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PBS

screw blondes – bad girls have more fun.

good girl, bad girl – it’s really all a matter of perspective.

so i have replaced wine with chocolate, but i think i have to go to pills next – no calories.

writing inspiration always strikes when i am in bed – after all, it is where i do my best work…

as far as dating goes, i think i may be a seller in a buyer’s market…

so far there is no major difference between having the cat around the house and having a husband: he sheds, eats anything i give him, doesn’t clean up after himself, licks me only occasionally, marks his territory by peeing where he’s not supposed to, doesn’t come when i call, hides to avoid activities he doesn’t want to do, and ignores me until he wants something. nice thing is, i can neuter this guy and give him away if i get tired of him.

i enjoy a romp with my battery powered friend before i go to sleep. but after being surprised i took a 4 hour nap the other day, a friend suggested that i not set my vibrator to stun…

you know, honestly, i didn’t want to get a cat at all, but it has given me a lot of new material – i have tapped into a whole new subject area since i can make endless double entendre pussy references now.

i have a friend who is a martha stewart of sorts and i just feel so inadequate around her – she really inspires me to want to do & be so much more…i have decided to stop hanging around her.

i was all set to go out to today and run a bunch of errands but then i realized i had so many unfinished things to take care of around the house – a bag of potato chips, a box of chocolate, and a bottle of wine.

i thought The Headache Excuse was completely bogus until i had one the other night - i wouldn’t even do myself.

just how long have you let yourself go when you have to put “shower” on your To Do list?

my dating life is a train wreck and i am the unlicensed engineer.

The Biggest Loser is not only a reality show, but who contacts me online.

i am ready to dive back into the dating pool, but since there is no lifeguard, i am going to wear my floaties this time.

for some men condoms aren’t an option, you need a full wet suit.

thank goodness we educate new mothers about the possibility of post-partum depression after birth – but shouldn’t we do the same for new wives about post honeymoon depression after the wedding?

note to unworthy men: sometimes we fuck you because we have nothing else to do & we are just bored.

my resolve to get things done tomorrow is always so much stronger today.

i was at my friend dana’s house eating gas inducing hibachi leftovers and i asked her if she minded if i farted. she said, “no, but i just don’t want it to smell.”

i was immensely flattered to find out several of my friends must delete my texts.

dating has totally made me get why strippers hate men.

i was contacted by a hot greek man online. i began to respond, but remembered i had to do the proper background check first and google greek penis size first.

i think the problem with the dating pool might be that it’s only stocked with flounders & guppies and i’m a shark.

i would stop drinking, but nothing fun ever happens when i’m sober.

there are no alcohol bottles in my house – they are all outside in the recycle bin.

go ahead – jump in feet first into the sea of online dating – but wear a life vest.

i wish i could dvr my life – fast forward to the end of the work day, delete things i don’t like, watch the good parts of my day over & over again, generally avoid anything distasteful, and most importantly, set the frequency for sex.

i actually did give up drinking for awhile and i realized something very important: sobriety is greatly overrated.

my pal, jenna, & i poop at the same time every day (yes, sadly we discuss this) – some women synch their periods, we synch our bowels.

whatever i catch in the dating pool, must be thrown back – i am beginning to think it’s the bait…

being a lil’ bit crazy, but basically functional is fine, but being a batshit nutjob and wandering about free in the world should require some sort of identification be worn at all times so the rest of us have fair warning.

lice is going around the school. i worried about catching it until i found out they prefer to take residence in clean hair.

i’d like to see a female wrestler called The Ex-Wife kicking ass – or better yet, a super hero: among her powers would be the ability to make any deadbeat ex-husband pay up immediately and then banish him to a tower of isolation for eternity.

my girls have a problem with PBS: Pre-Bitch Syndrome.

i want to keep letting my hair grow until it’s past my boobs. question is, with a bra on or off? this obviously determines the amount it still has to go.

i don’t do name tags. chances are if i didn’t give a shit who anyone was before i knew their name, i’m not gonna start at a fucking corprorate cocktail hour. do adults who are capable of actual speech, remembering their own names, & controlled muscle movement really need to wear these things to break the proverbial ice? and, furthermore, it’s a good bet that i don’t want to be identified later…

conversation at work with cool boss:

boss: “do you think you will get married again?”

me: “no way!”

boss: “well, you are kind of negative about men.”

me: “wow, thanks for pointing that out – that’s a major breakthough.”

recently the girls & i were invited to dinner at their friend’s house. while helping clean up, i opened the fridge to put the leftovers away and the inside just looked so odd to me. i couldn’t put my finger on why until i realized it was full.

while totally warranted, bitter is such an ugly word used to describe me – i prefer tangy.

i have tried to be less lazy, but i’m just not that motivated do anything about it.

i have tried to be less high maintenance, but i just have so many needs to be met.

my cousin was hit on by a hot married woman who explained that her husband is a quadripalegic and they have “an arrangement.” cuz wasn’t sure he wanted to cross over to the dark side (something about morals), but, i, of course, advised him to go for it. he said, “ok, but if she pulls into the driveway in a wheel chair equipped van, that’s where i draw the line.”

it has recently occurred to me, i may be one of “those people.”

popping zits & bubble wrap: universally satisfying.

text conversation with a suspected jackass i had only been texting with for a few days, that even i found offensive:

jackass: “i am in manalapan, do you want to get spanked?”

me: “you have to be kidding me.”

jackass: “nope”

me: “i wonder if your dick is as big as your balls.”

jackass: never heard from again.

me:

hey if you dig this blog, dig it on facebook too!

Uncategorized — 3 Comments
26
Nov 09

gggb gives thanks

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.

Archive / ponderings of a mad woman / true but unecessary confessions — No Comments
29
Sep 09

i heart guinea pigs

more random & fascinating confessions most of which my mom shouldn’t read:

i am a major underachiever & huge procrastinator, but i did pretty well in school anyway. i am more of a street smarts, common sense kind of girl, but i always wonder what amazing things i would have accomplished had i truly applied myself. although, my english scores were very high, i was in basic skills math & retard science. i still struggled in those too. eventually i grew boobs and said fuck it.

i may have once slept with a mafia don. i am not investigating any further.

i stalked a boy in high school. okay, several. on foot. with binoculars.

uncle buck is my all time favorite movie. i named one of my daughters after one of the characters.

it’s not the posting of unearthed sex tapes or naked pictures (both of which i have never wittingly submitted to) on the web that concerns me. it’s if my gut looks fat or if you can see the cottage cheese on my ass that truly worries me.

i find the smell of beer on a man’s breath to be sexy. that is really warped.

i still have all of my sticker albums. the stickers are in MINT condition. most still in original packaging.

when i get mad i shop. take that visa! i shopped a lot during my crappy marriage. this did not help my crappy marriage at all, but i have a kickin’ wardrobe.

i obsessively use the notes app on my phone to remember song lyrics so i can google them later to get the title & download them for my ipod.

i started a female pant suit revolution at my first job fresh out of college in 1993. i have authority issues. they breathed a sigh of relief when i quit. i am not meant for corporate life.

when i was 21, i came home late from a date & i busted my dad smoking pot. we went into the house & he sat on the bed of my childhood room while i lectured him on the evils of its usage. for an hour.

i worked at the freehold raceway mall before it opened to set up the gap there. when it opened they hired all new people. working at the gap sucks. i still fold my jeans the way i was taught.

as a teenager & into college, i shoplifted from mostly any retail establishment for which i worked. i found it to be quite a thrill. i totally understand winona rider.

when i was a freshman in college, i briefly dated a high school senior. i went to his prom.

sometimes i wonder if the people on billboards look familiar to me because i actually know them or just from driving past them every day.

when i watch really old reruns & there are old people on the show, i say to myself, that person must be dead by now. conversely, i wonder how the child actors turned out.

in college i peed behind a dumpster. several times. i also passed out on the floor of the girl’s bathroom in my freshman dorm after puking my guts out. several times. i drank a lot in college. i was nicknamed “booter.”

i had a major obsession with garfield when i was kid. i drew him constantly, read every book, and set up a residence for him & his girlfriend in my room. i had about 30 or so stuffed garfields & pals. i also slept with one of my stuffed garfields (& a nightlight) until i got married. i still have them all, but i am trying to get rid of the husband.

after college, while looking for a real job, i was a bank teller. since, i suck at math, my till was short often. i got fired. i still make sure all of my money is facing the same way & in order of denomination in my wallet.

i was an ugly duckling: i was born with one eye that crossed in & wore bifocals from 18 mos to 16 yrs. my feet turned inward and i had to wear shoes on a metal brace until they faced out. i was never allowed to sit “indian style.” when i was 12, i was diagnosed with minor scoliosis. i cleaned up nice though.

i used to get spontaneous bloody noses from allergies as a kid without warning. this was a fun party trick and most endearing to the hostesses.

at the end of my senior year of high school, a bunch of my friends & i stole a street sign with my name on it by knocking it down with a baseball bat. we were unaware that this was a felony. i still have it displayed in my home.

i had a “valley girl” sleepover party for my 13th birthday. everybody had to dress like valley girls & talk that way. i was like, oh my gawd, a huge dork.

mere days after i got my license and brandy new honda civic, i smashed it into a car that was pulling out of a parking spot at woodbridge mall because i gunned the gas instead of the stomping on the brakes. my bff was in the car. after the information exchange with the bewildered driver, we still went shopping. i bought a pair of sneakers which i then returned a week later but i made my mom drive me. it was years before i ever drove back there. the woman said to my dad, “meester, i don know where she came from.” my crazy bff still drove all over the place with me.

the manner in which i lost my virginity would most certainly be considered date rape today. it was over 21 years ago & i still have not forgiven that guy. i most likely never will.

surgeries: age 12: 8 molars removed age 15: nose job, age 18: 4 impacted wisdom teeth removed, age 21: breast reduction, age 30 & 33: 2 c-sections. age 35: lumpectomy (benign, thank god) age 36: corrective eye surgery for the cross. i sincerely hope i am done.

i secretly love lite fm. i have an entire playlist on itunes. i know all the words to most of the songs. brandy & wildfire are in my top 10.

i LOVE guinea pigs. i had 2 as a kid before it was cool to own them. i had a sleepover with my childhood bff & let “miss piggy” run around in her sleeping bag. the pig left many “gifts.” her mom was not pleased. the modern day guinea pig cult following pleases me to no end. i got not 1, but 2 for my kids when the divorce started. $200 later i realized they are cute, but a pain in the ass to take care of when you live immigrants style in a tiny room with 2 other small people. my kids lost interest in the piggys & i gave them away on craig’s list after 2 months. i still feel guilty & hope they are living happy little guinea pig lives. now i just collect guinea pig books & leave it at that.

my best friend in high school and i spent hours after school cataloging every possible way we wanted to be kissed. we didn’t have boyfriends, but we once hooked up in a foursome situation, latter dubbed “switcheroo with ____ & sue.” i was thrilled until i figured out they just both wanted to hook up with her and i was a mercy killing. she was & still is way hot, no matter how many kids she pops out. you know who you are, bitch.

when i 20 years old and flying home from UF for the holidays one year, i sat next this weird artsy couple. i had the window seat and was essentially trapped. the lady grabbed my hand & said she did “readings” and proceeded to read my palm without my consent. she told me that when i was 40 i would have a major illness but i would recover. i have obsessed about it ever since. when i was 36 & had a lump removed from my breast, and i wondered if that was the illness of which she spoke, but i couldn’t be sure. i have 2 more years to worry about it. so now i fear, “what if i am going through this terrible divorce (14 mos so far) and then i die (god forbid) or the world ending prophecies are true and i never get to enjoy my freedom?” sigh. i am sure she has long since forgotten me & that plane ride, but here i am 17 years later still worrying. it made me realize that you can have a lasting impact on people, positive or negative, long after you have moved on. so be more responsible, you crazy palm readers.

last year, i went on a date with a 25 yr old. during dinner he got carded and i didn’t. i then strongly suspected he was not even 21. i went back to his dorm room anyway. i was curious.

i have had at least 13 different jobs i can remember & sucked at all of them. in no particular order: ceramics assistant at a camp (i spilled an entire bag of slip), babysitter (i got nail polish all over someone’s table), grocery store cashier (before the days of scanners), marty’s shoes store clerk, gap sales person, gap kids saleperson ( hello, may i help you find a size?), secretary (for a day – i left after lunch & never returned), bank teller ( we know how that went), payroll sales person at ADP ( i faked most of my sales numbers), interior design assistant (i helped her organize by throwing out most of her source materials), wallpaper/window treatment sales person inside a paint store (i prayed i got the measurements correct when it was time for pickup/installation), pharmaceutical sales rep ( i was terrified of the office staff & drs. & my main drug was a market dog), psychological study research assistant ( i fudged all of my “research” for some poor dude’s thesis), & interior designer of my own ‘firm” for 11 months (when i was 9 months preggers, i had to sue my very first clients for stopping a check. the entire endeavor actually cost us money. i gladly gave up that empire soon after the first baby came).

when i was 10, i became completely obsessed with puberty & getting my period. i had an entire “starter kit” full of the proper materials under my bed that was ready to go when the time came (it sat dormant for 5 years). i studied the book, what’s happening to me, way before anything was actually happening to me. i still own it. i was actually happy when i sprouted 2 armpit hairs one day. i did flips when i got a giant bush (subsequently, i became a fastidious groomer way ahead of my time when i discovered i could do neat tricks with a hair clipper). i was a strange child.

i have a problem with honesty. too much of it. this why i tell you people all of this crap that is better kept to myself. i most likely have a weird need for self-deprecating attention.