dirty together." and then I pretended to make out with it because my friend was next to me.  I kept on saying rude shit to it throughout the workout like, and such as, "You like that, mat?  There's more where that came from" and "You smell so good, mat, it's making me crazy" and "I'm sweating so bad.  Sorry, mat." etc.
Well, later that evening, I got a friend request from a guy.  I went to look at his pictures and realized he was the guy on the other side of me at the work out.  His name is Matt.  So........does this mean we are dating now?

Thursday, February 11, 2016

I'm Making Friends, Guys!!!

Last night I was up until midnight making motherfucking Valentines to send with my 2 year old to give to his 2 year old classmates who really couldn't give a crap about a superhero lollipop...all of that hand-cramping love (horrible tedious masks and capes) will just be an obstacle impeding their fat little clumsy hands from getting to the sugar.  Whatever.  Here's a picture.  Ok, I am kinda proud of that shit considering that last year I just bought some pre-made choo choo train ones and addressed them all to "My Friend."

Speaking of friends, I made a new one recently.  Her name is Kelly.  We met at a book club and quickly decided we were going to ditch those other dicks so we could talk about laser hair removal and her crush on/my horrible fear of Robert Stack.  Not really, they were all lovely, but somehow we are now the only two members in the book club.  Whatever.  I TAKE THAT AS A COMPLIMENT.

I am not great at making friends.  Example #1.  I tried for 15 minutes to get my kid to say the word backhoe to my neighbor because it sounds exactly like he's saying butthole while she tried to subtly find chores for her daughter to do out of the room...far, far away from the 37 year old woman who thinks the word butthole is hilarious.  It is.  Example #2.   Same neighbor was asking if I'd seen Neighbor 3's two cats.  "Oh my GOD!" I exclaim! "I think [Neighbor 4] shot them today!" and then followed it with "hahahaha."  I laugh when I am uncomfortable.

So Kelly and I took our children to a place around here where the kids can participate in various science experiments. We imagined walking in, sitting in chairs and discussing puffy areolae/puffy pubic bones and how Keith Morrison kinda reminds me of my grandmother in a really good way, while our kids hung out with professional scientists who learned them some science.  Nope.  We quickly discovered that WE were supposed to be the professionals and follow instructions in a notebook at various stations.  So we decide to make some kind of slime out of glue, water and borax. It looked exactly like white slime. It got everywhere I went into sad-clown-trying-to-cheer-kid-up mode and, with exaggerated movements, turned to Kelly, threw some of it onto my chest and face and pretending to be in college and call out to a gentleman leaving my house, "wait! where are you going? can i get your number?" Then I started laughing which quickly turned into sobs.

So instead of a relaxing time sitting on our behinds talking about the existence of Bigfoot and how MTV Jenna's ass makes me feel bad about myself, I spent an exhausting hour reading manuals and realizing that my dreams of becoming smart would never happen. Kelly seemed to have her shit together enough to figure out how to work both the fog machine and a microscope without the assistance of a kindergartner.

There was also some mom-on-mom crime that occurred only a couple of hours later. We handled it. That mom won't be tattling on anyone else's kids for a long time.


Monday, February 16, 2015

feelin crappy

I'm feeling really shitty lately. I haven't felt this shitty since I saved a goose foot from a hunting trip when I was eight and kept it in my jewelry box with the spinning ballerina and then brought it to show and tell three weeks later and it started stinking up the classroom and my teacher made me throw it away in front of everyone.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Conversation in the bathroom at a dive bar in my hometown

Me:  (to myself) This stall won't lock

Stranger: (from the other stall) You got to pull up on that shit!

Me:  Ok, it worked.  Thanks!

Stranger:  It ain't like it gon prevent nobody from bustin in and whippin yo ass!

Me: (peeing) well, I sure hope that won't happen.  That could get messy.

Stranger: Guh!  If somebody start whoopin yo ass when you on a turlet, your piss and shit will stop.

Me:  why would anyone want to beat me up when I am on the toilet?

Stranger:  Guh! I just got out the pin-tin-churry.  That shit happen!

Me: (coming out of the stall to wash my hands next to her)  I don't think I would be able to fight back.

Stranger: (incredulous) YOU A PUSSY?

Me:  Kind of.

Stranger:  No. You got to defend yo-self! If somebody bust that do' open and start whoppin yo ass, you just gon let em beat yo ass?  While you shittin???

Me:  I just want people to like me.

Stranger:  Dumb ass white girl.  I ain't got time for this shit.

aaaaaand scene.

Monday, October 08, 2012

The one where you come hang out at my house with my high school friends and we spend the whole time talking about people and teachers you don't know

I was browsing facebook the other night and found this posted:

Calling all past Drill Team members. Oct 12th will be the 25th anniversary of its start. Sheila wants past members to come out to the WHS football game to reunite and possibly do the fight song on the field. Let Julie know who all can make it out. No inappropriate dancing! We are LADIES!

I am not one of those people who thinks high school was the best time of my life. I was a drama nerd and a misfit and served a short stints in band, in the color guard and on the drill team.

When I read that post on facebook, my immediate thought was hell no.  I haven't seen these people in 15 years and most of the memories I have had to do with me being grounded whether it be by my parents or by the school.  Then the comments started rolling in and I started remembering the good times.  Also, the times that were not good at the time, but since the statute of limitations has passed, have become amusing.

I was a horrible person to Sheila, the Director.  I honestly feel terrible about it now.  She wanted so badly for all of us to be ladies and shake the typical whore core connotation that goes along with dance teams.  She picked songs for us to dance to like the Flintstones theme and Smoke on the Water, but we got to pick our stretching music which was, almost always something by the Beastie Boys or radio edits of NWA.  Of course, the stretching would sometimes turn into a competition for who could get their ass to pop the most or who could stick their boobs out the farthest.  Ms. Shiela would shake her fingers ferociously and threaten demerits and we would be like, "What??  WE'RE STRETCHING!  GOD!" Eye roll. "what? we are stretching our eyes. god...."

During practice, me and a few of my pastiest friends would hang out in the back of the gym and learn how to dirty dance from this black girl named Patricia.  She taught us how to do The Granny (one hand on hip, one hand on knee, hump air violently) and the The Dog (both hands on bleacher or bumper or ground if necessary, bend knees, hump air violently).   Sheila busted me doing the dog in the stands during one of our home games and I got grounded for the next two games which was so lame.  However, I could not shake the feeling of pride and street cred oozing from my pores as the black girl on the drill team screamed, "Go white girl!"  It was worth it.

During Friday night football games, we got third quarter off and had to be back promptly for fourth.  I was habitually late either from smoking cigarettes, stuffing my face with nachos or stuffing my face with some loser (retrospectively) in the parking lot.  I kept my hymen til college and was a professional tease, but I REALLY liked kissing.  One time I came back late, my french braid amess and my giant red bow askew, holding the hand of some undesireable and Ms. Sheila pulled me to the side and said we were not allowed to hold hands with boys while in uniform.  This meant no kissing!  This meant no sneaking out to the parking lot to hop on some dudes tailgate and swig from his bottle of Goldschlager while he unsuccessfully tried to finger me through my orange-hued dance tights!  She was single-handedly ruining my life!  This was BULLSHIT!  So I quit my senior year. 

Now that I am older, I am remembering this with fondness instead of that crawl-under-a-rock feeling I had about it once I graduated and realized what a little slut bag hellion I was.  So now I think I am going to go to that game on Friday night.  Sheila will probably shit her pants as soon as she sees my face, but I will only do the dog when her back is to me.  If I have learned one thing over all these years, it is how not to get caught.  I'm looking forward to meeting up with these girls I had shennanigans with and seeing what kind of women they've become.  And hopefully, Ryan will turn down his tailgate for me!!