Hallowen HUSTLE.

"EMERGENCY FAMILY MEETING!" I yelled as I came home from yet another Halloween store.

Emma looked up from the laptop and then over at Shane. She tilted her head twords me and yelled at him "FAMILY MEETING!"

He lifted up his huge honken headphones and replied "Huh?"

"Family Meeting." Emma replied with a bossiness that is apparently inherited from me.

"Ah. 1 sec."

We all sat on the floor of the living room and Karma squirmed on the ground in the middle. (She is such an attention whore...also inherited from me)

"This is an emergency meeting, which means we dispense with the niceties."

"Okay." Both of my children agreed, eager to find out what the emergency was.

"We have an EMERGENCY! I cannot find a peter pan hat ANYWHERE."

Emma stared at me and Shane murmured "Oooookaaaaaaaay."

"Which means that Emma cannot be Peter Pan. Which means that we cannot do our family theme, which inevitably means that my life IS RUINED!"

"Oh my god." Emma stated quite dryly.

"OHHHHH Myyyyy." Shane replied

I lay down on the ground, moaned and Karma excitedly followed suit, Rubbing herself all over the carpet and grunting quite like a pig.

"I cannot find Genie Pants for Shane! And we cannot find a single set of popeye arms either! We need to think of something else!"

Emma leaned back on her hands with her arms outstretched. "I can always be Sherlock. All I need is a brown curly wig." My mind raced, but it was not excited...not in the least. "And what about everyone else?"

"Well....you can be John Watson."

"A FAT John? No thank you."

She laughed "You can be Moriarty"

"A FAT Moriarty? My life is practically over."

"Lets see...you could be a Queen."

"Yes. I am a Queen...I could be something fabulous, I could be a roman queen....I could be a some kind of queen....I could be a...."

"Drama Queen?" Emma laughed at herself and I gave her the death stare.

"I will find something for me, you worry about you and Karma." Shane stated, and I didn't doubt it. His room is a veritable costume closet. He has every hat you could want.

"We don't have to match Ma." Emma stated and ran into her room to try out her Sherlock costume.

She looked great and it was decided, after a quick Google search on homemade pet costumes, that I would be an Egyptian Queen (of course) and Karma would be my mummy. All wrapped in bandages and the like.

By Monday I was perturbed because Emma had really wanted to be Peter Pan.

By Tuesday, someone said "Can't you just MAKE the hat. It is simple."

I smiled with grit teeth and thought to myself ...."Why yes I can, while making 37 OTHER costumes and getting home at 7:00 each night and AFTER I make dinner for my children Yes, I am sure that I can."

Instead I just grimaced and walked away, because my stress meter was reaching capacity.I went around the corner, breathed like a whale and went in search of an elbow to pinch or a turtle necklace to rub. (MY stress relievers)

Tuesday night found me in line at Hobby Lobby with a bolt of green felt and gritty eyes.

Wednesday found me with tacky glue beneath my nails and Lego boxes stacked up around me, wondering how in the hell I was going to fucking find time to make a fucking hat.

On Thursday I ran into Walmart and even though I couldn't afford it, purchased brown boots that resembled peter pan.

And on Halloween  morning at 5:00 am, I was sitting on my living room floor trying to cut out a motherfucking hat.

Karma felt my pain. She huffed at me and half rolled her eyes.

By 5:50 pm I was frantically searching for a red feather in all of the classrooms. I ran into the main building and plunked my Peter Pan hat on Juan's head. "You have to help me! Does this look like Peter Pans hat?"  It swallowed his head and stuck out in a weird way.

"Why do I know what Peter Pans hat looks like?" he asked me, pulling up the brim of the hat.

"Because you go to Disneyland a lot! You have to help me!" I moaned "If I don't finish this I will be THE WORST MOTHER EVER!"

I stood back and looked. It looked more like a pirate hat then anything pan-ish. It was horrible!

I swallowed and pulled it off of his head and plopped it on Brandee's.

Juan looked at the hat and then looked at me. He didn't have to say a word."It doesn't look like Peter Pans Hat." I stated and pulled it off of her head.

I cut it down a bit and rolled it a bit and plunked in the 2 feathers that I stole from Jen.

"It does look like it. Emma will be Happy." Brandee stated but I knew right then That I sucked ass at making Peter Pans Hat.

Once we got home, I attached it to Emma's head and I hoped she didn't notice the wonky way that it tilted. I grimaced, patted her shoulder and She smiled at me in the mirror.

I had found Pirate gear for myself and had the wings and Tu-tu for our Tinkerbell Karma in the car.
At every house we went too, I sprinkled Fairy dust behind Karma, but pretty soon my fingers were too wet and I just left clumps of the stuff on the ground.

Unfortunately Peter Pan doesn't wear glasses, so Emma stumbled and squinted in the rain. Her brother guided her to each house and stood behind her at each door. TinkerKarma howled excitedly each and every time her girl came back to her and after an hour she started to shiver, her little green tu-tu wet and limp and her once glittery wings were sodden and tilted to one side.

Halfway through the hour walk, Emma lost both of the feathers, but received a ton of candy because she was one of the only trick or treaters who knocked on the doors.

When we returned back to Brandee's house. I put Karma into the car and said goodbye to my wolf and moo who had trudged the wet night along with us.

On the drive home,  I looked at Emma in the review mirror. She sat laughing at Karma and smiling. I knew that despite the rain and the soggy bra, despite the fucked up hat and the squinting eyes, that next year this will all be another wonderful memory. It will be drawn by Emma in excruciating detail, it will be chortled over by Shane and it will be remembered by us all.

I have decided to get a shadowbox and frame my fucktard of a hat. I will put it up on my weird wall and one day Emma can tell her own kids how their Grandmother created a hat that was so retarted that it was remembered near and far.

Perhaps she will one day create a monstrosity as well, and know that the uneven cut, the giant brim and the much too small feathers, were placed on her head with a mouth full of grimace and a heart full of love.

 

 

 

 

 

We're fucked.

"AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
I omit a scream that I kid you not, incited my pitbull to scratch at her ears, my daughter to gasp and the world to FREEZE.

FREEZE in terror, and I shall tell you why.

Let's set the mood shall we?

I had a lovely day with my main midget and her Bestie.

Besides trying to locate a Walmart that has the ability to expel money into my hands (another story) We had spent the day perusing scary stores and laughing over Emma's small quips and funny antics.

My kid is funny, what can I say.

We went to 3 different Halloween stores and only left the last one when I heard a frantic grunting behind me. Frightened, I looked over my shoulder only to find a hefty lady leaning on her cart and making noises that could incite the dead.

I hate making fun of fatties, and I shant. Suffice it to say I grabbed my kids and sighed while looking up to heaven at Jesus. "Why did that just happen." I stated.

Rick swears Fat people grunt when they walk, and I hate anything that leans in his favor. This was Jesus telling me to leave the store. So I did. (without grunting)

Once we dropped off Emma's friend we went home.

Do you know that feeling that you get when you enter your most favoritest place in the world? That happy bubbly feeling of love and perfect-ness? That is how I feel every time I walk through my doors.

"Hello home!" I always say and place my purse on the proper hanger of my coat tree.

I turned the coffee pot on and picked up my book. The house was silent, save for the turtle tank bubbling so nicely, quite like a water fall. And the almost silent thrumming of the fan, sending the perfect amount of air whispering over me.

Eventually I fell asleep, curled on my favorite cream couch that is absolute heaven. It is thick and fluffy and it folds you into its cushions.

While I slept, Emma read.

When I awoke from my nap I refilled my ice tea, grabbed my book and my e-cig and settled back for some more lovely evening.

And that is when it happened.....Horror!

I had just turned the electronic page of my book when I saw it. Movement on the couch....Movement right NEXT to me......

It....

was.....

a.......

MOUSE!!!!!



"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed.

I don't know how I got across the room and up onto the sectional but I did. THIS Fat bitch flew.

I screamed and screamed and screamed some more.

I screamed while pointing to the couch.

I screamed while jumping.

I screamed while looking down at my daughter next to me, looking up at me in horror and confusion.

I screamed while shaking out my dress and holding a pillow over my mouth because I KNEW I was being crazy...but I couldn't help it.

"WHAT IS WRONG!?" Emma asked while beginning to laugh "LOOK AT YOUUU!!!!"
she pointed and laughed out loud.

I took a breath. "A MOUSEEEEEEEEEEEEE A MOUSEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ON MY COUCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Spittle flew across the room

Emma stood up, looked at the couch... looked at me and started laughing so hard she bent in half.

"A MOUSE A MOUSEEEEEEEEEE KARMA EAT IT EAT ITTTTTTT!"  At the mention of her name Karmas ears perked up.

"KARMA ATTACK!!!!!!!!" I screamed. She woofed and viciously attacked the couch pillow.
(And when I say vicious, I mean she gingerly nipped at it and drug it across the room.)

"NO KARMAAAAA EAT IT!!!!"
She nipped at the pillow again and then rolled onto her back, expecting a belly rub and an atta girl.

"Good girl Karma! You are so vicious! You saved our lives!" Emma gushed over her while I did the HOLY FUCK THERE IS A MOUSE dance.

"WHERE IS SHAAAAAANE!!!!!??? SHAAAAAAANEEEEEE" I cried.

Emma stood up. "CALM DOWN!" She ordered, but she couldn't stop laughing. "Oh my God! It was a little cute mouse."

"IT IS IN MY HOUSE AND ON MY FURNITUREEEEEEEEEEE!" I screamed

Emma walked tword the couch.

"Take a light saber!" I hollered. She grabbed one from the wall. (while rolling her eyes)
I then realized that I was letting my child get eaten by a mouse, and that is not really a good thing to do, so I gingerly got off of the sectional and ran to my heaven couch.

"OOooooh!" I huffed while standing in front of it. "OOooooh!" I moaned while removing a cushion.

With each removal I jerked the pillow off and screamed, holding my light saber over my head for maximum mouse bashing technique.

"Emma, if you see a mouse bop it!"

She stood next to the couch laughing and pointing at me. I don't think she understood the upheaval my stomach was facing.

"Lookatyooooou!" She laughed

"Laugh it up SHIT!" I grit through my teeth. THIS.WAS.HORRIBLE!

Every single luscious pillow cushion was removed and there was no mouse to bop.

We took turns beating the couch with our light sabers, each bap causing lights to flash and the sabers to omit sounds.

I turned the couch completely over. NOTHING.

We bopped it some more. Punctuating each hit with a shriek from me and a chortle from Emma.

Nothing happened, except Emma laughed even harder. "This is my FAVORITE part of the day."

"WHA.....WHY?!" I grumbled

"Look at us! We are beating our couch with light sabers! There is nothing there Ma."

"But there WAS! I saw it!"

"Ma. We have a huge field, it probably scampered inside and scampered outside again. Stop freaking out. Nothing is here."

I harrumphed and agreed that my couch was mouse free. Just incase I plugged any area of it that could be accessed by a mouse and refashioned my perfect heaven couch.

"MY life is RUUUUUUINED!" I moaned

"Oh my God. You are so dramatic. Your couch is fine! We took the whole thing apart."

"Okay Emma" I pouted and turned on BONES. I looked at Karma and growled. Her ears perked up and she rolled over.

"Aweeee she is so cute! She saved our lives! Didn't you BAY-BEE!"

Karma wiggled to and fro on her back, soaking in Emma's gratitude.

"NO! She did not save us! How sad Karma." She looked at me, turned her head to the side and I melted.

Rubbing her tummy I thanked her for saving our lives from the dreaded pillow monster.

She is now asleep at my feet, quite confident in abilities to nip a pillow and have us fawn over her.

When the Zombies come, we're fucked.

HERSELF

'Mom, can you help me pick out something for picture day?"

Several things go through my mind. The first one being: "Is this a trap?"

I don't let on that I am shocked.

My daughter and I don't exactly share the same style.

She is all ripped jeans and pink Floyd T-shirts. Converse and Rock.

I am all dresses and red lipstick.  I quite prefer things that are ALMOST ugly, but not quite.

But I don't say that, I calm my face (which is quite hard to do) and say "Of course." I cant say this with too much enthusiasm, because Emma letting me help her dress is as elusive as a silent fart while seated in a plastic chair. That shit is rare.

(.... and Emma has been dressing herself since she was 4.)

We enter her room. Teal walls and black and white everything else. Wise quotes are written on the wall with black sharpie and her art is meticulously pinned there as well.

I turn to her clothing, which is (like mine) hung up according to color.

I start to go through her clothing and pull out her Led Zeppelin White T-shirt with black 3/4 length sleeves. "I think you should wear one of your favorite T-shirts with your white converse."

I am quite happy with myself and so I smile.

She sighs and her shoulders sag. "I don't want to wear a T-shirt"

"Wha...." I look at her and then turn to her closet. "Honey, you wanted only t-shirts. Oh! Here is not a t-shirt!" and I pull out one of her plaid tops. "You can wear your plaid. I am sure on you it is not Dyke-ish!"

She shakes her head and gives me a look.

I turn back to the closet and reach waaaay WAAAAAAYin the back. I pull out a dress that should be covered in spider webs and forget-me dust. "THIS!" I announce proudly.

"NO dresses."

At this moment I am quite honestly trying not to laugh, I also think there is a learning lesson in this for her. "Babe. We have to go with our options. And yours are...Lemme see... Of Mice and Men, Pink Floyd, Green Day ...OH this one has good colors! " I say holding it up.

She shakes her disappointed head.

"Ah. Well maybe next year we shall think about this before the actual picture day. As of now...let see.." And I hold up a long sleeve top. It is grey and has black X's all over it. She puts it on.

"The cut is lovely on you. A vest would look perfect over it and several necklaces, all different lengths."

She grunts. The necklaces are too much.

"IT is HOT today."

"Yes it is, but you could always change afterwards."

*INSERT EMMA SIGH HERE ( which is tsunami-ish) Quite honestly, it makes me want to pop her head off of her body.

Instead I wait and hold everything in, because I am a mom and I am supposed to.

She decided that it is "FINE" and I begin to braid her hair to the side. At the end I put 6 thick black rubber bands in quick succession. It makes her look like a badass and I tell her so.

She nods and a smile appears on her face. A small one.

She puts on her thick black nerdy glasses (MY PICK!) and turns to go. "Hey."

She stops.

I touch her arm "You are a Queen."

She sighs "Yes MOM."

"Then act like it."

She leaves the room and I follow her as she walks spraying her with girly spray and telling her how beautiful she is.

Brandee is at the end of the hall and she looks at me over Emma's head with a bewildered look. I echo the same look back and do the whole Head shake, shoulder shrug. Which is silent speak for "I don't know what the fuck..."

She takes Emma to her stop, because I stayed home sick that day.

 

5 minutes later I get a Text from Emma: "Sorry Ma I just wanted to look pretty"

 

I respond "You are BEAUTIFUL, and your hair looks amazing. I love you."

 

"Love you too Ma."

Being a parent is tiptoeing around life lessons, but letting your child come to the conclusion themselves.  And believe me, it is hard to do.

When Emma got home that night, she decided that next year we will pick out an outfit while we shop for pictures.

I responded with "Very good idea."

It is my job to be cried upon, sighed at and ranted too and to be the person who will wait, listen and guide.

I am not in a competition with my kids over who is right and who is wrong. No parent should be. Of course we know more then they do. We are grown-ups and they are children.

I am not trying to grow Emma's faith or belief in ME, She has had that since the moment that she was born, was hungry and I fed her.

I am trying to do something even larger. I am trying to grow her belief in HERSELF.

FUCK this drought!

I am sitting on my couch, drinking my coffee when the news flashes.
It practically screams at me. "The heat returns." and I want to cut a bitch.

I cant handle this anymore, I am about to snap.

As far as I am concerned EVERYTHING is the drought fault.

Sicknesses that are everywhere. THE DROUGHT.

My hair wont curl the same.....drought.

My stomach hurting....HELLO??? My body is OBVIOUSLY reacting to the drought!


Insane murder massacres? The drought finally got to them. I cant blame them, I am about to loose it my self.

I may be slightly obsessed with it. OBVIOUSLY the end is nigh. Buy bottled water bitches, because zombism is caused by the drought. People will start to go mad and end up eating each others face off because they DARED to water their grass too long.

I will be patient ZERO and Brandees neighbor is on my face eating list.

Her grass is shiny and deep green, mostly because she waters it until water is trickling in the street as I drive up. "OHMYGOD!! LOOK AT THIS ASSHOLE!" I yell at 5:45 am

I hate her and I have never seen her. Just wait bitch. When the world ends I am going all kindsa PURGE on you....everyone will understand.

Last week when I purchased a flat of water Emma's Eyebrows raised "What are we buying this for? You love our water."

"UM HELLO! Drought!! The world is ending child. It is obvious that everyone is going to turn into Zombies and we will need water in bottles."

"You bought end of the world water?"

"Uh huh" I nod
"Okay ma."

"Laugh now, thank me later honky."

I think I am starting to scare people "Beanie I HAD to put water in my bird bath. Birds need water. There is a drought." Mandy stated to me a few weeks ago.

I nod and turn my glare to her neighbor across the street. PURGE BITCH. I think...and then I smile.

At the first sign of rain last week I was exiting the Dollar General with Brandee prior to work and I screamed at the top of my lungs "ITS RAINING!!!!!!"

I spread my arms and jumped up and down. I spun in a circle and felt the world become whole again! People slowed down and stared at me. Whatever. I don't care if it was only 7 drops of the stuff.

Not only is the world ending from the drought and the effects there of, but this heat is killing my fall wardrobe.
For instance, I have the most lovely dress that cannot be worn until the temperatures decline.

NOW the heat has gotten between myself and my lovely dress.

It is all down hill from there bitches.

The MAN Project Part 2: Surround me

The AD was placed and I closed my laptop and climbed in bed.

 I have tallied the replies and placed them into categories.

My AD received a total of 63 replies (Not including the 3 I have received this morning.)

Out of the 63 replies:

9 of them were looking for long term relationships (GAG ME) and were deleted.

 

10 of them asked me for pictures of my Vagina and were deleted.

 

28 had horrible Type-o's in them or were boring and were deleted.

 

7 included pictures of men who were butt faced and were deleted.

 

1 was just a picture of an ugly cock and was (laughed at) and deleted

 

3 were ANGRY:

 

Re: Aint nobody got time for this!

So you jst want to find somebdy that you will nt have time for? That is FUKT up!



Re: Aint nobody got time for this!

YOU WOMEN THINK YOU CAN HAVE SAY OVER EVERYTHING! FUCK YOUUUUU!



Re: Aint nobody got time for this!

You are too bossy. The only reason I am even wrting is because you used the word "whilst" and it remnds me of good writing.

1 was just sooooo (too) NICE

Your ad was so humorous and you have to give me tips on how u do the 2 miles daily, wow!  Is that on the treadmill or just plain walking? Lol @ 3 second plank. I was actually up to 1 minute planks 5-7 times once upon a time... Now, I am trying to get back into working out again after a long hiatus. 

You seem like such a good writer, are you a teacher, in IT, or CEO of a startup who takes up these projects from time to time?  What is your profession?

The "mannerism" you displayed on the ad was very welcoming, tactful, and charming. A beautiful way to entice readers to write back. 

What types of things do you like to read?  Seems to me you're a researcher like myself. You probably quote and give your references too (I am the same way). 

What movies on netflix do you like watching?  I can easily see you watching the hits from the 40s-60s with the likes of Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn in those stunning black & white movies of yesteryear. 

How old are your young ones?  You seem so mature for being 37!   You have a good head on your shoulders and I am sure a lot of people admire and love your enthusiasm for life. 

Have a superb night and sweet dreams!

1 thought I was a fan of someone and was ganking their words:

Let me guess: you're an Armstrong and Getty fan?

 

 

To which I replied....

 

Ummm. I have no idea who Armstrong and ghetti are, although I bet I could google them! *wink

 

.....and he replied.....

 

That cannot be. You've quoted Sweet Brown: the only ones repeating her message are Armstrong and Getty. You made reference to people so fat they don’t tie their shoes; that's straight from Vincent Nicolas's mouth. I'll bet that someone has had their radio show playing in the background. Either that or you have some extraordinary powers.

 

You could Google them but you'd have to be a listener to enjoy their humor and sarcasm.

 

Uuuuum Ooookay? I didn't re-reply. Obviously I have extraordinary powers of stealing sweet browns words. Whomever the fuck that is.

 

 

3 were reply worthy and were replied to.

 

The first guy was an older man who looked fun. I thought "We could hang out!" Please remember I was NOT looking to DATE. Just meet someone fun. Within a week he perved me and got a scathing reply (and deletion.)

 

The 2nd man was funny, happily married (so he couldn't perv me) and I enjoyed his conversation for a day. Then I was bored.

 

The 3rd man was HILARIOUS. I would share his email, but I feel like that would be wrong in someway. Suffice it to say, his response was well written, intelligent and interesting. BINGO. Level 1

 

 

Let me take a moment to explain my LEVEL process. Every women has one. We just call it different names.... and as for me No one really ever passes.

 

You see, my step process is hair triggered. It has a boobie trap or too built in. Men always get caught up on it. Because that is the way it has been designed.

 

SOME times it is something that my LEVELS have not been prepped for.

 

Back when I did date,  (and I use the word date loosely) I was enjoying my time with a funny, intelligent man and theeeeeeeen I found out he shaved his armpits.

 

.....It was like the whole system shut down, second by second. I could hear alarms sounding and brain waves mis-firing. As I slowly backed away with a sickened smile.

 

Shaved armpits?

Negative Ghostrider.

 

But back to the funny guy.

 

We spent a week texting back and forth and talking on the phone and after numerous declines of coffee, I finally decided to go ahead and have a "Meeting" (Not date) with him.

It is funny how well two people can vibe until they meet in real life, and as I sat across from this incredibly attractive man a few things happened that let me know that all along and in ALL of my thought processes, I was Correct.  (WHAT was I correct about?.....You'll see.)

What went wrong? Let's see...

#1. My dykes

Everyone knows that I am incredibly passionate about the GAYS. SO passionate in fact, that a lot of people think that I am a lesbian. I am not, but I have been called a lot worse things in my day so whatevs.
As we were sitting there, trying to come up with things to fill the awkward silence he brought up this subject.

"So, you have mentioned the Gays. I assume you have thoughts on this. Elaborate."

I sat there and smiled. It was like looking up at an unmovable mountain, someone who was old and set in their ways. "Yes. I am very passionate about Gay and Lesbian rights."

"Oh yeah?" he smirked

"Yeaaahhhhhhh...." My word trailed off into the same sound that the grudge makes. Simply because I didn't want to let him into my rainbow world of happiness.

Awkward silence.

"Well that's cool. You know..."

"Uh yeah. My Best friends are Lesbians, so yeah. I am kinda involved there."

"Oh yeah? Do they make out all of the time?"

"Um. Sure, about as often as anyone who has been together for 18 years does."

I let that subject fall off of the table. He was one of those people. The kind that I cant stand, who think that Gay people fuck other gay people all over the place. Like they are any different from every other person in the fucking world.
OHMYGOD...NOTHING pisses me off more.

A little later he asked if we could do an activity together.

"Suuuure?" I responded. Not overly excited

"We could do the put put golf, go to the movies, or hey! I could rent a scary movie and bring it over. You could invite the Dykes!"

I gasped. "YOU cant say that."

2. THE SHUSH

While laughing at something that he had said He leaned back, winked at me and said "Shhh!"

Now lets take a moment shall we? NOBODY shushes me. ALSO....I have a temper. One that is quick to flair and this guy just found my bitch button.

I took a moment to calm myself. I bit my lip, leaned forward over my clasped hands and narrowed my eyes  "I don't care how tall you are, or how many muscles you have. Shush me again motherfucker, and I will bring you to your knees."

He sat back against the chair and smiled at me "God damn I am turned on!" He muttered

I however, had be irrevocably turned off.



3. THE CINCHER.

While showing him a picture on my phone he could see a preview of the next one below.
"Who is that?"

"That is Rick."

"Huh." He took a drink of his soda and gave me a look.

"What?"

"Rick huh? You have talked about him before."

"Probably because he is my friend....And?"

"Nothing. Just hmm. I think there is something there." He smirked and pointed at me and then back at the phone.

I looked at the picture again and put it in front of his face "There is. His WIFE, who is sitting right next to him in the picture!"

I sat my phone down and pushed back my coffee cup. "I am tired." I declared.
This meeting was over.

We said goodbye, he claimed his kiss that he had warned me he would get and I drove away.
I sang all the way home at the top of my lungs. Happiness bubbled in my chest.

And this is where I explain how I was right all along.

I most certainly AM happy in my life with my network of loved ones, I have people that I spend each and every day with that tease me, compliment me and tell me if I am a complete and utter asshole. We laugh together, talk shit with one another and when fucked up shit happens, we catch each other.

That is life. It is love and it surrounds me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The MAN Project PART 1 ( The "Rick" and I. )

I was on the phone with a friend and I was rolling my eyes and plugging my nose.

If you have ever in your life been annoyed at someone I highly recommend that you do this, Because when you plug your nose, you simply CANNOT sigh. And while listening to my friend go on and on about how SWEET her boyfriend was, I wanted to sigh so deep and so loud that it would completely obliterate my sigh tank.

"Ohhhh he was so sweet! He paid the car payment for me!"

I wanted to scream "What do you mean FOR you, don't you BOTH work? Don't you BOTH share the same bank account?"

But I didn't. Instead I plugged my nose and sought out Rick.

"I need to ask you a question, and I want you to be honest with me."

"Ok."

"I want you to tell me if I am an asshole."

"Okaaay, what's up?"

I had come to the VERY best person to ask about assholes.
Specifically... My being one and if I needed to stop doing so.

My friend Rick sat across the table from me as I annoyingly swung my foot back and forth.
Who is Rick you ask? Well he is a dick, But he is an honest one and he dresses like a champ.
(usually)

You see I had come to the conclusion as of late, that I was being a hateful bitch to a certain 'group' of people.(Couples)

OOOOH They gross me out!  

 

UUUUUH They get on my nerves!

I have found myself  while listening to conversations involving husbands with rolling my eyes, and at the same time I could feel my throat tighten...my gag reflex...well...FLEX.

I needed an intervention, or at the very least what I needed was Rick. To fill me with the truth.

A conversation had taken place that day, and I needed to retell it, Explain my feelings and seek the TRUTH about my asshole-ness.

After re-telling the story, he looked at me as if he were waiting for the punch line.

"Ooooookay?"  (SIDENOTE: Rick says OK a lot, but never when it is profitable for me)

"Well I was annoyed! It was annoying to me!" I exclaimed

"Why?"

"Because it is stupid."

"Well, YOU may think it is stupid, but she does not."

"Okay. SO I am an asshole right?"

"Well." He leaned back in his chair and tried to find the words to use. "I can understand your feelings but I can understand why she was happy about it too."

I nodded.
I had my verdict.
I am an asshole.

"I worry that I am jaded." I confess

His lips purse and he shrugs "Maybe a little."

I thank him with sincerity and begin to think. I am worried about things.

#1. I worry about my daughter. There is rarely a day that I will NOT make a comment about how useless men are. This is not fair. I want her to have her ridiculous romantic dreams about love. (as long as she realizes that she does not need saving or rescuing,)

#2. I have sort of made my own complex network for replacing a man in my life. I shall explain:
When I need to be saved or be taken care of I go to Mandy.
When I need to laugh or whine I go to Brandee.
When I need to fight, smell a man or hear about what an asshole I am, I go to Rick.
When I need to express myself I go to my blog.
When I need most anything else I go to any number of friends.
And finally when I need sex, well I can handle that like a BOSS.

I wonder if I am actually completely happy. Can I be so complete on my own? I FEEL like I am. But am I really?

I shall do a test. I shall write an AD, place it out into the world and call it ME BEING OPEN to allowing someone the distinct honor of my attention and THEN I shall blog about it.




My Ad was as follows:

AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THIS!

Who has time to date? Or go out hunting in a club like a wild lioness trying like mad to squint through the darkness and read peoples intentions. Not I.

Is that what people do still? Go out to clubs, searching for Mr.Right quick? I don't know, and I am certainly not trying to find a soul mate, or a one night stand.
(Soul mate searching would take too much of my time, and I value my vagina too much to just fling it at random men.)

So why am I here? Hmmm. Perhaps I will find someone new and exciting to meet or text throughout the day.

About me:
I am a 37 year old woman (vagina included) who is fat. I am not a gargantuan whale, or even slightly whale-ish. Meaning I can tie my own shoes, and I do not have rolls on my knees. I am not one of those lazy fat people either. I walk 2 miles a day and even held a 3 second plank the other evening.

I am fairly attractive and have my own home. I even manage to sort of keep up on it during working hours.

I am educated and love my career immensely.

A great night to me is catching up on reading whilst sprawled in my bed. Or net flicks....Oh I enjoy a good movie.
I enjoy an alcoholic beverage from time to time, however I can also do without it.

I do not use drugs, and am horrifically opposed to the use of them. Especially Meth, but if an undead skeleton is your thing...then to each his own.

I can honestly tell you that I have no desire to be in a relationship, that I have minimal time for you and that I will always spend time with my children over you. If that is your thing hit reply.


I honestly did not think I would get many replies. But it did......

Part 2 coming soon.

Poop Enchilada.

Yesterday Nico was ratted on for calling someone a "Poop enchilada".
I had to hide my face behind a bucket of Legos so as to appear stern and adult-ish.

The child who told looked at me with disdain. (Children, while small and fartish understand when you are laughing behind objects.)

Nico sees that he has been snitched on and wanders over. The following conversation occurs:

Nico:  "Look....Can we talk?"

Me: "Shoot"

Nico " Okay I did say that. I did."

Me: "Thank you for being honest with me, What did you say Nico?"

Nico: "Well. I called him a poop enchilada"

Me (covering my face with a bucket of legos again.)

Nico: *smiling "It is funny right?"

Me: "You know what NICO....."

And then I didn't know what to say. Because YES. It was fucking hilarious that he thought it was necessary to call him an ENTIRE poop enchilada. I mean...that is creative....and I cannot lie to him... BUT Nico has poop Tourette's and everyone loves telling on him.

I am at an impasse, So instead I ignore his question....

Me: "Does your daddy want you to say poop?"

Nico: "No."

Me: "Can you tell me what made you mad enough to describe him as layers and layers of poop with cheese on top?"

Nico: "Yes. I had a whole town built and he came over and ruined it. It made me mad at him so I called him a poop enchilada."

While he says that he smiles, because he likes the sound of it in his ears.

Me: "NICO!" 

I call the child over who snitched. "Okay Nico, I can understand you being upset, Now use better words"

Nico: "I don't like that you ruined my building, how sad, rude rat!"

They walked away to play together once again and I sat at the Lego table and looked to my left. "That just happened. I just spent 10 minutes of my day negotiating poop enchiladas."

The child shrugged and smiled "It was funny."

And then I sighed with my entire body, because yes. It was.