Well, well, well old friends...we meet again. SMILF and BOTB got me all nostalgic when I saw their posts pop up in my google reader and made me want to hop on this bandwagon once again. Ok, enough reminiscing...on to the goods.
There is an issue we must discuss. It is cellulite. It is disgusting and horrible and something I think about at least once a day. I have it. It is a problem. Now, I will say this about myself... I am a little bit (ok a LOT bit) body conscious. This does not mean that I think I'm fat or gross or have an eating disorder anything schizo like that. It means that I value health and fitness. It means that I think about what I put in my body (that means food...get your head out of the gutter, BOTB). It means that I exercise at least 5 days a week. I work hard.
That being said...I also have DNA which has come from my parents and their parents. Unfortch for me, my mom, all of her sisters and her mom and probably her sisters and mom and so on... all have cellulite. From the heaviest sister to the skinniest of minnies, they all have it. So obviously, yours truly would also be on the recieving of this genetic masterpiece. And now at my ripe age of - well let's just say I'm CLINGING to my twenties - a few dimples have developed juuuuuust under my booty and I must say, the rest of my thighs aren't looking as taut as they once did. I know there is no cure, but I also know that Jennifer Aniston and Kim Kardashian and probably a million and fifty other American women have it...but we don't see it. I need to know how to solve this problem. Jennfier...what is your secret?
So, rant complete. I know that I am thin, so I don't need people to reinforce that to me (like every friend I have does constantly "Oh stop, you weigh like, two pounds") and I realize that if I stopped talking about it, surely no one would notice. But we women LOVE to hilight our flaws. So there's mine for the day.
It's great to be back. WOW that felt good!
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Bye Bye Bye Blogger
Well blogger isn't working out for us, Wifezilla HTML incompetents, so we're moving to our own domain. Gonna get some nerds to do the work for us. Come visit us y'all. Peace out.
http://thewifezilladiaries.com
http://thewifezilladiaries.com
SAHW: Diarrhea or Constipation?
I am in the middle of a shit storm right now.
I will be the happiest person on earth after Mr. and Mrs. Pibb get married. You think they'll be happy? Au contraire. I'LL BE HAPPY! Their happiness won't compare to mine. At the end of the night, they'll be man and wife BUT I'll be done with this bridesmaid bullshit!
Latest update: bachelorette party.
Maid of honor MIA. Bridesmaid#2 backed out. Bridesmaid#1 (me) needs a straitjacket.
Will there be diarrhea of the mouth or do I plug up and not say a word?
(Actually let's be real. It would be more than just one word. It will probably be many words that start with f and end in -uck or some other various colorful FUCKING counterpart. Oops did I forget to say "ear muffs"?)
Kill me now.
I will be the happiest person on earth after Mr. and Mrs. Pibb get married. You think they'll be happy? Au contraire. I'LL BE HAPPY! Their happiness won't compare to mine. At the end of the night, they'll be man and wife BUT I'll be done with this bridesmaid bullshit!
Latest update: bachelorette party.
Maid of honor MIA. Bridesmaid#2 backed out. Bridesmaid#1 (me) needs a straitjacket.
Will there be diarrhea of the mouth or do I plug up and not say a word?
(Actually let's be real. It would be more than just one word. It will probably be many words that start with f and end in -uck or some other various colorful FUCKING counterpart. Oops did I forget to say "ear muffs"?)
Kill me now.
SMILF: Thank You Rhythm Nation
Last night Sydney came busting in the front door.
“We were just listening to Rhythm Nation!”
After I busted out my oh-so-cool Rhythm Nation moves in my head I said, “You mean the old Rhythm Nation, like Janet Jackson?”
She looked at me like I had just spoken Greek to her – “Who??”
Thanks. I feel old now.
But when Robert came in I knew I could make myself feel young again.
“So, I heard you guys were listening to Rhythm Nation on the way here – I totally used to rock out to that.”
He laughed and said, “Yeah, me too!”
I said, “The only difference is that you were probably rocking out to it in your car while driving while I was merely rocking out to my lavender Barbie “boombox” in my bedroom filled with stuffed animals.”
“Yup, a new 1988 red Beretta…I was so cool.”
“I was so eight years old.”
Thanks. I feel much younger again now.
“We were just listening to Rhythm Nation!”
After I busted out my oh-so-cool Rhythm Nation moves in my head I said, “You mean the old Rhythm Nation, like Janet Jackson?”
She looked at me like I had just spoken Greek to her – “Who??”
Thanks. I feel old now.
But when Robert came in I knew I could make myself feel young again.
“So, I heard you guys were listening to Rhythm Nation on the way here – I totally used to rock out to that.”
He laughed and said, “Yeah, me too!”
I said, “The only difference is that you were probably rocking out to it in your car while driving while I was merely rocking out to my lavender Barbie “boombox” in my bedroom filled with stuffed animals.”
“Yup, a new 1988 red Beretta…I was so cool.”
“I was so eight years old.”
Thanks. I feel much younger again now.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
SMILF: Awkward Situation
Yesterday afternoon my friend and I went for a walk (we took a “smoke break” – how about THEM apples?) We got all caught up on each other’s crazy lives as well as the latest company gossip. But when the following conversation occurred it left me with a “shit, wish I wouldn’t have heard that” feeling.
“So, if you knew that one of your friend’s husband’s was…um…unhappy or talking about stuff….”
“Like what are you trying to say here? Like talking about divorce, another woman, what??”
“Yeah, so let’s say that I heard that Robert was talking to someone about how you guys were having problems and he was offering himself up to go out with other women….would you want to know about that?”
After she confirmed for me that this was NOT my husband (geez bitch, can you get to that point early on in the conversation please…thaaaanks) she went on to tell me that a friend of hers had overheard a coworker of hers saying, “Yeah, my ex-fiancé told me the other day that he is having lots of problems with his family and his wife right now and he told me that if I ever wanted to hang out to let him know.” As it turns out, this woman is the ex-fiancée of our friend’s husband. This woman had no reason to just spout that off as she had no idea it would get back to anyone who knows our friend.
My point was that we shouldn’t tell our friend we heard this unless we had cold hard evidence that he was cheating on her or was for sure doing something that we felt was disrespectful to her. I am a big believer in normally not getting involved in other people’s relationships because you do not know the circumstances and I don’t feel like it’s my business. However, if I am out somewhere and I see one of my friends being cheated on or something, damn straight I am going to pick up my phone at that very moment (right after I go and kick him hard in the junk with my 4 inch stilettos). I’ve had it happen to me before (not Robert obviously) and I was glad that my friend called me and told me.
So now basically we have this awkward feeling around our friend (who has been acting weird lately anyway…hmm….) because we feel like we know something we shouldn’t know but don’t have enough evidence to say something to her. What do you do in these situations? Do you tell, do you not tell, do you wait like I am until I know 100% sure something is going on? We are just weirded out now.
I need to take “smoke breaks” more often. No wonder people do it so much if they get this good of gossip!
“So, if you knew that one of your friend’s husband’s was…um…unhappy or talking about stuff….”
“Like what are you trying to say here? Like talking about divorce, another woman, what??”
“Yeah, so let’s say that I heard that Robert was talking to someone about how you guys were having problems and he was offering himself up to go out with other women….would you want to know about that?”
After she confirmed for me that this was NOT my husband (geez bitch, can you get to that point early on in the conversation please…thaaaanks) she went on to tell me that a friend of hers had overheard a coworker of hers saying, “Yeah, my ex-fiancé told me the other day that he is having lots of problems with his family and his wife right now and he told me that if I ever wanted to hang out to let him know.” As it turns out, this woman is the ex-fiancée of our friend’s husband. This woman had no reason to just spout that off as she had no idea it would get back to anyone who knows our friend.
My point was that we shouldn’t tell our friend we heard this unless we had cold hard evidence that he was cheating on her or was for sure doing something that we felt was disrespectful to her. I am a big believer in normally not getting involved in other people’s relationships because you do not know the circumstances and I don’t feel like it’s my business. However, if I am out somewhere and I see one of my friends being cheated on or something, damn straight I am going to pick up my phone at that very moment (right after I go and kick him hard in the junk with my 4 inch stilettos). I’ve had it happen to me before (not Robert obviously) and I was glad that my friend called me and told me.
So now basically we have this awkward feeling around our friend (who has been acting weird lately anyway…hmm….) because we feel like we know something we shouldn’t know but don’t have enough evidence to say something to her. What do you do in these situations? Do you tell, do you not tell, do you wait like I am until I know 100% sure something is going on? We are just weirded out now.
I need to take “smoke breaks” more often. No wonder people do it so much if they get this good of gossip!
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
SAHW: That's not in my job description
You wanna know the single most reason why I AM OVER WEDDINGS...?
I can't get away from them!!!
My friends, soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Pibb are getting married this summer and I am in their wedding. Don't get me wrong. It's a complete honor (at least that's what I keep telling myself) but remember what I said about weddings before? Something happens. The world stops for the bride and she lives in a bubble. Within that bubble is her own reality and she has no FREAKING CLUE what is going on in the outside world. Sensibility and manners just go out the window!
Her bachelorette party is quickly approaching and for some reason I am the one who got stuck with planning this shit. Uh excuse me?? I am not the Maid of Honor. I am the bridesmaid. This isn't in my job description. Isn't this the Maid of Honor's job? Isn't that why she got the coveted title, she gets to wear something different than the other bridesmaids, why she gets to stand next to the bride on her wedding day?
You know what really makes me cringe? When brides "expect" things from their bridesmaids. I booked Mrs. Pibb's massage and emailed her to let her know that it was all taken care of. Isn't that what good little bridesmaids do? She promptly emails me, directs me to the website and the most expensive massage as the one she wants. WHAT.THE.FUCK?? Do I look like I am made of money? You're the one that got the 1 carat engagement ring, not me!
I realize that being a bridesmaid costs money. I get that. I was a bride before but maybe my expectations of my bridesmaids were a little lower: buy the dress, buy the shoes, celebrate my last night of singleness with me affording what you can (Shit I even paid for my Matron of Honor's spa day because she didn't have the fundage) and stand by me on my wedding day. I NEVER MADE DEMANDS! After reading her email I didn't know what to say.
And the cherry on top is that the Maid of Honor never returned my phone call.
2x.
I can't get away from them!!!
My friends, soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Pibb are getting married this summer and I am in their wedding. Don't get me wrong. It's a complete honor (at least that's what I keep telling myself) but remember what I said about weddings before? Something happens. The world stops for the bride and she lives in a bubble. Within that bubble is her own reality and she has no FREAKING CLUE what is going on in the outside world. Sensibility and manners just go out the window!
Her bachelorette party is quickly approaching and for some reason I am the one who got stuck with planning this shit. Uh excuse me?? I am not the Maid of Honor. I am the bridesmaid. This isn't in my job description. Isn't this the Maid of Honor's job? Isn't that why she got the coveted title, she gets to wear something different than the other bridesmaids, why she gets to stand next to the bride on her wedding day?
You know what really makes me cringe? When brides "expect" things from their bridesmaids. I booked Mrs. Pibb's massage and emailed her to let her know that it was all taken care of. Isn't that what good little bridesmaids do? She promptly emails me, directs me to the website and the most expensive massage as the one she wants. WHAT.THE.FUCK?? Do I look like I am made of money? You're the one that got the 1 carat engagement ring, not me!
I realize that being a bridesmaid costs money. I get that. I was a bride before but maybe my expectations of my bridesmaids were a little lower: buy the dress, buy the shoes, celebrate my last night of singleness with me affording what you can (Shit I even paid for my Matron of Honor's spa day because she didn't have the fundage) and stand by me on my wedding day. I NEVER MADE DEMANDS! After reading her email I didn't know what to say.
And the cherry on top is that the Maid of Honor never returned my phone call.
2x.
BOTB: Marriage is all about give and take
Before I get to the meat of this story, the part that will have you rolling on the floor pissing your pants let me first tell you about Stink and I the early years ...
We were best friends before we started dating. He was an anal retentive clean freak and in return for him cleaning my room, I made him dinner. I also got paid in weed every week to do his laundry. It was the good life. I love to cook, but hate to clean and laundry isn't so bad when you're stoned out of your mind. This perfect, happy way of life continued after our relationship started, but then, it stopped.
Fast forward to today. We're married. We no longer give a shit about impressing each other and worst of all, I broke my top of the line husband aka maid. We now play little games to see who will gave first as the mountain of dishes takes over our sink and our apartment is in a perpetual state of looking like a tornado just swept through. I never thought I would say this, but I'm tired of the mess and I want my cleaner bee husband back.
Enter in the 3am deal. Stink wants more sex, I want more cleaning. So what does any good couple capable of reaching a compromise do? We make a deal. In exchange for an pristine apartment and a sink full of nothing but shine, I, in turn, am required to provide sex twice a week and one BJ. I'm pretty sure Stink got the short end of the stick because while I'm often too lazy to have sex at least I enjoy it. If you enjoy cleaning you're certifiably crazy.
Enter our Mid Day Gchat
Left unedited for your viewing pleasure
Stink: so im guessing you were serious about our little deal last night?
im surprised you broke down so soon, only 1 year of me not cleaning and your
ready to give up the jewels eh?
looks like my plan worked perfectly!
im so pumped to start cleaning when i get home
you have no idea
me: asshole
Stink: ?
i just joking around
no need to be offended
..
?
hello?
me: sorry
i was doing something
Stink: oh
i thought you were super pissed
:)
me: no
i need to have all dishes done and the bedroom picked up before you start getting any nookie though
Stink: ic
me: you already got some once this week
Stink: did I now
me: and frankly i don't trust you
Stink: that was last week sweetie
:)
ha you dont trust me says the woman of broken promises
me: it was in the last 7 days sweetie
Stink: i think you owe me like 30 bjs
me: um those few you got a couple weeks ago more than make up for those
each one was easily worth 10 bjs
Stink: ?
you mean the new position? I will give you credit for that
it was hot
ok ok we are even for now
but you better bet your ass im getting you naked and doing dirty things to you by the end of the week
i think you forget how much of a motivator my penis is
me: lmao
hey you clean you'll get some sweet loving
Stink: ive been telling you for months if you want me to clean, give my crotch some
attention
its not rocket science, didn't they teach you that in "How to handle men 101"
me: I guess I forgot that part
Stink: ha
me: then again most men are like me ... they don't clean
Stink: study harder next time
yeah
well you bought one that used to
and then you broke him
me: i think that part wasn't really in the class
Stink: orly
i was pretty sure it was under "how to use sex to get what you want" on the syllabus
me: i know my fucking husband is a defective model ... you think I can get my money
back?
Stink: nope
all sales are final
me: ahhhh ok I remember that part
Stink: you can just dispose of him
no special permit required
just get your stamp from family court
aka divorce
:P
me: you think you'd make good fertilizer for my veggies if i disposed of you in the back
yard?
Stink: alimony not guaranteed
um nope
human body has too much acid in it
me: wtf of course I get alimony
i have to put up with your shit
Stink: you need to wait until i dry out a bit
me: i deserve millions for that
Stink: ha
lets not get started on what i deserve......
We were best friends before we started dating. He was an anal retentive clean freak and in return for him cleaning my room, I made him dinner. I also got paid in weed every week to do his laundry. It was the good life. I love to cook, but hate to clean and laundry isn't so bad when you're stoned out of your mind. This perfect, happy way of life continued after our relationship started, but then, it stopped.
Fast forward to today. We're married. We no longer give a shit about impressing each other and worst of all, I broke my top of the line husband aka maid. We now play little games to see who will gave first as the mountain of dishes takes over our sink and our apartment is in a perpetual state of looking like a tornado just swept through. I never thought I would say this, but I'm tired of the mess and I want my cleaner bee husband back.
Enter in the 3am deal. Stink wants more sex, I want more cleaning. So what does any good couple capable of reaching a compromise do? We make a deal. In exchange for an pristine apartment and a sink full of nothing but shine, I, in turn, am required to provide sex twice a week and one BJ. I'm pretty sure Stink got the short end of the stick because while I'm often too lazy to have sex at least I enjoy it. If you enjoy cleaning you're certifiably crazy.
Enter our Mid Day Gchat
Left unedited for your viewing pleasure
Stink: so im guessing you were serious about our little deal last night?
im surprised you broke down so soon, only 1 year of me not cleaning and your
ready to give up the jewels eh?
looks like my plan worked perfectly!
im so pumped to start cleaning when i get home
you have no idea
me: asshole
Stink: ?
i just joking around
no need to be offended
..
?
hello?
me: sorry
i was doing something
Stink: oh
i thought you were super pissed
:)
me: no
i need to have all dishes done and the bedroom picked up before you start getting any nookie though
Stink: ic
me: you already got some once this week
Stink: did I now
me: and frankly i don't trust you
Stink: that was last week sweetie
:)
ha you dont trust me says the woman of broken promises
me: it was in the last 7 days sweetie
Stink: i think you owe me like 30 bjs
me: um those few you got a couple weeks ago more than make up for those
each one was easily worth 10 bjs
Stink: ?
you mean the new position? I will give you credit for that
it was hot
ok ok we are even for now
but you better bet your ass im getting you naked and doing dirty things to you by the end of the week
i think you forget how much of a motivator my penis is
me: lmao
hey you clean you'll get some sweet loving
Stink: ive been telling you for months if you want me to clean, give my crotch some
attention
its not rocket science, didn't they teach you that in "How to handle men 101"
me: I guess I forgot that part
Stink: ha
me: then again most men are like me ... they don't clean
Stink: study harder next time
yeah
well you bought one that used to
and then you broke him
me: i think that part wasn't really in the class
Stink: orly
i was pretty sure it was under "how to use sex to get what you want" on the syllabus
me: i know my fucking husband is a defective model ... you think I can get my money
back?
Stink: nope
all sales are final
me: ahhhh ok I remember that part
Stink: you can just dispose of him
no special permit required
just get your stamp from family court
aka divorce
:P
me: you think you'd make good fertilizer for my veggies if i disposed of you in the back
yard?
Stink: alimony not guaranteed
um nope
human body has too much acid in it
me: wtf of course I get alimony
i have to put up with your shit
Stink: you need to wait until i dry out a bit
me: i deserve millions for that
Stink: ha
lets not get started on what i deserve......
SMILF: String Cheese and Pinwheels...and My Workday
I was reading BOTB’s post about her friends who hate their jobs. Surely she wasn’t speaking of me. Okay, so I know that I was one of the first people that she thought of when she wrote that. It’s not that I hate THIS job per se, I just hate any job. Probably because I still don’t know what I want to do when I “grow up”. Actually, I take that back. I know what I want to do. I want to sleep in, get up and read trashy chick lit novels all day, and play online. Can someone pay me to do all of this please?
But, you know what? I’m in a good mood today so instead of focusing on the fact that I am staring at this dingy gray wall in front of me, I am going to think about the things that make me happy throughout the workday – yes, there are actually some things that make me happy. Such as….
….Being able to add rubber bands to my rubber band ball that is starting to resemble a small cantaloupe. I’m pretty sure I could injure someone with it. (Remember that nasty co-worker)
….Eating my string cheese string by string just to kill time
….Looking at the goofy pictures of my friends and family scattered across my desk
….When I hear “Don’t Stop Believin’” come on the otherwise cheesy music playing station that my boss insists on listening to
….When random dirty old men walk by my picture window and give a dirty old man smile
….When my boss is in meetings for a long amount of time
….When a co-worker sends me a particularly funny article from Perez or TMZ (Nothing like pulling up a picture of some celeb showing her Britney to make your day better)
…..Using my pen that has a big pink pinwheel on the end of it. It doesn’t get much happier than that folks
….When co-worker #1 gets busted sleeping with co-worker #2 and a companywide gossip fest occurs
…..Getting a sweet email from hubby
….When a co-worker brings in doughnuts unexpectedly and I know that I shouldn’t eat one but I do anyway. They make my teeth hurt but I do it anyway –why? Because it’s fun.
….When I look at the clock and realize that it’s much later than I thought it was
See? Get some string cheese and a pinwheel pencil and maybe your days won’t be so bad either. That is what I plan on continuing to tell myself anyway.
But, you know what? I’m in a good mood today so instead of focusing on the fact that I am staring at this dingy gray wall in front of me, I am going to think about the things that make me happy throughout the workday – yes, there are actually some things that make me happy. Such as….
….Being able to add rubber bands to my rubber band ball that is starting to resemble a small cantaloupe. I’m pretty sure I could injure someone with it. (Remember that nasty co-worker)
….Eating my string cheese string by string just to kill time
….Looking at the goofy pictures of my friends and family scattered across my desk
….When I hear “Don’t Stop Believin’” come on the otherwise cheesy music playing station that my boss insists on listening to
….When random dirty old men walk by my picture window and give a dirty old man smile
….When my boss is in meetings for a long amount of time
….When a co-worker sends me a particularly funny article from Perez or TMZ (Nothing like pulling up a picture of some celeb showing her Britney to make your day better)
…..Using my pen that has a big pink pinwheel on the end of it. It doesn’t get much happier than that folks
….When co-worker #1 gets busted sleeping with co-worker #2 and a companywide gossip fest occurs
…..Getting a sweet email from hubby
….When a co-worker brings in doughnuts unexpectedly and I know that I shouldn’t eat one but I do anyway. They make my teeth hurt but I do it anyway –why? Because it’s fun.
….When I look at the clock and realize that it’s much later than I thought it was
See? Get some string cheese and a pinwheel pencil and maybe your days won’t be so bad either. That is what I plan on continuing to tell myself anyway.
Monday, June 16, 2008
SMILF: Say It Isn't So...
Okay, look. If you ARE a pageant mom or strive to be a pageant mom (you poor soul) then stop reading now. Just stop. Move on. Go curl some poor little girls hair or put lipstick on a child that doesn't even know her left from her right.
First of all, I was never in any sort of pageant. I never wanted to be and thank the Lord, my mother never pushed me to be. It is not a world that I want my child in - at all, period. Jon Benet Ramsey anyone??
So when a couple of weeks ago E tells us that Sydney is going to be in a pageant, I almost spit out my lovely piece of pizza I was chewing on. Excuse me? Sydney. Like, our Sydney? The little girl who hates to get dressed up and wants to wear sweats all of the time? The girl who hates to get her hair brushed? I'm confused. But much to my dismay it was true. Sydney was going to be in pageant for her county's fair where her mother lives. This seemed extremely out of character to me.
When Sydney next came to our house I asked her about this pageant (I want to gag when I say this word...why is this?!). She seemed semi-excited about it - and at that point I thought, okay, as long as she is having fun with this, then I will be excited for her. But honestly, she is way more Little Miss Sunshine than Jon Benet. Cute, smart, funny, but definitely not the stereotypical pageant girl. I then find out that E was in pageants when she was little and how convenient for her to push Sydney to be in one considering she wants Sydney to be just like her. Shudder at the thought. I launch into the speech about, "You know, it's better to be pretty on the inside than it is the outside so please remember that you are both and you need to be both during this pageant okay?" She says that her mom told her that when she was in pageants when she was little that she often won Miss Congeniality (bad judges of character pageant judges...shame) and she tells this impressionable, naive, self-conscious 8 year old, "I never wanted to be the nice one though, I was always upset because I wanted to be pretty, not nice." The joke is on her - she never got either.
Robert and I would have rather cut each others fingernails out one by one than go to a pageant, but of course we did because we go to everything of the kids and we support them fully. This pageant was THE most awkward thing I have ever been to. The kids live in a small, country town - absolutely nothing wrong with that. I am from a similar place, so I knew some things to expect. We get there (to a middle school) and the stage has zero decorations on it. Nothing. It has a podium for the announcer (we'll get to her later) and a table with trophies on it covered in this hideous black sparkly piece of material. That is it. It looked like someone woke up that morning and said, "Huh, let's have a pageant here today, nothing else going on." The announcer...I really felt sorry for her. She either was smoking a crack pipe or was sneaking drinks from a nearby flask. She couldn't speak straight, kept dropping things, etc. which made it awkward for the little girls smiling on stage.
The girls came out one by one and said their name, where they would go to school, their age, and their contestant number. Then they would walk across the stage in their gowns (who the fuck makes prom dresses for 8 year olds?! Someone help me please...) while the announcer did her best to tell the girls hobbies, their wishes, etc. Once all of the girls were finished with this portion, they all came back out and stood in a row in front of the judges. No music, no nothing, just them standing there. For like 5 minutes. And finally the announcer realizes they are waiting on her cue and she is all, "Oh, let's give these ladies another hand..." and lets them leave the stage. Pay attention lady. They are your disciples at this point. That was it. No talent, no nothing, just parading them around on stage like little fairies in a snowglobe to be judged on their looks. Fantastic way to raise a child.
After deliberation by the judges they brought the girls all back out and the announcer says, "We don't have sashes for the girls because they are up in a box in the attic so I apologize for that." Um...maybe they really DID just get up this morning and decide to have a pageant?!
Sydney ended up getting 2nd runner up - I was excited for her because I know she wanted it but part of me was thinking, "Oh fuck. She is going to want to do this again now." Honestly, if this was her personality and something I felt she truly enjoyed, then I would be positive about it, but it just seems like (as usual) something that she was mind warped into doing.
Oh yes, let's not forget that E and her entire insane family was there. Tyler was with us that weekend and was sitting with us and E made sure and come up when she got there and make sure that he sat with her instead of us. Because after all, it's all how she looks and to those who don't know her she needs to look like the model parent. After the pageant (keep in mind, this is our time with the kids) she kept trying to get Sydney to stay to watch all of the older girls do their pageant when we really had to go as we had other plans. Sydney was torn but her mom kept on and finally Robert said, "We have to go." Um...please stop trying to get your children to do things that you want them to do. Please stop trying to make them feel guilty about doing things that aren't what YOU want. Do you realize how bad you are screwing them up?!
Yeah, so I hate pageants. I really do. I am a pretty damn girly girl as well - I love makeup, purses, clothes, shoes, etc. but there is something about getting your small child into that world that I just can't agree with. If it's one for fun, then okay, but if you are really trying to make them into something that they aren't? Then get a fucking grip.
First of all, I was never in any sort of pageant. I never wanted to be and thank the Lord, my mother never pushed me to be. It is not a world that I want my child in - at all, period. Jon Benet Ramsey anyone??
So when a couple of weeks ago E tells us that Sydney is going to be in a pageant, I almost spit out my lovely piece of pizza I was chewing on. Excuse me? Sydney. Like, our Sydney? The little girl who hates to get dressed up and wants to wear sweats all of the time? The girl who hates to get her hair brushed? I'm confused. But much to my dismay it was true. Sydney was going to be in pageant for her county's fair where her mother lives. This seemed extremely out of character to me.
When Sydney next came to our house I asked her about this pageant (I want to gag when I say this word...why is this?!). She seemed semi-excited about it - and at that point I thought, okay, as long as she is having fun with this, then I will be excited for her. But honestly, she is way more Little Miss Sunshine than Jon Benet. Cute, smart, funny, but definitely not the stereotypical pageant girl. I then find out that E was in pageants when she was little and how convenient for her to push Sydney to be in one considering she wants Sydney to be just like her. Shudder at the thought. I launch into the speech about, "You know, it's better to be pretty on the inside than it is the outside so please remember that you are both and you need to be both during this pageant okay?" She says that her mom told her that when she was in pageants when she was little that she often won Miss Congeniality (bad judges of character pageant judges...shame) and she tells this impressionable, naive, self-conscious 8 year old, "I never wanted to be the nice one though, I was always upset because I wanted to be pretty, not nice." The joke is on her - she never got either.
Robert and I would have rather cut each others fingernails out one by one than go to a pageant, but of course we did because we go to everything of the kids and we support them fully. This pageant was THE most awkward thing I have ever been to. The kids live in a small, country town - absolutely nothing wrong with that. I am from a similar place, so I knew some things to expect. We get there (to a middle school) and the stage has zero decorations on it. Nothing. It has a podium for the announcer (we'll get to her later) and a table with trophies on it covered in this hideous black sparkly piece of material. That is it. It looked like someone woke up that morning and said, "Huh, let's have a pageant here today, nothing else going on." The announcer...I really felt sorry for her. She either was smoking a crack pipe or was sneaking drinks from a nearby flask. She couldn't speak straight, kept dropping things, etc. which made it awkward for the little girls smiling on stage.
The girls came out one by one and said their name, where they would go to school, their age, and their contestant number. Then they would walk across the stage in their gowns (who the fuck makes prom dresses for 8 year olds?! Someone help me please...) while the announcer did her best to tell the girls hobbies, their wishes, etc. Once all of the girls were finished with this portion, they all came back out and stood in a row in front of the judges. No music, no nothing, just them standing there. For like 5 minutes. And finally the announcer realizes they are waiting on her cue and she is all, "Oh, let's give these ladies another hand..." and lets them leave the stage. Pay attention lady. They are your disciples at this point. That was it. No talent, no nothing, just parading them around on stage like little fairies in a snowglobe to be judged on their looks. Fantastic way to raise a child.
After deliberation by the judges they brought the girls all back out and the announcer says, "We don't have sashes for the girls because they are up in a box in the attic so I apologize for that." Um...maybe they really DID just get up this morning and decide to have a pageant?!
Sydney ended up getting 2nd runner up - I was excited for her because I know she wanted it but part of me was thinking, "Oh fuck. She is going to want to do this again now." Honestly, if this was her personality and something I felt she truly enjoyed, then I would be positive about it, but it just seems like (as usual) something that she was mind warped into doing.
Oh yes, let's not forget that E and her entire insane family was there. Tyler was with us that weekend and was sitting with us and E made sure and come up when she got there and make sure that he sat with her instead of us. Because after all, it's all how she looks and to those who don't know her she needs to look like the model parent. After the pageant (keep in mind, this is our time with the kids) she kept trying to get Sydney to stay to watch all of the older girls do their pageant when we really had to go as we had other plans. Sydney was torn but her mom kept on and finally Robert said, "We have to go." Um...please stop trying to get your children to do things that you want them to do. Please stop trying to make them feel guilty about doing things that aren't what YOU want. Do you realize how bad you are screwing them up?!
Yeah, so I hate pageants. I really do. I am a pretty damn girly girl as well - I love makeup, purses, clothes, shoes, etc. but there is something about getting your small child into that world that I just can't agree with. If it's one for fun, then okay, but if you are really trying to make them into something that they aren't? Then get a fucking grip.
BOTB: The Devil You Know
I admit it; I have a few internet friends and quite a few internet acquaintances. What I find interesting is that there is one thing in common for most people who I meet online. They're either stay at home parents/ husbands/wives OR they fucking hate their job and do everything in their power to avoid work. A few people like their jobs, but most of us spend 90% of the day avoiding the work we’re supposed to do.
Is it just me? Are my friends pathetic? Or does everyone hate their job?
I know I hate my job. I can't stand it. I dred Sunday afternoons because I know Monday is close at hand so really I can only truly enjoy one day a week. Not cool. What pisses me off most is that I'm pretty damn sure that if I got another job I would hate it just as much so pretty much I'm screwed and stuck being miserable. I’d rather stick with the devil I know, but he’s still the fucking devil.
I have just under fifty years left of the torture that is get up, go to work, come home, eat, go to bed. Talk about a depressing life. Someone shoot me now. Please.
Is it just me? Are my friends pathetic? Or does everyone hate their job?
I know I hate my job. I can't stand it. I dred Sunday afternoons because I know Monday is close at hand so really I can only truly enjoy one day a week. Not cool. What pisses me off most is that I'm pretty damn sure that if I got another job I would hate it just as much so pretty much I'm screwed and stuck being miserable. I’d rather stick with the devil I know, but he’s still the fucking devil.
I have just under fifty years left of the torture that is get up, go to work, come home, eat, go to bed. Talk about a depressing life. Someone shoot me now. Please.
SMILF: The "Big Blue Thing"
Saturday night the kids wanted to play with Tyler’s walkie talkies – the kids took one walkie talkie and Robert and I took the other. They were so excited to be playing this game as it tends to get pretty funny since Tyler hasn’t yet figured out that you don’t actually wrap your mouth AROUND the walkie talkie like you are trying to eat it, you just put your mouth next to the speaker. Anyway, the kids ran off and Robert and I stayed on the couch half watching TV, half paying attention to where they were going.
The game started and the kids were being goofy and singing songs and saying silly things to us and we were being equally as silly back. As I said, we weren’t sure exactly where they went to hide to play this game, but I wasn’t too worried about it. Until I get this come through from Sydney –
::static from walkie talkie:: “Hey guys – what is this big blue thing in your closet?”
::SHIT:: “Oh, that is for daddy to do his physical therapy on.” (Robert has had some back and neck issues recently so this isn’t SO farfetched). Damn. I’m still impressed with my quick thinking. Maybe wine is good for the mind.
“Oh, okay, because Tyler is playing on it. He’s slow dancing with it like it’s a girl that he likes or something.”
At this point I was about 3 drinks in for the evening so all I could do was laugh hysterically about this. What is so funny you ask? The “big blue thing” was not for back exercises at all. It was our Liberator. As in that sex toy that you can buy that is like a big foam wedge for all kinds of kinky-licious positions? It was hidden in our closet because no one besides us ever goes in there so we figured it was a safe place right? Apparently not.
The kids proceeded to be way too interested in the “big blue thing” and then brought it out into the living room floor to play with it. At this point, it was late, the kids were slap happy, Robert and I could only laugh at this point because really….what else are you going to do? Your kids are playing on your sex toy like it is some sort of jungle gym. Laying on it, jumping on it, pulling each other around on it – we did what any normal parents would do – we laughed our asses off and took a picture of it so we could laugh at this night for years to come. Robert did delete a couple because Sydney looked way too comfortable in sex positions in some of them (not meaning to of course...the innocence of children...ah....) Don’t worry – we aren’t totally sick. We only let this go on for about 10 minutes before we put the kibosh on the fun night with the Liberator.
I only hope that someday when they are old enough to know what things like Liberator’s are that they have long forgotten about this night. How traumatizing would that be knowing that you had rolled all over your dad and stepmom‘s sex jungle gym? No answer necessary.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
RHONY: I'd like to introduce you to my friend...
...Single Jealous Female. You know the one. My SJF broke up with her boyfriend of over six years just a few weeks before my wedding. That was fun. Ever since, SJF has been trying to one up me in every aspect of my life. But not with her swinging single escapades.... with her other married friends. Sound strange? Observe:
SJF: How much did you wedding cost?
RHWONY: Eeeehhh I don't really like to talk about that stuff.
SJF: Come on, I'm one of your best friends!
RHWONY: Eeerrr, I'm not really sure of an exact figure.
SJF: More than $20,000?
RHWONY: Yeah
SJF: More than $40,000?
RHWONY: Probably...um bartender, can I get a refill please? Thaaaaaaaaanks.
SJF: More than $50,000?
RHWONY: That's probably the ballpark...weddings are crazy and cost lots of money and I don't like to talk about it.
SJF: Well yeah I mean my friend Betty's wedding cost over $100,000, so I know. I mean..... [insert random ramble about how super-de-duper Betty's wedding was].
RHWONY: Hmmm... so....
SJF: How many carats is your engagement ring?
RHWONY: Oooh, I dunno somewhere around 2.
SJF: Yeah that's a good size - definitely not too big. It's not extravagant. I mean my cousin's was like $30,000 and is 3 carats. Wouldn't you just feel unsafe walking around with a rock like that on your hand?
RHWONY: Yeah, I'm glad I just have my chip. Thanks.
SJF: So are you guys doing anything special for your first anniversary?
RHWONY: Well, we were planning on going to Italy for a vacay, but then Uncle Sam raped us in the butt and took all our money. So something low key. Maybe we'll go to dinner at the restaurant where we got engaged or do a weekend in the Hamptons or go to a casino.
SJF: That'll be nice for you guys, Susie and Jake are going to the Greek Isles. Isn't that where you originally wanted to honeymoon?
RHWONY: Yup...that's the place.
RHWONY: So I'm really excited...three jobs opened up at this school where I'd love to work!
SJF: Oh I know people in that district.
RHWONY: OMG. Hook a sista up!
SJF: Oh yeah, those positions are already filled.
RHWONY: Really? I called personnel yesterday and they said they haven't started interviewing yet.
SJF: Well who did you speak to? Marcia? Because I spoke to Marcia Jr. today and she told me they were filled.
RHWONY: oh.
Now, bearing all of this in mind, she has a good heart and has stuck by me through some tough times. She's got major issues, clearly. But seriously. WTF?
Stay tuned for more.
SJF: How much did you wedding cost?
RHWONY: Eeeehhh I don't really like to talk about that stuff.
SJF: Come on, I'm one of your best friends!
RHWONY: Eeerrr, I'm not really sure of an exact figure.
SJF: More than $20,000?
RHWONY: Yeah
SJF: More than $40,000?
RHWONY: Probably...um bartender, can I get a refill please? Thaaaaaaaaanks.
SJF: More than $50,000?
RHWONY: That's probably the ballpark...weddings are crazy and cost lots of money and I don't like to talk about it.
SJF: Well yeah I mean my friend Betty's wedding cost over $100,000, so I know. I mean..... [insert random ramble about how super-de-duper Betty's wedding was].
RHWONY: Hmmm... so....
SJF: How many carats is your engagement ring?
RHWONY: Oooh, I dunno somewhere around 2.
SJF: Yeah that's a good size - definitely not too big. It's not extravagant. I mean my cousin's was like $30,000 and is 3 carats. Wouldn't you just feel unsafe walking around with a rock like that on your hand?
RHWONY: Yeah, I'm glad I just have my chip. Thanks.
SJF: So are you guys doing anything special for your first anniversary?
RHWONY: Well, we were planning on going to Italy for a vacay, but then Uncle Sam raped us in the butt and took all our money. So something low key. Maybe we'll go to dinner at the restaurant where we got engaged or do a weekend in the Hamptons or go to a casino.
SJF: That'll be nice for you guys, Susie and Jake are going to the Greek Isles. Isn't that where you originally wanted to honeymoon?
RHWONY: Yup...that's the place.
RHWONY: So I'm really excited...three jobs opened up at this school where I'd love to work!
SJF: Oh I know people in that district.
RHWONY: OMG. Hook a sista up!
SJF: Oh yeah, those positions are already filled.
RHWONY: Really? I called personnel yesterday and they said they haven't started interviewing yet.
SJF: Well who did you speak to? Marcia? Because I spoke to Marcia Jr. today and she told me they were filled.
RHWONY: oh.
Now, bearing all of this in mind, she has a good heart and has stuck by me through some tough times. She's got major issues, clearly. But seriously. WTF?
Stay tuned for more.
SMILF: My Husband's Nuts
In an effort to be more healthy Robert has changed his eating habits quite a bit over the past 6 months. Around bedtime he always thinks he is wasting away to nothing and needs a snack. Let me take this opportunity to mention that he isn't the best at liking healthy snacks. He claims it's a texture thing - anything "cold and crunchy" he can't put into his mouth without wanting to gag. I get it. I can't eat mushrooms for the same reason.
One snack that he loves right before bed is mixed nuts. You would think this would be easy to pick up at the store, but they have to be a certain kind of mixed nuts. They have to be the "kind in the purple can...the generic ones. The ones that you buy at WalMart. They don't have peanuts in them." Apparently peanuts shouldn't be in mixed nuts. Who knew. So, the other night he gets out of bed around 10:30pm, goes to the cabinet to get his nuts, and comes back in the bedroom.
"These are in a black can. I like the ones in the purple can. The ones in the black can say, "Less than 50% peanuts" and the ones in the purple can don't have peanuts."
"Yeah, I didn't go there this week so I had to get those."
He then gets back up out of bed and he comes back with the can of mixed nuts and a pizza pan. In bed. At 10:30 at night. I look up from reading my trashy chick lit book and say, "What are you doing with a pizza pan in bed?" He then dumps the entire can of peanutty mixed nuts onto the pizza pan. I kept reading and I noticed that he is now sitting up in bed seperating these nuts onto two seperate portions of the pizza pan. He does this for about 20 minutes. I asked him what he was doing again and he says, "Seperating these nuts." He continues for a little while longer, looks up at the can again and shakes his head and says in disbelief, "They SAY "less than 50%" peanuts" on this can but judging by this (pointing at the pizza pan of nuts in my bed), that isn't true. Why do you think they say that? Maybe they don't think anyone will actually count."
REALLY? You think? Who does that?! I'm sure they weren't worried about lawsuits from people claiming false advertising on these cans of mixed nuts because really there might be more like 70% peanuts instead of the 50% that they say are in there. I married a man who counts nuts in bed on a pizza pan. I am one lucky woman. (No really, I am a lucky woman, but things like this are just funny).
One snack that he loves right before bed is mixed nuts. You would think this would be easy to pick up at the store, but they have to be a certain kind of mixed nuts. They have to be the "kind in the purple can...the generic ones. The ones that you buy at WalMart. They don't have peanuts in them." Apparently peanuts shouldn't be in mixed nuts. Who knew. So, the other night he gets out of bed around 10:30pm, goes to the cabinet to get his nuts, and comes back in the bedroom.
"These are in a black can. I like the ones in the purple can. The ones in the black can say, "Less than 50% peanuts" and the ones in the purple can don't have peanuts."
"Yeah, I didn't go there this week so I had to get those."
He then gets back up out of bed and he comes back with the can of mixed nuts and a pizza pan. In bed. At 10:30 at night. I look up from reading my trashy chick lit book and say, "What are you doing with a pizza pan in bed?" He then dumps the entire can of peanutty mixed nuts onto the pizza pan. I kept reading and I noticed that he is now sitting up in bed seperating these nuts onto two seperate portions of the pizza pan. He does this for about 20 minutes. I asked him what he was doing again and he says, "Seperating these nuts." He continues for a little while longer, looks up at the can again and shakes his head and says in disbelief, "They SAY "less than 50%" peanuts" on this can but judging by this (pointing at the pizza pan of nuts in my bed), that isn't true. Why do you think they say that? Maybe they don't think anyone will actually count."
REALLY? You think? Who does that?! I'm sure they weren't worried about lawsuits from people claiming false advertising on these cans of mixed nuts because really there might be more like 70% peanuts instead of the 50% that they say are in there. I married a man who counts nuts in bed on a pizza pan. I am one lucky woman. (No really, I am a lucky woman, but things like this are just funny).
Friday, June 13, 2008
SMILF: Friday WTF?
I see so many things daily that just make me stop and think, "What the fuck?," or in today's texting/IM'ing world, "WTF?" I think I'll start sharing these with you on Fridays. Seems like a good WTF day.
Today's WTF brought to you by MSNBC:
Wouldn't this suck? Or would it?
Discuss. I personally don't want to sit around and remember things instantly like, "Oh yes, July 13, 2002 - that is the night that my best friend and I got incredibly drunk and I puked twice at this bar. When we got home she was so mad at me and I didn't know why but she said if I choked on my own vomit that night she wouldn't care. Yup, July 13, 2002. I remember it vividly."
WTF???
Today's WTF brought to you by MSNBC:
Wouldn't this suck? Or would it?
Discuss. I personally don't want to sit around and remember things instantly like, "Oh yes, July 13, 2002 - that is the night that my best friend and I got incredibly drunk and I puked twice at this bar. When we got home she was so mad at me and I didn't know why but she said if I choked on my own vomit that night she wouldn't care. Yup, July 13, 2002. I remember it vividly."
WTF???
BOTB: Wildebeasts aka Men
What is it with husbands errr make that guys thinking women like being treated like a dead carcass waiting in the jungle to be taken advantage of? First, I’m not dead. I’m alive, kicking and screaming with maybe a quick stop to breath on the side. Second, when I want some sweet loving I’ll let you know. I am perfectly capable of flexing my very own sexual muscle and no, as much fun as it may be, I’m not talking about working on my Kegels.
My poor husband just can’t seem to get it. If he didn’t paw at me like a lion trying to eat his kill his chances might be just a wee bit better. I tell him this. He doesn’t listen. What is it about guys that makes them dumber than rocks? Scientific-like people say colorblindness is more common in men. Frankly, I’m starting to have my doubts. Could it just be that they’re too dumb to recognize the difference in color? That the problem isn’t just in their eyes and that its the larger problem of them just being men? I think it might.
This is how a typical convo with Stink goes.
Stink - Why won’t you ever fuck me?
Me - Because you treat me like a peace of meat and my vibrator doesn’t.
Stink - I’m sorry I’ll stop
Next Day
I’m sitting on the couch watching TV. Stink waggles over sticks his cock in my face and wiggles it around and starts groping me.
Me - Go away!
Stink - Why won’t you ever fuck me?
repeat previous days convo
Sigh … they never learn
My poor husband just can’t seem to get it. If he didn’t paw at me like a lion trying to eat his kill his chances might be just a wee bit better. I tell him this. He doesn’t listen. What is it about guys that makes them dumber than rocks? Scientific-like people say colorblindness is more common in men. Frankly, I’m starting to have my doubts. Could it just be that they’re too dumb to recognize the difference in color? That the problem isn’t just in their eyes and that its the larger problem of them just being men? I think it might.
This is how a typical convo with Stink goes.
Stink - Why won’t you ever fuck me?
Me - Because you treat me like a peace of meat and my vibrator doesn’t.
Stink - I’m sorry I’ll stop
Next Day
I’m sitting on the couch watching TV. Stink waggles over sticks his cock in my face and wiggles it around and starts groping me.
Me - Go away!
Stink - Why won’t you ever fuck me?
repeat previous days convo
Sigh … they never learn
SMILF: I Have Addictions Too You Know
I get it. Smoking is an addiction. Being addicted to cigarettes is like having an illness. Very hard habit to break. That is why you should never start to begin with. What I need to know, is how is it acceptable for smokers to take several breaks throughout the work day to go stand around together in a group and gossip for 15-20 minutes at a time about who is screwing who in what department while puffing away on a Cancer stick? I see people take seven or eight of these breaks a day. I have addictions too you know. Celebrity gossip rags, trashy TV, online shopping – what if I went outside in the fresh air 7 times a day for 20 minutes apiece and read People magazine? I somehow think that would be frowned upon.
(And you know as I’m typing this someone has just gotten up, grabbed a crossword puzzle book and his pack of cigarettes and is heading outside.)
I’m just cranky today. PMS has gotten the best of me. But really? I feel a twitch coming on. Can I go read People now please? I promise I’ll be back in 15 minutes.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
SMILF: Snot Rockets and Knock-Knock Jokes
Saying that I am not a morning person is the understatement of the century. Last week we were in the car early in the morning and Tyler was still asleep. He woke up when the sun started beating in the windows – he promptly gave the sun a look that could kill and pulled a big blanket over his head. That is how I feel every morning. I want to pull a big blanket over my head and hide.
My normal weekday morning routine consists of me going to pee when Robert gets up for work at 6:30 and then I go back to sleep until 7:27. 3 snoozes for those who are counting. I get up, brush my teeth, wash my face, throw on some clothes, brush my hair, grab my breakfast to eat at work and I am out the door by 7:50.
This week as I mentioned we have the little people so my routine is all out of whack. Since Robert has to be at work way earlier than me, my job is to take the kids to the babysitter before work. The normal 6:30am pee break this week is the time I have to roll out of bed and be ready to be super SMILF. No time to lie in bed and listen to my body saying, “Wait, I just peed, why are we getting up?!” The kids are up, ready for breakfast ,and ready to talk. Let’s recall…normally I’m not even up until an hour after this.
I stumble in and the kids are sitting on the couch already watching Spiderman or whatever happens to be on. I make my way into the kitchen and pull out of the cabinets my favorite invention of the week…ready? Pop-Tarts with knock-knock jokes on them. GENIUS! Some of you probably know that little kids LOVE knock-knock jokes. The more ridiculous the better. These are pretty ridiculous. (knock knock….who’s there?....Hawaii….Hawaii who?...I’m fine, Hawaii you?....Cue the giggles). BUT. Two kids, two pop-tarts, and they are entertained for at least 15 minutes telling each other the same jokes over and over. Thank you Mr. Pop-Tart man. During those 15 minutes I can have the discussion with my body that we are going to be adult today and we will NOT crawl back under the covers like we want to.
Our kids are sneezers in the mornings. I am fairly positive that they have seasonal allergies, but their mother says they do not, so that is what goes. Because after all, she is an MD. (Oh wait, no she isn’t, she just claims to know everything without gathering real information. That’s right. I forgot for a minute.) Anyway, these aren’t little dainty sneezes. When these kids sneeze, I am talking full on messy, gooey sneezes that if you told me 5 years ago I would be wiping up I would have thrown up on your shoes. I am used to this now. This morning though, I was getting Tyler’s shoes on him and I hear Sydney walk into their bathroom and sneeze really loud. I figured she was okay since she was by a box of Kleenex so I thought nothing of it. This is the
conversation that follows:
Sydney: ::giggling:: Wow, that was a really big snot rocket!
SMILF: ::gagging:: (okay, I didn’t really gag, but I considered it. Snot rocket? Before 7:30am?) Wow, great, did you get to a Kleenex?
Sydney: ::giggling:: Nope! I didn’t need to! I sneezed right over the trash can and since the trash bag has nothing in it, when the snot rocket fell into it, it made this really cool noise. I heard it go into the trash can!
SMILF: ::laughing now:: Okay, please wash your hands and go get dressed now.
The rest of the morning consisted of getting kids dressed, brushing tangles the size of small animals out of Sydney’s hair, cleaning up Cranberry juice that Tyler spilled on the couch, blanket, and floor, getting Sydney’s softball items ready, and managing to remember to grab my breakfast. We left our house around 7:12am to head to the babysitter. Target time was 7:10 so not bad.
Both kids were in a good mood this morning thank goodness so that means Sydney was extra talkative the whole 30 minute car ride. Have you ever seen that Volvo commercial? The one where the dad is putting the little girl in the car after school and she keep talking the entire time even when he shuts the door and walks around to get in the car and he can’t hear her…she is still talking. I think that commercial is adorable. That is how it was this morning for us. I learned during that drive (among other things) about how the kids at the U-shaped table never really learned how to work together as a team, how “Johnny” was the only kid who always had to go to principal’s office and he even had to go visit the 3rd grade teacher so she could tell him, “Johnny, next year, I will not put up with this kind of behavior”, and how the boy we are currently crushing on “T” pulled someone’s chair out from under them (this was followed by a fit of giggles and repeatedly telling me how funny he is).
I pulled into the baby-sitters around 7:40. I thought to myself, wow. I am normally at this point just rubbing crusty unknown crap out of my eyes and trying to figure out what excuse I can use to NOT have to go to work. I’ve already had a full morning!
Some of you full time mom’s are probably thinking, “That morning sounds like a cake walk”, but to me, it is very out of my routine and so surviving it is a small victory for me. I thank God for having good stepkids. And for knock-knock joke Pop-Tarts.
My normal weekday morning routine consists of me going to pee when Robert gets up for work at 6:30 and then I go back to sleep until 7:27. 3 snoozes for those who are counting. I get up, brush my teeth, wash my face, throw on some clothes, brush my hair, grab my breakfast to eat at work and I am out the door by 7:50.
This week as I mentioned we have the little people so my routine is all out of whack. Since Robert has to be at work way earlier than me, my job is to take the kids to the babysitter before work. The normal 6:30am pee break this week is the time I have to roll out of bed and be ready to be super SMILF. No time to lie in bed and listen to my body saying, “Wait, I just peed, why are we getting up?!” The kids are up, ready for breakfast ,and ready to talk. Let’s recall…normally I’m not even up until an hour after this.
I stumble in and the kids are sitting on the couch already watching Spiderman or whatever happens to be on. I make my way into the kitchen and pull out of the cabinets my favorite invention of the week…ready? Pop-Tarts with knock-knock jokes on them. GENIUS! Some of you probably know that little kids LOVE knock-knock jokes. The more ridiculous the better. These are pretty ridiculous. (knock knock….who’s there?....Hawaii….Hawaii who?...I’m fine, Hawaii you?....Cue the giggles). BUT. Two kids, two pop-tarts, and they are entertained for at least 15 minutes telling each other the same jokes over and over. Thank you Mr. Pop-Tart man. During those 15 minutes I can have the discussion with my body that we are going to be adult today and we will NOT crawl back under the covers like we want to.
Our kids are sneezers in the mornings. I am fairly positive that they have seasonal allergies, but their mother says they do not, so that is what goes. Because after all, she is an MD. (Oh wait, no she isn’t, she just claims to know everything without gathering real information. That’s right. I forgot for a minute.) Anyway, these aren’t little dainty sneezes. When these kids sneeze, I am talking full on messy, gooey sneezes that if you told me 5 years ago I would be wiping up I would have thrown up on your shoes. I am used to this now. This morning though, I was getting Tyler’s shoes on him and I hear Sydney walk into their bathroom and sneeze really loud. I figured she was okay since she was by a box of Kleenex so I thought nothing of it. This is the
conversation that follows:
Sydney: ::giggling:: Wow, that was a really big snot rocket!
SMILF: ::gagging:: (okay, I didn’t really gag, but I considered it. Snot rocket? Before 7:30am?) Wow, great, did you get to a Kleenex?
Sydney: ::giggling:: Nope! I didn’t need to! I sneezed right over the trash can and since the trash bag has nothing in it, when the snot rocket fell into it, it made this really cool noise. I heard it go into the trash can!
SMILF: ::laughing now:: Okay, please wash your hands and go get dressed now.
The rest of the morning consisted of getting kids dressed, brushing tangles the size of small animals out of Sydney’s hair, cleaning up Cranberry juice that Tyler spilled on the couch, blanket, and floor, getting Sydney’s softball items ready, and managing to remember to grab my breakfast. We left our house around 7:12am to head to the babysitter. Target time was 7:10 so not bad.
Both kids were in a good mood this morning thank goodness so that means Sydney was extra talkative the whole 30 minute car ride. Have you ever seen that Volvo commercial? The one where the dad is putting the little girl in the car after school and she keep talking the entire time even when he shuts the door and walks around to get in the car and he can’t hear her…she is still talking. I think that commercial is adorable. That is how it was this morning for us. I learned during that drive (among other things) about how the kids at the U-shaped table never really learned how to work together as a team, how “Johnny” was the only kid who always had to go to principal’s office and he even had to go visit the 3rd grade teacher so she could tell him, “Johnny, next year, I will not put up with this kind of behavior”, and how the boy we are currently crushing on “T” pulled someone’s chair out from under them (this was followed by a fit of giggles and repeatedly telling me how funny he is).
I pulled into the baby-sitters around 7:40. I thought to myself, wow. I am normally at this point just rubbing crusty unknown crap out of my eyes and trying to figure out what excuse I can use to NOT have to go to work. I’ve already had a full morning!
Some of you full time mom’s are probably thinking, “That morning sounds like a cake walk”, but to me, it is very out of my routine and so surviving it is a small victory for me. I thank God for having good stepkids. And for knock-knock joke Pop-Tarts.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
SAHW: I am so over it!
I think something crazy happens when you get that engagement ring on your finger. It's like an automatic hazy bubble surrounds you and your whole life is put on hold while you plan for 3 months, 6 months, 12 months, 24 months for the perfect wedding. Mine took me 18 months. I can't quite put my finger on it but there is something about weddings that bring out the best and worst in people.
I have lost friends and gained friends, cried, bawled, laughed, screamed, jumped, tripped, twirled and eventually got my day. I remember thinking after the wedding that I was so glad that "it" was finally over. Don't get me wrong! I loved my wedding day but planning...? Eh not so much.
But just when you think that your wedding has come and gone, you realize that the wedding isn't over that pivotal day that you said "I do". Now the bubble has burst, the world stops moving in slow motion and I am thrown back into the reality of life BUT I am still dealing with wedding related shit. Unlike my sappy wedding wifezilla counterpart, I AM SO OVER WEDDINGS!
(Do it. Call me snarky. I'll fucking wear it as a badge of honor.)
I have lost friends and gained friends, cried, bawled, laughed, screamed, jumped, tripped, twirled and eventually got my day. I remember thinking after the wedding that I was so glad that "it" was finally over. Don't get me wrong! I loved my wedding day but planning...? Eh not so much.
But just when you think that your wedding has come and gone, you realize that the wedding isn't over that pivotal day that you said "I do". Now the bubble has burst, the world stops moving in slow motion and I am thrown back into the reality of life BUT I am still dealing with wedding related shit. Unlike my sappy wedding wifezilla counterpart, I AM SO OVER WEDDINGS!
(Do it. Call me snarky. I'll fucking wear it as a badge of honor.)
SMILF: The Silver Lining
I feel it necessary to go ahead and say that a lot of the time being a SMILF isn't so bad. I talk a lot about how stressful things are and how I basically want to lock myself up in a closet never to be found on many occasions, however, it's not always like that. I have had some less than fun days lately as it relates to my SMILF status, but then I have good days and it really does make it all worth it. I'll try to keep the cheese to a minimum here.
Last night the kids came to stay with us for a week. I was stressed all day at the thought. Really? I have to take care of two little people for a whole week? I am not sure I am programmed for this mentally. But, they arrived at our house and it was the best night we have had in a long time. Both kids were in good moods, both went to bed fine (no tears or "I miss mommy"), and then this morning both kids were again in really good moods. I took them to the babysitter and we had a great morning. Sydney and I talked the whole way there about random funny things and Tyler was being his usual goofy self. It's almost like the buildup to the thought of having little people for a week was worse than when it actually started.
So I have to say - being a SMILF is not always as one might think it is. I don't think anyone knows how it is until you walk in these shoes. You can act like you love it all you want, but honestly, most people I think do not love it 100% of the time. But the good days like I just had keep me going and make it worth it. Days like these save me from my drunkorexic thoughts that might have taken over even just a few days ago. Thank goodness for good days. Swimsuit season is here - I can't have tons of extra calories. Thank you kids. You didn't even know that you contribute to my status as a SMILF, but you do.
Last night the kids came to stay with us for a week. I was stressed all day at the thought. Really? I have to take care of two little people for a whole week? I am not sure I am programmed for this mentally. But, they arrived at our house and it was the best night we have had in a long time. Both kids were in good moods, both went to bed fine (no tears or "I miss mommy"), and then this morning both kids were again in really good moods. I took them to the babysitter and we had a great morning. Sydney and I talked the whole way there about random funny things and Tyler was being his usual goofy self. It's almost like the buildup to the thought of having little people for a week was worse than when it actually started.
So I have to say - being a SMILF is not always as one might think it is. I don't think anyone knows how it is until you walk in these shoes. You can act like you love it all you want, but honestly, most people I think do not love it 100% of the time. But the good days like I just had keep me going and make it worth it. Days like these save me from my drunkorexic thoughts that might have taken over even just a few days ago. Thank goodness for good days. Swimsuit season is here - I can't have tons of extra calories. Thank you kids. You didn't even know that you contribute to my status as a SMILF, but you do.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
SMILF: Now You See Me, Now You Don't
Recently I stumbled across several "stepmom" blogs that are out there and I have to say, I am in heaven reading them. It is so good for me to realize that I am not the only one in the situation that I am, think the things I think (good or bad), and that other people are there to vent to who actually understand both the shitty and the great things that we go through as stepmoms. I mean, being a stepmom is honestly great a lot of the time, but I am not going to lie - it's not all roses and butterflies. Maybe in the beginning I had some warped view of how things would be, but once you are in it, things change and you often times wonder, "What was I thinking? Really? Am I really a stepmom? Am I really relying on some other crazy woman to rule part of my life?" But yes, I did it. I can think "what was I thinking?" all I want, but I fell in love with this man and then what was I going to do? Not marry this amazing man because of his kids? Some people might not. I did. And I am thankful every day for my life even on the bad days. Some days it takes several martinis for me to be sane. I won't lie.
Situations arise all the time that just push me over the edge. For example, let's discuss what I like to call, "Now you see me, now you don't" situation. Maybe not all of you stepmoms have been here but I'm sure some have.
When having small children, there are several events in which both sets of parents will be in the same vicinity. In our situation, it's not pleasant. For example, yesterday at Tyler's T-ball game, Robert handed me a baseball bat as he walked away and said, "Here, in case you need it." He left me with a weapon in the presence of E?! Bad idea Robert. I'm not afraid to use it. Okay, so I wouldn't use it, but in one of those fantastic Ally McBeal fantasies (remember those? Where in her fantasies it would show exactly what she WANTED to do no matter how insane? Loved that.) I walk right up to HER and whack her over the head hard for all of the things that she puts us all through on a daily basis due to her selfishness. In reality, I put a smile on my face and pretend that she doesn't make me want to puke just looking at her. They really should allow alcohol at T-ball games in my opinion. I digress...
With our kids, they are constantly having to baby E because she is a very needy person. She is the mom who has to call all of the time when the kids are at our house and I hear them tell her "I love you too" at least 4 times during a 5 minute conversation when really you can tell they just want to be watching Disney channel and not talking to her. She wants the kids to rely on her for everything and gives them guilt trips on any occasion that she possibly can. Therefore, when we are all in the same place, the kids sometimes get to where they are scared to talk to us or show affection to us because she is there and they don't want to upset her.
I will take this opportunity to tell you that under normal circumstances when the kids are with us, it's like they love us and can't get enough of us. WE are the parents and they love us to death and we have such a good time together. It's not as if though we have a bad relationship with the kids - quite the opposite. This being the case, when we are at events where their mother is also there and the kids act like they don't even know us, it hurts. Badly. They will walk right by us without even saying "hi" if E is around. It's like, okay, so last week I was good enough to wipe your nose, hold the bag while you threw up, brush your hair, tuck you in, play in the pool with you, take you to that party, and buy you a new outfit, but now all of the sudden you don't even see me here?? Now you see me, now you don't. As much as it hurts me, it hurts Robert 10 times more. Here he is, there to see his kids and they barely acknowledge him? But yet tomorrow when we see them, it will be like nothing was ever wrong and like they never even ignored us. Other people must see this go on and think, "wow, I bet that dad never even sees his kids" or "wow, he must not have a good relationship with his kids". NO! Not the case!!!
I understand that in these types of situations, it is not the kids fault. It is her fault for making them feel like they can't speak to two people who they love because it will hurt her. After all, let's not forget, it IS all about her, not the kids. (Gag) That is how she lives her life. Whatever will please her is what goes. All I can do is pray that as the kids get older they will realize how crazy she is and they will realize who were the good parents when they were younger and will continue to be throughout their lives. That doesn't make things easier right now. It pains me greatly to see Robert go through these situations. It also sucks for me - I am their "part time" mother and some days I'm nothing more than a person there at the ballpark I guess. Fun, huh? Hardly.
Stay tuned for more adventures in the world of being the "perfect" SMILF...thanks for listening.
Situations arise all the time that just push me over the edge. For example, let's discuss what I like to call, "Now you see me, now you don't" situation. Maybe not all of you stepmoms have been here but I'm sure some have.
When having small children, there are several events in which both sets of parents will be in the same vicinity. In our situation, it's not pleasant. For example, yesterday at Tyler's T-ball game, Robert handed me a baseball bat as he walked away and said, "Here, in case you need it." He left me with a weapon in the presence of E?! Bad idea Robert. I'm not afraid to use it. Okay, so I wouldn't use it, but in one of those fantastic Ally McBeal fantasies (remember those? Where in her fantasies it would show exactly what she WANTED to do no matter how insane? Loved that.) I walk right up to HER and whack her over the head hard for all of the things that she puts us all through on a daily basis due to her selfishness. In reality, I put a smile on my face and pretend that she doesn't make me want to puke just looking at her. They really should allow alcohol at T-ball games in my opinion. I digress...
With our kids, they are constantly having to baby E because she is a very needy person. She is the mom who has to call all of the time when the kids are at our house and I hear them tell her "I love you too" at least 4 times during a 5 minute conversation when really you can tell they just want to be watching Disney channel and not talking to her. She wants the kids to rely on her for everything and gives them guilt trips on any occasion that she possibly can. Therefore, when we are all in the same place, the kids sometimes get to where they are scared to talk to us or show affection to us because she is there and they don't want to upset her.
I will take this opportunity to tell you that under normal circumstances when the kids are with us, it's like they love us and can't get enough of us. WE are the parents and they love us to death and we have such a good time together. It's not as if though we have a bad relationship with the kids - quite the opposite. This being the case, when we are at events where their mother is also there and the kids act like they don't even know us, it hurts. Badly. They will walk right by us without even saying "hi" if E is around. It's like, okay, so last week I was good enough to wipe your nose, hold the bag while you threw up, brush your hair, tuck you in, play in the pool with you, take you to that party, and buy you a new outfit, but now all of the sudden you don't even see me here?? Now you see me, now you don't. As much as it hurts me, it hurts Robert 10 times more. Here he is, there to see his kids and they barely acknowledge him? But yet tomorrow when we see them, it will be like nothing was ever wrong and like they never even ignored us. Other people must see this go on and think, "wow, I bet that dad never even sees his kids" or "wow, he must not have a good relationship with his kids". NO! Not the case!!!
I understand that in these types of situations, it is not the kids fault. It is her fault for making them feel like they can't speak to two people who they love because it will hurt her. After all, let's not forget, it IS all about her, not the kids. (Gag) That is how she lives her life. Whatever will please her is what goes. All I can do is pray that as the kids get older they will realize how crazy she is and they will realize who were the good parents when they were younger and will continue to be throughout their lives. That doesn't make things easier right now. It pains me greatly to see Robert go through these situations. It also sucks for me - I am their "part time" mother and some days I'm nothing more than a person there at the ballpark I guess. Fun, huh? Hardly.
Stay tuned for more adventures in the world of being the "perfect" SMILF...thanks for listening.
Monday, June 2, 2008
SAHW: Rewind
Please spare me any pyscho-babble you have to try to diagnose why I do not want children. I already know why. Its really quite simple. I am a selfish bitch. And its not the motherly dog persuasion either. I am talking B-I-T-C-H. Bitch.
I fully admit that I am selfish with my time, my husband and my money. All of which gets sucked up by children *IF* you are a good parent. Please do not be disillusioned that nothing changes after you have children. Everything changes. As it should. If you don't accept that your ability to stay out all night or being able to continue indulging your Manolo shoe addiction won't change, you are delusional unless you are Angelina Jolie and have the benjamins to do all of the above.
I know my anti-children decision makes my mother sad but if we're gonna be honest, my worst fear is actually becoming my mother. Think about it? Where do you learn your parenting skills? You learn by mimicking your own parents and how they raised you. You think I am wrong? Stop reading and pick a situation with your kid(s) from memory. Did your mother do the same thing with you? BINGO.
Even though we have a steady relationship now we are far from close. When I was younger we butted heads all the time and to this day I do not agree with her parental decisions on more than one occasion. I know I wasn't the easiest child either so I willingly take 1/2 the blame but sometimes I wonder if she resented having me and that shaped her parenting skills. If we do the math my parents got married in July and I was born in February... July, August, September, October, November, December, January, February. I know I was a preemie but I am not stupid.
Maybe deep down it is more complicated than just being selfish but I can tell you this much... I know I do not want children and at the very least, you should want them. Enough said.
I fully admit that I am selfish with my time, my husband and my money. All of which gets sucked up by children *IF* you are a good parent. Please do not be disillusioned that nothing changes after you have children. Everything changes. As it should. If you don't accept that your ability to stay out all night or being able to continue indulging your Manolo shoe addiction won't change, you are delusional unless you are Angelina Jolie and have the benjamins to do all of the above.
I know my anti-children decision makes my mother sad but if we're gonna be honest, my worst fear is actually becoming my mother. Think about it? Where do you learn your parenting skills? You learn by mimicking your own parents and how they raised you. You think I am wrong? Stop reading and pick a situation with your kid(s) from memory. Did your mother do the same thing with you? BINGO.
Even though we have a steady relationship now we are far from close. When I was younger we butted heads all the time and to this day I do not agree with her parental decisions on more than one occasion. I know I wasn't the easiest child either so I willingly take 1/2 the blame but sometimes I wonder if she resented having me and that shaped her parenting skills. If we do the math my parents got married in July and I was born in February... July, August, September, October, November, December, January, February. I know I was a preemie but I am not stupid.
Maybe deep down it is more complicated than just being selfish but I can tell you this much... I know I do not want children and at the very least, you should want them. Enough said.
Friday, May 30, 2008
BOTB: Weddings
Last week if you had bothered to ask me how I feel about weddings I would have said "I'm so over them." Don't get me wrong I love being able to help my friends with their weddings and I have a sickening sense of pride that I still have every stupid website that has the perfect insert any wedding item imagineable engrained in my brain for all of eternity, but it's really not as much fun when it's not you're own wedding. I admit I was a crazy bride. No, not a bridezilla asshole, just a crazy bride. There's a big difference. One is a crazy asshole the other is just plain looney toons. I was just plain looney toons. Nothing more nothing less.
Now where was I? Oh ya, I was over weddings, I have what seems like a million to go to this summer and I'm in two of them. That's just a lot of wedding maddness for any one person to have to deal with and it certainly didn't help that the first wedding I went to at the beginning of this month was bo-ring. Add to that the fact that the bride and groom didn't even want to hold hands much less kiss or pretend they love each other and it pretty much just dumps it's ass into the dud wedding category.
Then last weekend happened and for the time being my love of weddings has been restored. Sure, the old friends in from out of town helped the situation, but really it was the ceremony that reminded me why weddings are so great.
Let's backtrack a bit.
Leading up to the wedding I had helped my friend, lets call her Diane with quite a few things. Giving her tips and pointers where I could. But poor Diane. Every time she went off and did something on her own it would turn out I had done the same exact thing.
D - "OMG we found the PERFECT song for me to walk down the aisle to."
BOTB - "Sweet! What is it"
D - "Storybook Love. It's by Mark Knopffler. Do you know it."
BOTB (smacks forehead and prepares to break the news) - "Um ya I know it, that's what I walked down the aisle to"
BS - "Nooooooooooooo"
There were a few things like that and I stood by the fact that I did not hold rights to any of it and it was all free game. I was genuine when I said it unlike some ex-bridezillas who would throw a hissy fit. I truly wanted her day to be everything she wanted and who was I to stand in the way of that.
Fastforward to the Wedding Day
As I walked to the entry way and prepared to make my debut as her bridesmaid I heard it. The song I walked down the aisle to *cue tears.* She had told me she decided to use it for the bridal party, but I, not caring so much about weddings, forgot. I walked out with my preassigned groomsman to my favorite part of the song. The point where the music moves you and it brought me right back to just less than a year ago when I was walking towards my hubs to that very song feeling the emotional tugs of the music pull me down the aisle towards the man I loved.
The ceremony started and right away The Art of Marriage was read. While I didn't use it in my ceremony because it's seriously the most overused wedding passage on the face of the earth and if you haven't heard it before you're living under a rock, I did have it on the granite placque-y thing that my bouquet rested on during the ceremony. What? Just because it's overused doesn't mean I can't still like it. Cue more struggling not to cry.
Then the piece de resistance ... the Hands Ceremony. I had been told her hands ceremony was completely different from mine. It wasn't. It was word for word the same thing that was read at my ceremony while I was clinging to my almost-husband's hands looking longingly into his eyes. Yep, that was it, I was no longer paying attention to the bride, I was focused on my husband. The man I love with every bit of myself and couldn't imagine my life without. I was brought right back to that moment when we committed the rest of our lives to each other and I felt all the love I had on our wedding day rush back to me.
When I was reunited with my hubs I asked him if he noticed. He paused and unsurely replied "ya." BULLSHIT. I was sitting there having this uber emotional love inducing experience while my husband was sitting there with his tumb up his ass watching the bride and groom. Motherfucker.
Despite my husband being 100% oblivious. I love weddings again, I love the pure emotion expressed when people are committing themselves to one another. I love the dancing to cheesy song drunk off one too many glasses of champagne and the hook ups. Who doesn't love placing bets on the singles who will hook up after the last dance is done. Most of all though, I love that it's somewhere I 've been before. I know those emotions, I know the pure rush of adreneline, love and holy shit (yes holy shit is an emotion) that fills your body that day. Really, truly, honestly, what's not to love about weddings?
Now where was I? Oh ya, I was over weddings, I have what seems like a million to go to this summer and I'm in two of them. That's just a lot of wedding maddness for any one person to have to deal with and it certainly didn't help that the first wedding I went to at the beginning of this month was bo-ring. Add to that the fact that the bride and groom didn't even want to hold hands much less kiss or pretend they love each other and it pretty much just dumps it's ass into the dud wedding category.
Then last weekend happened and for the time being my love of weddings has been restored. Sure, the old friends in from out of town helped the situation, but really it was the ceremony that reminded me why weddings are so great.
Let's backtrack a bit.
Leading up to the wedding I had helped my friend, lets call her Diane with quite a few things. Giving her tips and pointers where I could. But poor Diane. Every time she went off and did something on her own it would turn out I had done the same exact thing.
D - "OMG we found the PERFECT song for me to walk down the aisle to."
BOTB - "Sweet! What is it"
D - "Storybook Love. It's by Mark Knopffler. Do you know it."
BOTB (smacks forehead and prepares to break the news) - "Um ya I know it, that's what I walked down the aisle to"
BS - "Nooooooooooooo"
There were a few things like that and I stood by the fact that I did not hold rights to any of it and it was all free game. I was genuine when I said it unlike some ex-bridezillas who would throw a hissy fit. I truly wanted her day to be everything she wanted and who was I to stand in the way of that.
Fastforward to the Wedding Day
As I walked to the entry way and prepared to make my debut as her bridesmaid I heard it. The song I walked down the aisle to *cue tears.* She had told me she decided to use it for the bridal party, but I, not caring so much about weddings, forgot. I walked out with my preassigned groomsman to my favorite part of the song. The point where the music moves you and it brought me right back to just less than a year ago when I was walking towards my hubs to that very song feeling the emotional tugs of the music pull me down the aisle towards the man I loved.
The ceremony started and right away The Art of Marriage was read. While I didn't use it in my ceremony because it's seriously the most overused wedding passage on the face of the earth and if you haven't heard it before you're living under a rock, I did have it on the granite placque-y thing that my bouquet rested on during the ceremony. What? Just because it's overused doesn't mean I can't still like it. Cue more struggling not to cry.
Then the piece de resistance ... the Hands Ceremony. I had been told her hands ceremony was completely different from mine. It wasn't. It was word for word the same thing that was read at my ceremony while I was clinging to my almost-husband's hands looking longingly into his eyes. Yep, that was it, I was no longer paying attention to the bride, I was focused on my husband. The man I love with every bit of myself and couldn't imagine my life without. I was brought right back to that moment when we committed the rest of our lives to each other and I felt all the love I had on our wedding day rush back to me.
When I was reunited with my hubs I asked him if he noticed. He paused and unsurely replied "ya." BULLSHIT. I was sitting there having this uber emotional love inducing experience while my husband was sitting there with his tumb up his ass watching the bride and groom. Motherfucker.
Despite my husband being 100% oblivious. I love weddings again, I love the pure emotion expressed when people are committing themselves to one another. I love the dancing to cheesy song drunk off one too many glasses of champagne and the hook ups. Who doesn't love placing bets on the singles who will hook up after the last dance is done. Most of all though, I love that it's somewhere I 've been before. I know those emotions, I know the pure rush of adreneline, love and holy shit (yes holy shit is an emotion) that fills your body that day. Really, truly, honestly, what's not to love about weddings?
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
SMILF: "She ain't here is she?"
I can't imagine what life was like for Robert having the kids all by himself before I came along. Don't get me wrong - he is an amazing father. He is fun, he would do anything for the kids, he makes sure that the kids have a great childhood as much as possible - having said that, he is a bit scatterbrained and I just can't imagine him dealing with two young children on his own. I shudder at the thought.
He tells a funny story of a time that he took the kids (very young at this time) to a barbecue at a friend's house. One of the women at the barbecue offered Tyler a Diet soft drink and he says to her very matter of factly, "My mommy doesn't let us drink that." And the women looks around and says to him with a smile, "Well, she ain't here is she?" (I hate when people say "ain't"...using it only as a quote here).
I think this story strikes me as funny because this woman said what I would like to say all too often..."Well, she ain't here is she?" The thing about kids having two different houses and two different sets of parents is that equals two different sets of rules. In our case, their "other house" is very different than ours on many levels. We are very structured, never late for things, we don't let the kids run wild, etc. I could go on for hours about the differences but I'll spare us both that long list. I'm sure I will get to more of that at a later date and time.
Having two different sets of rules can get confusing for young kids and I get that, but it also sucks for the parents. In addition to that, hearing your stepchild say, "Well, at my mommy's house...blah blah blah," a million times starts to sound like fingernails on a chalkboard. Especially when you could care less to ever hear about "mommy" again because in your book she isn't even worth having her name brought up in any conversation in your house. I mean, I don't give a crap if your mommy let's you run all up and down the mall without being watched. I don't give a crap if your mommy doesn't make you brush your teeth two times a day. I don't give a crap if your mommy lets you jump on the couch. It "ain't" happening at this house and with your SMILF around.
Please always remember, I do adore my stepchildren. I really do. I can't imagine life without them. But, marrying someone with kids and a nutso ex wife definitely keeps things....interesting.
He tells a funny story of a time that he took the kids (very young at this time) to a barbecue at a friend's house. One of the women at the barbecue offered Tyler a Diet soft drink and he says to her very matter of factly, "My mommy doesn't let us drink that." And the women looks around and says to him with a smile, "Well, she ain't here is she?" (I hate when people say "ain't"...using it only as a quote here).
I think this story strikes me as funny because this woman said what I would like to say all too often..."Well, she ain't here is she?" The thing about kids having two different houses and two different sets of parents is that equals two different sets of rules. In our case, their "other house" is very different than ours on many levels. We are very structured, never late for things, we don't let the kids run wild, etc. I could go on for hours about the differences but I'll spare us both that long list. I'm sure I will get to more of that at a later date and time.
Having two different sets of rules can get confusing for young kids and I get that, but it also sucks for the parents. In addition to that, hearing your stepchild say, "Well, at my mommy's house...blah blah blah," a million times starts to sound like fingernails on a chalkboard. Especially when you could care less to ever hear about "mommy" again because in your book she isn't even worth having her name brought up in any conversation in your house. I mean, I don't give a crap if your mommy let's you run all up and down the mall without being watched. I don't give a crap if your mommy doesn't make you brush your teeth two times a day. I don't give a crap if your mommy lets you jump on the couch. It "ain't" happening at this house and with your SMILF around.
Please always remember, I do adore my stepchildren. I really do. I can't imagine life without them. But, marrying someone with kids and a nutso ex wife definitely keeps things....interesting.
This random SMILF vent brought to you by the makers of Grey Goose Vodka...because without that, SMILF's everywhere would be in a lot worse shape than they are.
RHWONY: Defined
Real HouseWife of New York: noun. 1. a woman who does not know how to be second best in a world of the best. 2. one who wants everything. now. in a place where everyone has everything. and it's better than hers.You can forget the countess, that tacky guidette and the poor girl, Alex.
This is a REAL housewife of New York.
This is a REAL housewife of New York.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
BOTB: To baby or not to baby that is the question
Unlike tweedle dee and tweedle dumb (more oftenly known as SAHW and SMILF or is that SMILF and SAHW?) I can't wait to be a mom. A real, live, shitting a watermelon out your cooch mom, preferably one of the SAH persuassion.
When I was younger and in my I'm "12 and I know everything phase" not much different from my current "I'm 25 and know everything phase" I pretty much told my Aunt she was useless because she was a SAHM and didn't do anything else. Open mouth insert foot Now, there's a big difference between the type of SAHM I want to be and the type she was. She was one of those prissy bitches who had a maid come by a few times a week, forced her husband to take the kids to school and practices an then had the balls to complain about how tough her life was. If I EVER become that much of a sniviling whiny craphole of a mom someone please just shoot me. TIA
I refuse to be like that because unlike my Aunt I actually love kids, I think they're even better than sliced bread. If I could somehow stay home with my someday babies I would be in heaven. Not because I'd get to be a lazy ass who did nothing with her life and complained about it, but because it would give me the opportunity to really be there for my kids, giving them all the love and tenderness and bitchslap ... I mean dicipline they could ever need. I want my kids to respect me, but at the same time know that they can come to me when they need something. I want to be there for every soccer game and every practice, recitle whatever it is I want to be there. I want to give up life as I know it so that my kids can have every opportunity I can provide them. Basically, I want to be like my parents.
My parents were seriously the perfect parents. Sure at 16 I thought they had their flaws, but looking back at my life I'm in awe of them because I was somehow lucky enough to have parents that would do anything and more for my brother and I. We were their world, their life, their everything. While on one hand we were spoiled with their love and time, we were always well rounded kids who could stand up for ourselves and were never spoiled with material things. Sure, my mom went to every store known to man to get me the silly TalkBoy (or whatever it was called) from Home Alone 2, but we certainly never got everything we wanted. My parents gave up 20 years of their life literally doing almost nothing for themselves because they were happier doing for us. If I can be half the parents they were and be half as in love with my hubs as they still are after 30+ years of marriage I will be one lucky bitch.
Which brings me to my current predicament. I want babies so very badly. I can't wait to have them. I not so secretly hope for an accident, but then I stop and think about the type of parent I want to be and I say to myself ohh fuck no. There is no way I'm ready to give up my life for anyone yet. My husband is even worse than I am, but at least he has the common sense to know it. I go through these wonderful phases of being blissfully unaware of all the consequences of shitting out babies, but then there are those days when I stop and say to myself umm, we're in debit, we live in the crappiest apt on the face of the earth and there's still so much I want to do before I give up everything for kiddies. What the hell am I thinking? I know I want them for selfish reasons at this point and that's the main reason I should wait.
How can you want kids so badly and stop yourself from being selfish enough to have them before you're ready? I know I know you're never really ready, but...On some level I feel like I'll never live up to my parents.
Hmm if only I could win the lottery I'd be set. I could buy a house, travel and pay off our debit all before having kids. I think if I got all that I might be read. Anyone know how to magically win the lotto? If you want to give me a million bucks that should do it too. Come on make my dreams of babies come true you know you want to.
When I was younger and in my I'm "12 and I know everything phase" not much different from my current "I'm 25 and know everything phase" I pretty much told my Aunt she was useless because she was a SAHM and didn't do anything else. Open mouth insert foot Now, there's a big difference between the type of SAHM I want to be and the type she was. She was one of those prissy bitches who had a maid come by a few times a week, forced her husband to take the kids to school and practices an then had the balls to complain about how tough her life was. If I EVER become that much of a sniviling whiny craphole of a mom someone please just shoot me. TIA
I refuse to be like that because unlike my Aunt I actually love kids, I think they're even better than sliced bread. If I could somehow stay home with my someday babies I would be in heaven. Not because I'd get to be a lazy ass who did nothing with her life and complained about it, but because it would give me the opportunity to really be there for my kids, giving them all the love and tenderness and bitchslap ... I mean dicipline they could ever need. I want my kids to respect me, but at the same time know that they can come to me when they need something. I want to be there for every soccer game and every practice, recitle whatever it is I want to be there. I want to give up life as I know it so that my kids can have every opportunity I can provide them. Basically, I want to be like my parents.
My parents were seriously the perfect parents. Sure at 16 I thought they had their flaws, but looking back at my life I'm in awe of them because I was somehow lucky enough to have parents that would do anything and more for my brother and I. We were their world, their life, their everything. While on one hand we were spoiled with their love and time, we were always well rounded kids who could stand up for ourselves and were never spoiled with material things. Sure, my mom went to every store known to man to get me the silly TalkBoy (or whatever it was called) from Home Alone 2, but we certainly never got everything we wanted. My parents gave up 20 years of their life literally doing almost nothing for themselves because they were happier doing for us. If I can be half the parents they were and be half as in love with my hubs as they still are after 30+ years of marriage I will be one lucky bitch.
Which brings me to my current predicament. I want babies so very badly. I can't wait to have them. I not so secretly hope for an accident, but then I stop and think about the type of parent I want to be and I say to myself ohh fuck no. There is no way I'm ready to give up my life for anyone yet. My husband is even worse than I am, but at least he has the common sense to know it. I go through these wonderful phases of being blissfully unaware of all the consequences of shitting out babies, but then there are those days when I stop and say to myself umm, we're in debit, we live in the crappiest apt on the face of the earth and there's still so much I want to do before I give up everything for kiddies. What the hell am I thinking? I know I want them for selfish reasons at this point and that's the main reason I should wait.
How can you want kids so badly and stop yourself from being selfish enough to have them before you're ready? I know I know you're never really ready, but...On some level I feel like I'll never live up to my parents.
Hmm if only I could win the lottery I'd be set. I could buy a house, travel and pay off our debit all before having kids. I think if I got all that I might be read. Anyone know how to magically win the lotto? If you want to give me a million bucks that should do it too. Come on make my dreams of babies come true you know you want to.
SAHW: Deconstructed
I know what you're thinking...
What the hell does a Stay At Home Wife do if there are no drool monsters to take care of? Stop. Just stop. I don't need any Suzy Homemakers telling me that its only worthwhile to stay at home if you have children. I already have a mother-in-law who fills the position quite nicely. Don't get me wrong. I love this woman like my own mother but she's got a chronic sickness that is medically defined as granchildrenitis. Its a constant and neverending pain. I think she's going to start a foundation soon.
Contrary to popular belief I am not a baby hater. I adore children. Let me clarify. I adore "other people's children" because when I am done holding your crap factories, I can give it back to you and relish in the fact that I do not own a diaper genie. See the beauty of the sitch? Now you're seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I know you do.
But can someone explain this phenomenon to me?
Why do complete strangers feel its their right to tell me that I need... No wait... its my *DUTY* to have children now that I am married? Since when are women defined by that school yard jump rope mentality: first-comes-marriage-then-comes-kids narrow brick road?
Not this bitch. ::pointing emphatically at self::
Thank you very much.
What the hell does a Stay At Home Wife do if there are no drool monsters to take care of? Stop. Just stop. I don't need any Suzy Homemakers telling me that its only worthwhile to stay at home if you have children. I already have a mother-in-law who fills the position quite nicely. Don't get me wrong. I love this woman like my own mother but she's got a chronic sickness that is medically defined as granchildrenitis. Its a constant and neverending pain. I think she's going to start a foundation soon.
Contrary to popular belief I am not a baby hater. I adore children. Let me clarify. I adore "other people's children" because when I am done holding your crap factories, I can give it back to you and relish in the fact that I do not own a diaper genie. See the beauty of the sitch? Now you're seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I know you do.
But can someone explain this phenomenon to me?
Why do complete strangers feel its their right to tell me that I need... No wait... its my *DUTY* to have children now that I am married? Since when are women defined by that school yard jump rope mentality: first-comes-marriage-then-comes-kids narrow brick road?
Not this bitch. ::pointing emphatically at self::
Thank you very much.
SMILF: Will starve for martinis
It's no secret to anyone around me that I am constantly obsessing over how I look. I am not one that has to dress to the nines every day or anything (or even to the eights for that matter....) but keeping my size 4 in check is constantly on my mind. I have to be the hottest SMILF at soccer games you know.
My one vice in life is having a cocktail after work on shitty days. Okay. Maybe that is a close second to my love of all things fashion, but they are all very close. Conversation that I have with myself at least once a week at work:
"I really want to reach over and drink that bag of M&M's." Yes, drink. As in, turn the bag completely upside down and just pour them in my mouth like a nice big glass of ice water on a hot day. But I don't do that. And you know why? Because I constantly have a calculator in my head of calorie intake
I then say to myself, "Nope, I don't want to use up 250 calories on this bag of M&M's because that is almost two martinis later and I want those way more!"
So, I promptly put down the bag and look forward to my martini that will replace the chocolately goodness later in the day.
Here I was thinking that I was being all smart. Not smart...really, I should replace both things with some veggies and fruit but that is what I live on in my life so a girl has to do what a girl has to do sometimes to get her fix. This morning I was reading my local news online as I always do when I should be working, and I come across an article about "Drunkorexia". It caught my eye. Doesn't that sound like some made up name that Perez Hilton or someone would name a celebrity who resembled a skeleton trying to sit on a bar stool at Bungalow 8 every night? But it's not. Defined:
Drunkorexia is a new slang term that describes the practice of restricting food intake in order to drink more alcohol.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Wait a minute? Does my practice of making sure I don't have too many calories during the day so I can have my martini at night fall into this? It goes on further to say:
"If you are doing mental algebra to compensate or manage your drinking in response to your eating, simply that sign is worrisome."
Me doing algebra in my head at any point for any reason should be worrisome. So what the hell does this mean? They are now labeling people who cut down on food during the day to have drinks at night? Slow down medical field. I'm just trying to still look like SMILF Barbie and not have to be put on anxiety medicine. I've done the eating disorder thing before - this is not it.
I'm not trying to belittle this problem - I think eating disorders are a painful thing to go through so if this leads to that, then it could be a problem. But I know I am not the only woman out there who does this. Come on. Don't lie. And I can guarantee you that in college I led the "Drunkorexic" phase of skipping meals for alcohol. It's called, "Being 19 and a fucking idiot".
Anyone want to start up "DA" with me? Drunkorexics Anonymous? We can all be skinny and fabulous and drink martinis all night at the meetings. You know you want to.
My one vice in life is having a cocktail after work on shitty days. Okay. Maybe that is a close second to my love of all things fashion, but they are all very close. Conversation that I have with myself at least once a week at work:
"I really want to reach over and drink that bag of M&M's." Yes, drink. As in, turn the bag completely upside down and just pour them in my mouth like a nice big glass of ice water on a hot day. But I don't do that. And you know why? Because I constantly have a calculator in my head of calorie intake
I then say to myself, "Nope, I don't want to use up 250 calories on this bag of M&M's because that is almost two martinis later and I want those way more!"
So, I promptly put down the bag and look forward to my martini that will replace the chocolately goodness later in the day.
Here I was thinking that I was being all smart. Not smart...really, I should replace both things with some veggies and fruit but that is what I live on in my life so a girl has to do what a girl has to do sometimes to get her fix. This morning I was reading my local news online as I always do when I should be working, and I come across an article about "Drunkorexia". It caught my eye. Doesn't that sound like some made up name that Perez Hilton or someone would name a celebrity who resembled a skeleton trying to sit on a bar stool at Bungalow 8 every night? But it's not. Defined:
Drunkorexia is a new slang term that describes the practice of restricting food intake in order to drink more alcohol.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Wait a minute? Does my practice of making sure I don't have too many calories during the day so I can have my martini at night fall into this? It goes on further to say:
"If you are doing mental algebra to compensate or manage your drinking in response to your eating, simply that sign is worrisome."
Me doing algebra in my head at any point for any reason should be worrisome. So what the hell does this mean? They are now labeling people who cut down on food during the day to have drinks at night? Slow down medical field. I'm just trying to still look like SMILF Barbie and not have to be put on anxiety medicine. I've done the eating disorder thing before - this is not it.
I'm not trying to belittle this problem - I think eating disorders are a painful thing to go through so if this leads to that, then it could be a problem. But I know I am not the only woman out there who does this. Come on. Don't lie. And I can guarantee you that in college I led the "Drunkorexic" phase of skipping meals for alcohol. It's called, "Being 19 and a fucking idiot".
Anyone want to start up "DA" with me? Drunkorexics Anonymous? We can all be skinny and fabulous and drink martinis all night at the meetings. You know you want to.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
SMILF: Defined
Defined: SMILF: a StepMother I would Like to Fuck; i.e., “dude your stepmom is a SMILF”
Actual conversation:
15-year-old girl: “Mom, do you think there is something wrong with someone who thinks they do NOT want to have kids? I really don’t think that I ever will.” 15 year old is really thinking…please don’t make me baby-sit those brats EVER again.
Mom: “No honey, lots of people make the choice to not have kids. Either way is completely fine.” Mother is really thinking…please don’t go out and have sex just because some sluts in your class at school are doing it. Once you get a degree and marry a doctor, then please bless me with grandchildren. You will change your mind by then.
One of the many conversations I remember having with my mother in my earlier days. Any person in their right mind knows that a 15-year-old girl shouldn’t worry about things like kids. I think some of my friends biological clocks started ticking early on though. Like we would see a hot man with a baby carriage and they are all, “That is so hot! I want a piece of that!” They thought he was hot because he was pushing a baby carriage? Um, YOO HOO – lost on aisle 24. What is hot about that?
I didn’t stay 15 forever. The not wanting kids part though? That didn’t change. I have no desire to birth children. None. Go ahead – say it. “Aw, you will change your mind!” I won’t. It’s done. The jig is up.
My husband supports this thankfully. Yes, I am married. I have been married for about a year give or take. I fell hard and fast for my husband. When did I know that he was “THE ONE” (really, what does that mean anyway? Is that like when you are trying to pick the best French fry off of your plate to save for last-the ONE)? For all of you saps out there, I will say that I knew when he learned to play my favorite Norah Jones song on the guitar – showed up at my apartment with pizza and wine (Yes, I eat…don’t tell anyone) and played and sang that song for me. For those of you who want the real skinny? I think when we took a shower together one time and he reached down and popped a pimple (you know you’ve had them) on my ass. I let him and didn’t even want to crawl into a hole and die because he knew I had things like butt pimples.
This man was perfect. Attractive, intelligent, great job, funny, the nicest person I had ever met – show me where to sign the marriage license please. There was a catch though. Isn’t there always? He was known as “Robert”, “Bob”, “Bobby”…but his other name? “Daddy”. That is right. I had done the ultimate. Fallen in love with a divorced man with two children. If you would have told me at 15 when I had that conversation with my mother that THIS would happen I would have looked for the nearest dull butter knife and went to town on my wrists. I can almost hear the horror film music playing at this moment. I HATE kids! What am I going to do?!
Okay cut the horror music. I love this man with all of my heart – he quickly became my best friend and someone I could not live without. Kids or no kids, I was swept away like a hairball from a shedding cat. So in my big white dress in front of all of my friends and family, I became not only a wife, but a SMILF. Oh, and let’s not forget that to the kids mother, I was now, “the young, hot woman who married my ex husband and who my kids now love”. Do you want me to get all storybook on you and tell you that we are all best friends and sit together at the kids sporting events? Who do you think I am? Cinder-fucking-rella? This is not storybook. This is real life as a SMILF. Without further adieu let me introduce to my family....(I am changing the names for practical purposes)
Robert: My wonderful husband who is the best man I have ever met in all ways. Happens to have a crazy ass selfish ex wife who believes the world revolves around her. Also has two amazing children from that marriage.
Sydney: My 8 year old stepdaughter. She is one of the sweetest little girls I've ever met. Very into art, Disney channel, and music. Also has issues that I believe stem from how her mother is raising her which makes things colorful for everyone involved.
Tyler: My 4 year old stepson. He is a riot nearly all of the time. Such a good little person - doesn't throw fits, polite, very friendly, etc. Never know what will come out of his mouth - in a funny way, not a "go stand in the corner" kind of way. Pretty much marches to the beat of his own drum thank goodness. I hope he escapes the issues. Loves sports, Hot Wheels, and Spiderman.
E: E is short for "the Enemy" which is what Robert and I call the kids mother. Takes decent enough care of the kids when it's convenient for her. Extremely selfish, dependent on others 100% of the time, needy, manipulative, bipolar, jealous...need I go on? I feel that when she hangs up the phone with the kids after she has made them cry she just stares at the receiver and cackles like a witch.
I might introduce more characters along the way, but these are the main ones in my life. Regardless of if I want all 4 in my life or not. I could definitely do without the last one.
Meet "RHWONY"
MWF with the need to be the best at everything...cooking, baking, entertaining, staying fit, interior decorating and basically just existing and being fabulous. Any jealous haters need not apply...I've got enough in my life.
Smoked pot -- $20 at least once a weekend in high school.
Did acid -- $20
Ever had sex at church -- $50
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you-- $20 his name was definitely Derek "like oil derek" he said
Had sex with someone you met on My Space -- $1,000.00
Had sex for money -- $50
Vandalized something -- $500 does an empty sixer of wine coolers in a USPS mailbox to hide evidence count?
Had sex on your parents' bed -- $50
Beat up someone -- $50
Been jumped -- $10
Crossed dressed -- $50 this is amateur when you're a woman.
Given money to stripper -- $20 I think I'm owed an extra $20 bc the stripper was my friend, no?
Been in love with a stripper -- $50
Kissed some one who's name you didn't know --$100
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work-- $50
Ever drive drunk -- $20 Ashamed to admit it, but most Fridays after Happy Hour at my old job. I'm done with that junk.
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $30 I definitely chaperoned a middle school prom, went out after and reported to field day the following day in less than stellar shape.
Used toys while having sex -- $30 duh.
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $100 I could really rack up some major bucks here if you let me count each time.
Went skinny dipping -- $50 You wish you had photos.
Had sex in a pool -- $20
Kissed someone of the same sex -- $50 Let's be honest, who doesn't want that attention?
Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $200
Cheated on your significant other -- $100 Let's be clear...NOT my husband.
Masturbated -- $50 Has anyone not?
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend --$300 and then made them hate their friend who told on us because I said he was lying? yup. And it was his friend...not even that close...I'll take half that money to be fair
Done oral -- $50 seriously?
Got oral -- $5 would I have married him if I hadn't?
Done / got oral in a car while it was moving-- $25 long drives get boring.
Stole something -- $10 I was young and in need of eyeliner.
Had sex with someone in jail -- $50
Made a nasty home video -- $50
Had a threesome -- $100
Had sex in the wild -- $20 I don't really do "wild." I'm from NYC. Get real. But the beach counts.
Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $50 and had sex at the same time...and did it better.
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $50
Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $100
Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $20
Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $20
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $20 Couldn't break the boy's heart, could I?
Went streaking -- $50
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $50
Been arrested -- $100
Spent time in jail -- $500
Peed in the pool -- $20 isn't that what chlorine's for?
Played spin the bottle -- $20 when I was like 12, really?
Done something you regret -- $100.00 who hasn't?
Had sex with your best friend >-- $500.00 he's my hub.
Had sex with someone you work with at work --$50
Had anal sex -- $50
Lied to your mate -- $5 little white.
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $20
Bail me out for $2015!
Monday, May 19, 2008
Meet "BOTB"
MWF with BOTB. Looking to get pregnant ASAP. Ex-nympho turned ambivalent looking for magical Jesus-like immaculate conception. If you can get my husband baby ready you're the one for me!
Smoked pot -- $20 ahh one of my favorite pastimes in college
Dropped acid -- $20 you should see the tripping sex tape ;)
Ever had sex at church -- $50 ... no but would a graveyard count?
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you-- $20
Had sex with someone you met on My Space -- $1,000.00
Had sex for money -- $50
Vandalized something -- $500 TP-ing and forking are fun
Had sex on your parents' bed -- $50 Of course, they have a water bed
Beat up someone -- $50
Been jumped -- $10
Crossed dressed -- $50 I dressed up as a boy for Halloween one year. That counts right?
Given money to stripper -- $20 - money and blow
Been in love with a stripper -- $50
Kissed some one who's name you didn't know --$100 oh god ya
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work-- $50 only work with guys
Ever drive drunk -- $20 - most fun drive of my entire life ... I will never do it again
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $30 ya and it sucks
Used toys while having sex -- $30 - I love my 2 foot glass dildo (It's double sided get your mind out of the gutter I don't have a 2 foot vaj)
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $100 pretty much every weekend of my senior year of high school
Went skinny dipping -- $50 - in the ocean
Had sex in a pool -- $20 - yes but I don't like squeaky water sex so that was a one time thing
Kissed someone of the same sex -- $50 then was banned from ever doing it again ... long story
Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $200
Cheated on your significant other -- $100 – ya but I cheated on him with my future hubs so that makes it ok
Masturbated -- $50 everyone should do it
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend --$300 it’s complicated
Done oral -- $50
Got oral -- $5
Done / got oral in a car while it was moving-- $25 - please I've had sex with the driver of the vehicle of course I've given and received road head
Stole something -- $10 I used to steal books from school when I was in first grade
Had sex with someone in jail -- $50
Made a nasty home video -- $50 I have a whole collection
Had a threesome -- $100 w00t me and two guys. Jealous?
Had sex in the wild -- $20 love love love outdoor sex golf courses, under bridges, in the woods, on the beach yum!
Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $50 it's called college
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $50
Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $100 … ok it was 9 years and some months, but I was 16 and he was married so that makes up for the few lost months
Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $20
Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $20 that's another it's complicated
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $20 ya I lived with the asshole too
Went streaking -- $50
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $50 It was because I had to not because I wanted to...
Been arrested -- $100
Spent time in jail -- $500
Peed in the pool -- $20 – I was a swimmer. I’ve peed in the pool, on the deck in the showers ...
Played spin the bottle -- $20
Done something you regret -- $100.00 if you haven’t you haven’t lived
Had sex with your best friend -- $500.00 I fucked him then I married him years later
Had sex with someone you work with at work --$50
Had anal sex -- $50 and love it, but I quit and don’t do it anymore
Lied to your mate -- $5 who hasn't?
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $20 Again, who hasn’t?
My bail is *gulp* $2845
Meet "SMILF"
Child hater turned SMILF - ISO way to juggle being perfect, pleasing everyone, & not committing murder all while wearing 4 inch heels and a big smile. Seeks perfect body on potato chip, pizza, and wine diet. Rx drugs & plastic surgery need not apply.
Smoked pot -- $20 I tried it one time. I blame the vast amounts of Everclear that were consumed beforehand.
Did acid -- $20
Ever had sex at church -- $50
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you-- $20 I knew his first name but not sure who he was exactly or where I was exactly
Had sex with someone you met on My Space -- $1,000.00
Had sex for money -- $50
Vandalized something -- $500 As rebel children my friends and I toilet papered people we hated. Also put shaving cream on their cars and soaped them. Horrid children we were.
Had sex on your parents' bed -- $50
Beat up someone -- $50
Been jumped -- $10
Crossed dressed -- $50 I was a baseball player for Halloween one year complete with cup. I kind of liked it.
Given money to stripper -- $20 I should get extra points for giving it to her with my teeth and her taking it with her massive fake breasts.
Been in love with a stripper -- $50
Kissed some one who's name you didn't know --$100 Story of my early 20's until I became bored
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work-- $50
Ever drive drunk -- $20 Yes and it's very wrong. But I totally made everyone buckle up. That is good right?
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $30 I do not recommend this. Seeing your desk spin in front of you is not a good thing.
Used toys while having sex -- $30 Outfits, props, toys...I like things interesting
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $100 My friends and I lived to discuss the missing details of the previous night when we were going out regularly. Good therapy sessions.
Went skinny dipping -- $50 Had to rinse the sand off of our bodies somehow...
Had sex in a pool -- $20
Kissed someone of the same sex -- $50 Yes and I'll stick to my husband, thanks
Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $200
Cheated on your significant other -- $100 Not my husband. I'll just say that.
Masturbated -- $50 Everyone should do this.
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend --$300
Done oral -- $50 I'm a good wife
Got oral -- $5 One of my husband's favorite things to do. He asks to do it. Yes, he's perfect.
Done / got oral in a car while it was moving-- $25 My husband enjoys his long road trips with me... ;)
Stole something -- $10
Had sex with someone in jail -- $50
Made a nasty home video -- $50 Wouldn't you like to know? Okay, okay....
Had a threesome -- $100
Had sex in the wild -- $20 Deserted beach in the middle of nowhere with scary crabs crawling around counts as wild to me
Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $50
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $50
Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $100 I do it nearly every day
Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $20
Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $20
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $20 Shame on me. Early 20's were so wishy washy.
Went streaking -- $50
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $50
Been arrested -- $100
Spent time in jail -- $500
Peed in the pool -- $20 Everyone has done this. Don't lie.
Played spin the bottle -- $20
Done something you regret -- $100.00 No, I'm perfect. HELL yes I've done things I regret.
Had sex with your best friend -- $500.00 I do this nearly every day as well.
Had sex with someone you work with at work --$50
Had anal sex -- $50 I didn't see it coming. Accidental. Or so he claims.
Lied to your mate -- $5 A "yes" to this isn't as bad as it sounds...
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $20
My bail is $2035 - don't spend that on my bail. Go buy a nice new purse instead.
Meet "SAHW"
I am a SAHW that knows what she wants. She doesn't want to be a SAHM. All babies' daddies need not apply.
Smoked pot -- $20 Just FYI, sex is so incredible when you are high.
Did acid -- $20
Ever had sex at church -- $50
Woke up in the morning and did not know the person who was next to you-- $20
Had sex with someone you met on My Space -- $1,000
Had sex for money -- $50
Vandalized something -- $500 Rank eggs+toilet papering her car counts esp if she tried to get with your bff's man.
Had sex on your parents' bed -- $50
Beat up someone -- $50 She fucked around with my man. Oh hell nah...
Been jumped -- $10
Crossed dressed -- $50 It was halloween. It happens.
Given money to stripper -- $20 Just doing my part to support the performing arts.
Been in love with a stripper -- $50
Kissed someone who's name you didn't know -- $100 Sure. why not.
Hit on some one of the same sex while at work-- $50
Ever drive drunk -- $20 Better me than the person who was unconscious
Ever got drunk at work, or went to work while still drunk -- $30 Who hasn't?
Used toys while having sex -- $30 Gotta keep my man happy in the sack
Got drunk, passed out and don't remember the night before -- $100 No comment because I obviously don't remember
Went skinny dipping -- $50 Thats like a right of passage in high school --> college right?
Had sex in a pool -- $20 It was so cold but it wasn't the water that gave me chills.
Kissed someone of the same sex -- $50 I gave myself the money for a cheek kiss. Sue me.
Had sex with someone of the same sex -- $200
Cheated on your significant other -- $100 It was not my husband but still not proud of it
Masturbated -- $50 Gotta keep ME happy in the sack.
Cheated on your significant other with their relative or close friend --$300
Done oral -- $50
Got oral -- $5 What goes around comes around. Just saying...
Done / got oral in a car while it was moving-- $25
Stole something -- $10 I was 5 years old! I really wanted that headband. It had sparkles.
Had sex with someone in jail -- $50
Made a nasty home video -- $50
Had a threesome -- $100
Had sex in the wild -- $20
Been in the same room while someone was having sex -- $50 A memory I care not to revisit.
Stole something worth over more than a hundred dollars -- $50 What if it was actually a $100? I stole it from my roommate's one-night-stand's wallet after he passed out on my dorm floor.
Had sex with someone 10 years older -- $100
Had sex with someone under 21 and you are over 27 -- $20
Been in love with two people or more at the same time -- $20 Yes. I do not believe you only get 1 true love.
Said you love someone but didn't mean it -- $20
Went streaking -- $50 In all my bouncing au natural DD glory.
Went streaking in broad daylight -- $50
Been arrested -- $100
Spent time in jail -- $500
Peed in the pool -- $20 Don't even try to convince yourself that you never have.
Played spin the bottle -- $20 Isn't this mandatory at junior high parties?
Done something you regret -- $100 Who hasn't? Maybe Mother Theresa? But I still think even she has skeletons.
Had sex with your best friend -- $500 My husband is my best friend. Doesn't get any cheesier than that.
Had sex with someone you work with at work -- $50
Had anal sex -- $50
Lied to your mate -- $5 Don't kid yourself. And its not just you. He's lied to you too.
Lied to your mate about the sex being good -- $20 I admit it. What mate hasn't?
Bail me out! $2140
Be honest. Whats your bail?
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