single with vodkagood girl gone bad

1. as i wheel out my groceries at wegman’s, i frequently watch the cart-jockeys, as i like to call them, scoot about (when i am not wandering around like a mental patient looking for where i parked my car & obsessively playing auto marco polo with my car key beepy thingy in the hopes of using sonar to locate it like i am fucking bat), i decided that it must be one of the suckiest suburban jobs to have. you never get a feeling of satisfaction that you completed your task because the minute you think you’re done, some jappy bitch on her cell phone leaves a cart in the middle of the parking lot. you’re mostly in all kinds of bad weather; plus, you have to gather all the crap people leave behind in their carts (guilty as charged, your honor) & dispose of it.

2. . i have seriously considered writing a book called suburban girl: a life spent in wegman’s & nordstrom‘s since i have spent a great deal of my milf life in these two places. i oft wonder if i will be still sitting there in 30 years drinking coffee & eating salads with the same yentas after the senior bus drops me off there.

3. another job that i am sure would suck: being the asshole that puts those flyers underneath everybody’s windshields. dude, we all fucking hate you & pitch those things immediately. if i eat take out from your restaurant i already have your menu. if i don’t, your restaurant sucks. i don’t need my gd windows cleaned and i am not getting my cleaning service, pet sitter, babysitter, or math tutor from a randomly placed flyer in a parking lot i was in for 10 minutes. ditto for the mailbox & door flyer stuffers. way to go tree-killing litter makers.

4. i have absolutely no issue with gay people. i wholeheartedly support you & your freedom to do anything you want including having your own logo, but what made you think you could take the rainbow, something so universally & innocently loved by adults & children alike, & just claim it like that? i happen to love rainbows & now can not wear them or display them ever again. you should have asked the rest of us earthmates if we minded if you borrowed it. what happened to your pink triangle? we had no issue with that. we thought it was clever and it wasn’t in our everyday vernacular. case in point: the story of my dad & “the rainbow.” once upon a time, my parents were vacationing in rehobeth beach which apparently has or caters to a large gay population. my parents were patronizing the local haberdashery as it was my father’s custom to buy a bb cap as a memento of his travels. so, my dad spied a cap with a rainbow on it that he really liked. he brings it up to the cashier, where the woman is just looking at him oddly b/c he is obviously not the typical dude to buy this kind of headgear. finally after an uncomfortable silence, she says, “sir, i don’t know how to tell you this, but this cap signifies the gay lifestyle, & i can’t let you buy it & walk out of here without knowing that.” my dad gratefully chose another cap. and that is my exact point, rainbow hoarders, we all dig the rainbow and i want it back as communal property.

p.s. after sharing this rant with one of my friends, the reply was, “don’t worry, you still have unicorns.” witty, but not the same fucking thing.

p.p.s. i took that picture of the rainbow above from my car – guess from which locale i was departing? nordstrom. i am nothing, if not consistent.

5. i was way ahead of my time as a curly haired girl. humidity has always ruled my social life. in high school i used hand cream to smooth out my frizzies & deep conditioned regularly. in college i had a major curl routine which involved a complicated pattern of wisps. i had figured out how to control the locks. now its a billion dollar industry. unlike al gore & the internet, i am sure i didn’t invent the frizz control products, but where were you when i needed you in the 80′s and the 90′s before straightening irons hit the scene? hmmmmmm? now i have 32 varieties of frizz fighters under my bathroom sink & have to be monitored in the hair care section to prevent me from buying any more.

6. it is a little known fact that wifedom & motherhood is fancy for “keeper of the crap.” i am keeper of all the items in my house. i know where every single thing is in my house and will withhold that info when asked for a missing thing if i am pissed at the crap seeker. first of all even, though i was unanimously appointed keeper of all things rosenthal pre-divorce filing, i didn’t ask to be elected (post filing, the head mental patient keeps it all under deadbolt & key. never know what a disgruntled ex-wife to be might do to your precious concert tees, mr. paranoia). i don’t care about your crap, darlings. i know where my stuff is. i wield the power of my elected position irresponsibly when i feel like it and throw stuff out whenever i damn well please. sometimes my kids catch me & pull stuff out of the garbage and i ain’t the least bit remorseful. i hate the mounds of stuff that results from combining 2 lives & adding kids to it. i hate the endless purchasing of unnecessary crap for said kids due to multiple grandparent inability to say “NO,” & new super-daddy overindulgence. just viewing the sheer volume of useless crap causes me to need a xanax. i don’t look at my pending divorce as losing 1/2 of my shit, i am divorcing all of his crap. another bennie. yay failed marriage!

7. ever have people in your life you have been just acquaintances with for so long that you don’t remember how you even know them? and it has never progressed beyond the “hello, how are you?” (and “please don’t really tell me because i don’t really give a shit anyway.”) stage? i usually have no interest in pursuing it past that with said people. well eventually i get sick of the routine & just stop saying hello without even trying to feign not seeing them in front of me. then i am actually relieved i cut it off already. turns out i am one of those aforementioned “snotty bitches.”

8. let’s all agree to stop pretending to be horrified when we get a re-gift or find out someone we know got one. you know you have all done it for a variety of reasons: to save money, to get rid of something you dislike but can’t return, you plain forgot to buy a gift & it’s the last minute, or maybe you really just don’t give a shit about the person for whom you have to get a gift. if it’s unused, wrapped, or has tags, it’s new. what is the bfd? get over it. if you get a re-gift you don’t want, pass it on. just make sure you are passing on a re-gift of equal value or greater to a previous gift you received from that person. and whatever you do, keep tabs of who bought you or your kids what. i once re-gifted the exact gift someone got for my kid’s b-day to their kid a month later. awwwkwaaaard.

9. the real reason i never got a tattoo is not that i am morally opposed to them or find them that offensive. not even the imagined pain bugs me. i find miami ink fascinating but i am not a huge fan by any means of the major coverage tattoo. i can see how a small, hidden one is cute. sexy even, because only a special few would get a peek. the real reason is that i can’t commit to one thing being on my body forever. i change my hairstyle & color every time i go to the salon & re-invent my personal style seasonally (= a reason for shopping). i would get bored with whatever i got eventually and we all know how i do with remorse. also the places i would want to get one are so done already: the tramp stamp, the treasure trail, etc. last july, i was very close to getting a “fuck you, i am getting divorced” tat of the japanese kanjii for strength (chikara), but opted for a necklace that said it instead and guess what? i got tired of wearing that damn necklace because the phase had finally passed. life really is just a series of phases anyway, as someone quite wise once told me.