Posts Tagged: facebook


8
Apr 10

spring cleaning

i don’t know what it is about being on the verge of a season change that inspires me to clean. just as winter is begrudgingly winding down and giving way to the coming of warmer climes, i have the strongest urge to bust out the pink rubber gloves. so, of course, it follows that i have a Spring Cleaning Procedure that includes, but is not limited to, major household restoration, closet purging, clothes swapping, cobweb scouring, family haircutting, colon cleansing, officially changing the sheets from flannel to cotton, and intense personal grooming. i do all this by employing a completely anal retentive organizational strategy that verges on pathological which covers every nook and cranny of my life – hell i even cleared out the voice mail box on my cell and y’all know how much i hate to do that.

after scrubbing my house all sparkly clean from top to bottom with earth un-friendly cleaning products, and purging the house of enough stuff to fill 17 contractor size trash bags which will sit in landfills for the next millennium, it is time for the official Changing Of The Closets (if you are lucky enough to have several closets all to yourself. in my case it is the Changing Of The Giant Tupperware Containers. or for those of you that watch late night infomercials, The Changing Of The Space Bags. none of this to be confused with The Changing Of The Guard).  and it absolutely never fails that every year i suffer from premature closetation. this is a yearly condition in which i become convinced that the unseasonably warm weather (98 degrees for 3 days in march) is here to stay and i eject the winter clothes from my closet, put all the coats into long term storage and take out the flip flops in time for the last record breaking noreaster of the season (i guess i am just a hopelessly thermometer half full person). after i dump every single last item out of my closet and clean the shelves, i force myself to survey the damage i have done to my summer body by hibernating and drinking vodka (just to keep warm) for 4 months. yes, it’s time to face The Winter Blubber for The Trying On Of The Summer Clothes. i look at all those cute little dresses and capris tucked neatly away in the dusty containers and can’t imagine those tiny things fit a mere 12 months ago. there is also the category of clothes called “I Can’t Believe I Wore That Last Year” in which i gasp in horror at some seriously hideous pieces of clothing that i thought were So Cool At The Time. soon, disgust ensues, and i just start getting rid of everything without prejudice. this, of course, has the hidden benefit of making more room in my closet for new stuff which means it’s time to go spring shopping (because lord knows i am completely seasonally unprepared since i really can’t deal with the summer clothes when they show up in nordstrom in the dead of winter). but worst of all is the knowledge that my Sworn Nemesis, Bikini Season, is not far behind, and, i, nor any other self respecting woman who has not honored her personal commitment to start working out in january to avoid the terror of this very situation, is not even looking at those swim suits until forced. we will just order new ones and shove the other ones under the bed til next year (yeah, i said order -i am not facing that fear of actually trying them on at the store. puh-leeze). The Official Wardrobe Change also encompasses two of my all time favorite wardrobing activities- the Switching of the Shoes and Cute Little Jackets Round Up.

like a squirrel hoarding nuts, i store up fabulous warm weather shoes all winter – and there is nothing like a fresh pedi to show ‘em all off. now, i personally get pedified all year round, but you know spring has truly arrived here when you show up to your favorite foot palace one day where there is nary a wait all winter and every pedi chair in the joint has a fat ass in it already in the process of obtaining perfectly manicured hooves. i can barely wait my turn because i am salivating to get back home and shed the protective footwear boxes to unsheath those new killer sandals, wedges, flip flops, & “going out shoes.” nothing makes a girl feel sexier than perfectly painted piggies and a pair of brand new open toed f-me pumps (are we not all suckers for a guy who tells us how gotdang fabulous our shoes are?). next are my Cute Little Jackets – they come out to play for a very small window of time: that nanosecond when it’s cool enough to need a light jacket but too warm for a real coat. i buy these darlings obsessively all fall & winter imagining all the adorable get-ups i will be seen in come spring and then only actually wear 10 per cent of them if i am lucky before the weather gets too warm (i am also lucky if i can even button them after the winter. because i bought them months earlier while saying, “it will def fit by spring since i will have lost this last 5 lbs by then.” okay, fine…10).  and those of us with children get to do all of this closetation for our kids too, but it is not nearly as fun as we learn that all those clothes we saved for Next Summer now fit nobody because the tots, unlike the grass, grew like crazy all winter. then we have to go out and spend a ton of money on new clothes for them anyway. totally not as cool as spending money on new spring shoes and purses – but hey, it’s still shopping. and shopping is always good.

and i clean up not only my home this time of year, but the loose ends in my life too – case in point: emancipating the bf. what seemed like a great comfort during the lazy hibernation of winter, suddenly seemed suffocating on the cusp of spring. it was time to shed that heavy winter coat and trade it in for the feeling of freedom that only the warm weather can bring (and truth finally be told, i just couldn’t be bothered to fake one more orgasm. it was becoming entirely too exhausting). it sure ain’t easy to clean out the cobwebs of your life, but it has to be done every so often. i once had a friend who called it “weeding her garden” (which i thought was a great analogy until i became one of those so called weeds). i too used to cull my address book (back when we had such things during the flinstonian era of my youth before pen & paper gave way to email & blackberries) and remove the entries of people to whom i no longer spoke. now i go through my cell phone, email, and facebook page to update (nice way of saying delete) my contacts- those people formerly known as friends (used to be you just stopped speaking to someone when you broke up and then screened their calls; now you “defriend” them on facebook). and i do it not to make a statement to the person. it’s just part of my spring cleaning. because along with the peace i find by cleaning off the months of dirt and grime from my floors and purging unused physical possessions from the junk drawers, i also find well being by permitting myself to let go of relationships that i no longer need to hold on to.

so, yes, i feel deliciously accomplished: my house & my psyche (and my colon) are totally clean and ready for spring and it’s myriad of possibilities.

got my shoes already picked out…

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4
Apr 10

The Frozen Kid

hey folks! it’s time for the first (of most likely many) gratuitous “my kids say the derndest thangs” post. i share not only because are my kids are totally hysterical without even trying, but writing this kind of post is just too cheap and easy to resist. so without further justification, i bring you some bits from the stand up act i enjoy in my domestic comedy club on a daily basis. the two drink minimum is optional but i comply (strictly as a courtesy to the house).

we were watching a full house episode in which michelle had been given a “time out:”

9 yr old: “who makes a kid sit in a chair facing the wall?”

me: “well, it’s an old show, you know from the 80’s.”

9 yr old: “oh. the 80’s. well, they didn’t have accurate ways of disciplining kids back then.”

6 yr old: “mommy what color do you dye your hair?”

me: ” i don’t dye my hair yet. i don’t get grays. i guess i’m not that old, huh?”

6 yr old:  “that doesn’t mean you’re not old. ”

6 yr old giggling: “my teacher told us today we had to use a number two pencil for the tests. a NUMBER TWO!”

me: “umm. well, there really is such a thing.”

6 yr old: “come on, mommy. a number two pencil? that’s just silly”

9 yr old helping 6 yr old with homework: “i am a teacher in training. a T. I. T.”

me: “yah, that’s great, but let’s call it something else.”

9 yr old: “why? did i say a bad word?”

me: “yes. but it’s ok, you didn’t know.”

9 yr old: “well, that is why i need to know all the bad words, mom: so i don’t use them by accident. ”

6yr old: ” well, i know the H.A. word.”

me: “the H. A. word? i am not sure what you mean by that.”

6 yr old: “daddy says it all the time when he’s driving.”

me: “really? what is it?”

6 yr whispering in my ear, “Head Ass.”

me: “what???”

6 yr old still whispering, “daddy always says to the other drivers, ‘get your Head out of your Ass.’ Head Ass.”

me: “ohhh. the H. A. word.”

we eat out a lot and i find it so frustrating to constantly waste money on ordering food the kids insist they want & promise to eat but end up not doing so time after time. this particular night my oldest daughter demanded an order of eda mame which usually go uneaten. we argued back & forth resulting in my agreement to place the order with this caveat: “if you don’t eat them, then you will have to pay me back for them.” a completely ridiculous comment made out of frustration that caused my sister to snicker behind her menu. so the eda mames arrive & my daughter starts shoveling them in like it’s her last meal, and i say “why are you eating like that?”  to which she replied,” if i don’t finish these you are going to charge me for them!”

9 yr old: “i have an on/off relationship with crusts.”

me to 9 yr old during power outtage: “stop freaking out your sister.” 9 year old, “i’m not. i just froked myself out.”

my kids came home from their respective valentine’s day parties at school this year, with all kinds of crap about which dentists have nightmares. they sat down to a candy buffet while i was in the other room. when i returned, i came back to see they were cutting fun dip with pixie stix sugar. i guess fun dip has a higher street value?  this has to be how addiction starts…

little sister to big sister: “i am going to kick your butt at this game” and then proceeds to literally kick her in the butt. big sister to little sister: “that’s a saying, it doesn’t mean you actually do it!”

9 year old: “mom do, i have to go to [6yr old sister's] gymnastics with you? i hate sitting there for an hour smelling feet.”

my mother was telling me about a class she took at a local community college about carmen, the opera. suddenly, my 6 yr old pipes up and says authoritatively, “grandma , it is not opera, it’s Oprah!”

my 9 year old likes to order a turkey sandwich at our local deli. she also likes to order for herself. so, she asked the waitress for german dressing on the side. the waitress looked at me quizzically, i looked back at her just as confused, and then at the same moment we both realized: she wanted russian dressing.

9 yr old: “why does she [6 yr old sister]  get so excited when my friends come over?”

me: “dunno. it’s like how dogs get excited when they see you”

9 yr old: “well, at least, she doesn’t pee on the floor.”

6 yr old upon losing her second bottom tooth: “but i can’t whistle.” me: “could you whistle before your tooth fell out?” 6 yr old: “no.”

at my mom’s house for dinner one night: she fed the girls and then made one of my childhood staples, “franks and beans,” for me. upon learning such, both girls replied in horror: “no mommy! major gas tonight. it’s  gonna smell in our room.” a few hours later, my stomach was rumbling & an earthquake was about to roar through my intestines. so, i told to my oldest that she was right about the dinner entree- it probably wasn’t such a good idea,  and she said, ” mommy, it’s franks or beans. not both.”

9 yr old: “can i take my ice cream to the tv room?”

me: “no. sit with us and eat so we can all be together.”

grandmother: “tell us your thoughts. are you thinking about anything?”

9 yr old: “yes. i’m thinking that i really want to watch tv.”

grandmother: “do you want me to defrost something for breakfast or make some fresh pancakes?”

9 yr old: “why would i have frozen when i can have fresh? mommy defrosts everything. i am The Frozen Kid.”

9 yr old: “i really want a kitten. so i can raise it until it gets big.”

6 yr old: “don’t you think that will be a lot of work?”

9 yr old: “yes, but it will be worth it for that bundle of joy.”

5 minutes into a rousing game of “who can be quiet the longest” while in the car late-ish one night, 9 year old asks, “can we talk now? not talking makes me nauseous.”

for some reason known only to my dvr, it taped all of one week’s simpsons episodes in spanish. upon hearing me remark how odd that was, 9 year old says, “maybe it’s hispanic week.”

one night i was having a hard time getting the 6yr old to bed. helpful 9 yr old starts making bribes to her sister that i don’t want to have to make good on at a later time.  i say to well-meaning older daughter, “just stop.” “stop what?” “stop having ideas.” my sister just looked at me with a smirk and instantly realizing how ridiculous my statement was, i  said to her, “you know people are always writing funny things kids say, but really they should be writing about stupid things parents say to their kids.”

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26
Nov 09

gggb gives thanks

hand-turkey

i could blather on about how grateful i am for my delicious children, supportive family, beloved friends, all my abundance, & yada yada which, of course, goes without saying; but here are a few more things a girl like me is thankful for this thanksgiving…

my young well hung boyfriend.

that my young well hung boyfriend doesn’t give a shit about the 5 extra pounds of muffin top that now pours over my jeans since we started dating.

that after losing my father, i still have a wonderful man in my life (see above) that supports me, gets me totally, thinks i am fabulous just the way i am & loves me unconditionally.

smart food white cheddar popcorn & carbohydrates in general.

the wonderland that is sephora.

joss stone, & alana davis.

chelsea handler & all talented, strong, & funny women, famous or not, who aren’t afraid  to speak their minds.

my lawyer.

my lawyer’s staff.

not having to spend anymore time with the in-laws or pretending to like any of them ever again.

flavored vodka.

texting.

pendente lite.

butt wipes.

the freedom from giving a shit about what The Asshat (a.k.a. ex husband to be)  thinks about anything i do. actually, what he thinks about anything at all.

the wonderful sense of humor my father had and how he taught me to see the humor in everything, every day.

not having to sleep next to a Snoring Fat Ape ever again.

never being seen in a yellow car/suv again.

not pretending to care about anything that has to do with the “the market or “work.”

not having to wash stained underwear, rush (a.k.a. The Worst Band Ever) t-shirts, or filthy socks.

not having to care about how foul the bathroom i don’t use anymore now is.

finally feeling completely free to be myself.

having the fortitude to show some people that payback is a bitch & consequences for bad behavior are real.

ebay, facebook, google mail, zappo’s, nordstrom, & online shopping.

talk soup, the dish, family guy, the simpsons, & the like for making me laugh daily.

my DVR.

ipods & limewire.

paige petite jeans.

flat irons.

high heeled clogs & wedges.

my mom’s new kitty, dexter.

the incredible strength my mother possesses & passed on to me .

the bright future that i know lies ahead of me.

my dear friend mary petto who invited my mother and i to join her family dysfunction this year. she ended up putting out her back & spent it flat on her couch while the rest of us ate ourselves into a tryptophan induced coma in her dining room.

having happy memories of my father being with us last year on this very day.

IMG_0209

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8
Nov 09

roses are red part 2: for all occasions…

dried_rose_petals

okay, so the “happy divorce ™” card line (perhaps future e-card line?) was a hit. like bartles & jaymes, i thank you for your support. so, one of my best girls suggested the line could be expanded to include all kinds of Fuck You Occasions. why stop with Lunatic ex-husbands? i now realize the possibilities are endless and i am again inspired (still not inspired to finish a real post, but inspired nonetheless)…

roses are red, as a friend you’re the best, but you are a fucking bitch, when you pms.

rose are red, chocolate is divine, you were a sloppy drunk last night, we think it’s detox time.

rose are red, diamonds i adore, you slept with my boyfriend/husband, you’re a dirty fucking whore.

roses are red, there’s a cake called bundt, i have defriended you, because you’re such a goddamn cunt.

rose are red, love is usually fleeting, you’re fired you moron, because you missed the staff meeting.

roses are red, some peppers are mild, you better tell your wife soon, that i am pregnant with your child.

rose are red, your chic restaurant is hip, but the service was so bad, i am leaving no tip.

roses are red, the 80’s were rad,  but its 2009 now, and that haircut is just plain bad.

rose are red, facebookers like to chat, your husband/boyfriend propositioned me online, because he is a fucking rat.

roses are red, hay goes in bales, stop pressing send, and forwarding me those asinine emails.

roses are red, some eggs are runny, it’s time you knew, your dumb-ass jokes never were funny.

roses are red, lawnmowers cut grass, have you turned around lately, and seen the size of your ass?

roses are red, bozo was a clown, you are looking just like him, put the makeup brush down.

roses are red, the public is beggin’, no more fat thighs, in those scary tight leggins’

rose are red, some grapes are red, i may go to hell, but i sincerely hope you drop dead.

roses are red, swines have the flu, you’re the worst fucking boss, and i hate you.

roses are red, peaches have a pit, this job fucking sucks, and now i shall quit.

roses are red, kittens are cute, get your ass to the salon, you have 2 inches of roots.

roses are red, where is waldo, i am pleased to tell you, you’re getting quite baldo.

roses are red, i am feeling quite smug, to be the one to tell you, we all know it’s a bad rug.

roses are red, i have a feeling, you haven’t realized how much, your hairline’s receding.

roses are red, edward is a vamp, the whole town knows, your daughter is a little tramp.

rose are red, your bratty kid is a punk, the only way i can be with your family, is to get completely drunk.

roses are red, florida is warm, i will kill your dog, if he doesn’t stop crapping on my lawn.

roses are red, some people read books, i am not coming to for dinner anymore, because you’re a horrible cook.

roses are red, still water runs deep, no more nice presents for you, because you’re so fucking cheap.

roses are red, ducks like to quack, don’t ever call me again, since you really suck in the sack.

roses are red, pavement is black, i am finally breaking up with you, so hit the road jack.

roses are red, watch out for broken glass, it’s time for you to go, don’t let the door hit you in the ass.

roses are red, pens have ink, go take a shower, because you fucking stink.

rose are red, peanut butter loves jelly, go brush your teeth, cause your breath is so damn smelly.

roses are red, the suns sets at night, go clean your messy room child, before i set it alight.

roses are red, carnations are pink, i will skin you alive, if you leave your dishes in the sink.

roses are red, monty python eats spam, that slut over there, slept with your man.

roses are red, green is the clover, i am tired of you bitch, our friendship is over.

roses are red, dogs have fleas, i never want to see you again, lose my number please.

roses are red, roaches are vile, i stopped listening to you whine, for quite a long while.

roses are red, leaves grow on trees, i ain’t gonna forget, about that money you owe me.

roses are red, bunnies like to hop, pull your pants up, and cover that huge muffin top!

roses are red, baseball players spit, so sorry to hear, you just can’t take a shit.

roses are red, moles like to dig, your armpits are soaked, because you sweat like a pig.

roses are red, i used to have slinkies, your fat rolls are growing, put down the twinkies!

roses are red, vodka is taxed, you look like a dude, time to get your lip waxed.

roses are red, i must beg your pardon, but if you ever want to get head,  you must tend your garden.

roses are red, babies eat mush, you can’t wear a bikini, unless you shave your giant bush.

roses are red, teenagers get zits, put on a bra, we don’t need to see your sagging tits.

roses are red, birds fly south, you nauseate me so, i just puked in my mouth.

roses are red, fruits drinks are blended, i could do this forever, but i think i must end it…

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4
Aug 09

she told 2 friends & then they told 2 friends…

it always come down to pledge week doesn’t it? you’re enjoying mutual of omaha on pbs, a lion is massacring a gazelle when they cut in & ask you to give them money for an ugly tote bag. well, i too must interrupt your regularly scheduled blog-gram for this important message. i ain’t having a telethon to ask you for money, but i am asking for your e-support. while i am so grateful to you, my facebook following, because you guys have given me major support & fabulous feedback (you all must have known i don’t handle constructive criticism very constructively), and i am beyond honored to entertain you, i need to branch out & see other followers too. nothing personal dahlings, it’s all business. so all i ask is that you sign up to follow me on the rss feed. you know, subscribe. why you ask? well, 4 reasons:

1. word of mouth will help my fan base grow: perhaps you send your pals the link to sign up & they send it to their friends & so on & so on. like that cheesy fabrege organics commercial from 1976. remember it? at the very least we will all have great hair…
2. if i am ever going to take this thing hollywood (or anywhere outside of my sad little pre-divorce dorm room), i am going to need a respectable following beyond my dear college pals & my aunt shel.
3. my ego is fragile & needs you to.
4. it’s anonymous and only a minor inconvenience like flossing.

so for less than it costs to feed a child in zimbabwe, or buy a cup of fair trade coffee, you can support a fledgling blogger & continue to enjoy outstanding blog-gramming like: my rack & i, the adventures of CT, i was married to a mental patient, & more. plus, you can say you were there when it all began. because, gosh darnnit, people like me & single with vodka: good girl gone bad is going places baby! come along for the ride. i haven’t even scratched my bloggering surface yet…

so check out those cute lil’ links across from here that say “rss feed,” and “register” & please just do whatever annoying things they ask of you & eventually i will have a real fabulous website that won’t be such a pita which, is in the beginning phases of construction. every time you visit, something will probably have changed until i feel like it’s just right. my blog and i are moving on to bigger & better, just like in my life…

thanking you very much in advance!

xoxo,
your sueness

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