I Heart No One

I'm seriously lacking many things lately. My creative writing has gone down the tubes, laundry is, once again, over - flowing from the wash room and the bathroom counter top resembles a lab where they study toothpaste spills and blue mouthwash stains. I haven't cooked a "real" meal in weeks. I am so. freaking. tired. It's so cold. And it seems like everyone else is going about their lives, happily balancing work, kids, volunteering, homes and family whilst I walk through the front door tearing my clothes off in preparation for a nap.

Things at Chicken's school are hectic. The yearbook has to be turned in by the 14th and we haven't even finished collecting pictures. There is loads of money to be collected for field trips, Year End Celebrations, etc. I had to put in for 5 days off work in the month of February for school stuff. That's 1/3 of my total paid time off. How do people manage this with jobs? I guess they don't. Most of the other "School Moms" don't have jobs. This is their job. But I am finding this year to be fulfilling in every possible way. The children delight me, the teachers can depend on me and the parents aggravate me. Something feels very important about my time spent at this very special school.

Husband is taking a mortgage broker class taught by his brother (!). He told me he needed a fire extinguisher because his brain was fire. Bless his big, sweet heart. All of this to get us out of here. So I can chase my dreams while he has his nose in a book, in a computer, up a potential client's ass. I must buy him something very pretty and expensive. He loves a fabulous pair of shoes.

Here's to naps and Valentine's Day.

Teacher's Pet

Kindergarten Field Trip - $4
Loss of weekly wages volunteering at school - $64
Pink baby clothes for very pregnant teacher - $100
Arts and craft supplies for cookie and card decorating - $20
Dinner with families at school fundraiser - $37
Being told you're her best favorite parent - Priceless

Because It Has Many Purposes

I told this story to a friend on the phone last night and decided that I should write about it in order to get over it and move on.

But before I do, allow me to provide a little background information.

I have a very love/hate relationship with my boss. One on hand, she's very kind and generous. On the other hand, she's a mega bitch. We used to call her Hagatha the sea-witch. She's very funny yet judgmental and brings new meaning to the words pretentious and snob. She is also the classic rags to riches tale. Except now she's just like you and me. Regular middle class folk. I've worked with her for 4 years and we've seen each other through many economic, physical and emotional challenges. We're very loyal to each other but with the feeling that it could end any day now.


Onto my True PACSI! Hollywood (Florida that is) Story:

Boss: How much do you think a 40 pack of tissue paper goes for?Me: I don't know, like 99 cents.Boss: Well I just paid $3.99 for a 40 pack of tissue paper at Party City!Me: You got ripped off! I bought a 300 pack at Target for 47 cents the day after Christmas.Boss: (scoff) What do you need tissue paper for?Me: (indignant tone) Uhh, the same thing you use it for. Gift wrapping.Boss: (now with even snottier tone) They don't give you tissue paper with the box when you buy a gift?Me: Um, I shop at Target.Boss: (sigh) We really do come from different worlds, don't we?


Ahh yes. Different worlds. I'm going to have to remember that the next time she asks me where she can get a good deal on milk.

My Eyes Hurt

Here are some fashion statements I don't understand:

-Guys with tall hair wearing a rubber band/headband around their head to put emphasis on the very tall hair.
-Young (not balding, non-military) guys with shaved heads.
-The mandana. 'Nuff said.
-Mini skirts with leggings. I'd rather bring Madonna back from the 80's.
-Skinny jeans. They keep saying that EVERYONE can wear skinny jeans. Even no-so-skinny chicks. This is not true. Trust me.
-Halter tops, tube tops and other inappropriately-revealing clothing in plus sizes. Also, maternity thong underwear.
-BIG hair. You know what I'm talking about. The ones who have super curly hair, keep it really long and turn their heads upside down and cause further global warming with a bottle of hair spray. B I G !
-Boho anything. This includes the huge t-shirt passing off as a dress but excludes the boho bag.
-HUGE Jackie-O sunglasses. Especially on tiny women.
-The mermaid dress. This cannot be comfortable.
-Guys wearing t-shirts down to their knees and then still wearing their pants below their ass. What's the point?
-$150+ sneakers endorsed by basketball, football and baseball players. I get having one pair of really good sneakers. I do not get why kids want several pairs. Are your parents very rich? If so, I'm available for adoption.
-The velour jumpsuit. Shut up.
-The one piece bathing suit with the sides and/or front and back exposed. What exactly are you covering?
My #1 fashion pet peeve:
-Little girls dressed as grown women.

Flaming

I'm feeling a little sad today so this might not be a great post. It will, however, be all about me.

My birthday was a big bust (as usual). My birthdays are infamous for sucking. I'm beginning to think it's because I put too much emphasis on it. I get too excited and then when nothing big happens, I'm disappointed.
Note to self: do not make large hoopla about birthday next year. Perhaps big will happen then.
I am always saddened by the lack of celebration. This year was the worst. I didn't do a single thing. We went to Outback and I escaped the dreaded wait staff birthday song. There was the possibility of plans, of which I was really, really, really looking forward to. And then, in usual fashion, they fell through. Ok, not so much as fell through as people said they weren't going and then went anyway! What? Whatever.

Y'all know how much I love to shop. In fact, it's in the top three things I do best (third is baking and the second is none of your business). But instead of shopping for lame candle sets and picture frames for teachers, I decided I would create elaborate food baskets. They're very cute! I made so much stuff and all from scratch. I learned that I do not make good marshmallows but that I make kick ass biscotti. I'm always thinking that I'd like to do that for a living; make baskets. All kind of baskets! Wine, cheese & fruit baskets, cookie baskets, smelly (lotions, candles, bath stuff) baskets. There are so many things I want to do. But you know, silly monkey job and very important family prevent me from chasing my crack pipe dreams. Just in case, I stuck little business cards on the bottom of the baskets that sort of advertised that for a price, I'd make more.

Oh! Here's irony for you. My Christmas shopping has been done for several weeks now. Partly to avoid the last minute rush and pandemonium which is Christmas shopping but mostly because I love to shop so much, I get it done very quickly. And I'm organized. However, my mom wants me to take her Christmas shopping tomorrow. At the mall. Ack! I don't want to. But I will. Because she is my mother and I love her. Plus, I'll get to pick out all my own Christmas presents.

I spent Saturday afternoon with my maternal grandparents. I love them. I love them as much as I love anything in the entire world. We ate Barbecue and shopped at the Salvation Army. I feel so lucky to have known them, I am a million times wiser and my life has turned out better because of Gramma and Silly Grandpa Bobby.

Now, I am tired. It's time to put the sadness to bed. Tomorrow, this post may not be here and I'm hoping the happiness will take over again. After all, I'll be playing Santy Clause at school tomorrow with Chicken's teachers.

Post Script: I'd like to again thank everyone who was kind enough to acknowledge my birthday.

Balls Of Steel

Allow me to preface my funny story by insisting that I really do love my husband. And by funny I mean funny like when your brother farted on your head and everyone laughed but you. But onto the story.

And in continuing my multi-part series on stupid men, I give you this:

We went to Orlando last weekend to see my sister and her family who were there on vacation from New Hampshire. We stopped by the Ghirardelli Chocolate Shoppe, my favorite chocolate joint. I needed to pick up some baking supplies and holiday gifts. While I'm there, Husband asks me to get him "something other than the Carmel filled chocolate bar since we always get that at home". So I get him the 60% cacao espresso bar. Because the Carmel filled is the best, I buy myself one and eat one row on the way home, leaving 5 rows for later.
I spent the following day at work thinking about my Carmel chocolate bar. I came home, cooked (and ate) dinner and could not wait to rip into that bitch.

:GASP:

The bitch was gone.
Thinking that perhaps I put the candy in another bag, I asked my husband. "Honey, where is my Ghirardelli Carmel chocolate bar?"

Then it hit the fan.

You see...he ate the fat girl's chocolate. The. Whole. Thing. Then he laughed and said "It wasn't even that good." and left the evidence for all to see.
How are you going to eat a fat girl's high end chocolate, leave the wrapper, insult the candy and not immediately get up off your ass and purchase me a new candy bar? I don't understand.
He is paying for this dearly. I don't know how yet but he will be punished.
By the way, his 60% cacao espresso bar goes untouched. It will be destroyed and so will he.

Edited to add: Husband wants me to tell you that he thinks it's ok that he ate my $4 chocolate bar because I ate his frozen White Castle burgers. But I ate 2 burgers and left him 2. Besides, White Castle v. Ghirardelli? There is no contest there.

Husband shall pay.

Random Statements

An ode to Kara's random facts, I'm going to bite her idea.
This may be long. Enjoy.


I'm terrified of heights, roller coasters and airplanes. I wish I had whiter teeth but can't stand the taste of whitening gunk. I listen to the radio. A lot. I hardly watch TV. My handwriting beauty depends on the pen I'm using. I wish pencils were more permanent, my handwriting is best with pencil. I keep most of my friends like they're family but don't think they do the same. I'm generous and kind. I love pink. ALL colors look great on me except "army" colors and stark white. I'm obsessive about my skin. I rarely wear make up but when I do, I feel 100 times better about myself. I believe in God and miracles. Many miracles have happened to me. I am afraid of ghosts. I wish I would go to church more often but do not feel guilty about it. I mostly think I'm a good parent. I cry. A lot. At least once a week. I worry about my mother every single day. I miss my dad and am daily saddened by his death 5 years later. I enjoy having house guests and parties. I love planning parties and events, especially last minute. I planned my wedding in 3 days yet it takes me 2 months to plan Chicken's birthday parties. I am by far, the most normal and functioning person in my entire family, all sides. I hold grudges for a really long time. Sometimes forever. I'm thoughtful. I love to bake. I'm good at making things. I enjoy my job less and less everyday. I used to want to be a lawyer. Now I'd like to be a teacher but won't go back to school. I wish I lived somewhere else. Like North Carolina. I have moved more than 20 times in my life. I still draw stick people but can color anyone under the table. I don't drink often but when I do, I drink too much. I lived in Vermont for over a year and hated it. I think my husband is so talented but I almost never tell him so. I'm very moody. The reason I'm such a control freak is because I'm petrified I'll turn into my mother. I want another baby but not a boy. Boys scare me. I can be overbearing but I truly mean well. Sometimes I pray for silly things and wonder if I'm wasting God's time. Proper grammar is way too important to me. It takes a lot for me to hate someone. I can be jealous. I'm always afraid to open myspace bulletins because of those stupid "if you don't repost, you'll die" ones. I'm superstitious. I wish I were less conservative in my actions. I am in awe of my child on a daily basis. I talk too much. I'm a strict parent. I bake the best damn chocolate chip cookies and oatmeal cookies this side of the Mississippi. I still have to say "MI SS ISS I PP I" to spell it properly. I'm messy. I'm a clean freak. I'm not as organized as I'd like to be. I love vacations. I don't like the beach because I'm afraid of the tiny clear fish that poke at your feet. I love to swim. Christmas is my favorite holiday because of all the wonderful things I love, like shopping, wrapping, baking and entertaining. I love Rachel Ray and think she's the modern girl's Martha Stewart. I'd pay all the money I have to spend 24 hours with Martha Stewart. I never use cook books. My favorite smell is newborn babies. My birthday is December 14th and I'm always disappointed by the amount of people who don't care or forget. I'm notorious for having horrible birthdays and New Years Eves. I love jewelry but almost never stray from my every day pieces. I love doing laundry. I hate folding and putting away clothes. I clip coupons every Sunday but never use them. I used to think my best physical attribute were my legs and ass. Now I think it's my rack and hair. I have a secret to taking good pictures that make me look thinner. No, I won't share it with you. I don't sing in the shower. I drive fast but have never received a speeding ticket. Husband is my best friend. I have very few close and actual friends but I know a lot of people. I can be pretentious. I love chocolate. I don't like pie. I don't eat desserts with fruit in them. I feel sorry for Britney Spears. I, like Rosie O'Donnell think I can save her. One of my childhood best friends killed herself via shotgun to the head. To this day, I think I could have saved her, too. I have two sisters, I have never lived with either of them. I hated being an only child and silence. I love flowers. Especially tulips. I want to learn to make soup from scratch. I don't have a gold tooth. I read all the time. Most of my time on the Internet is reading a large variety of things. My feelings are hurt easily. I'm naive. I learned to spell naive by spelling Evian backwards. Chicken weighed 8lbs, 2oz and was 3 weeks late. I was in labor for 24 1/2 hours without drugs. I am a champion. I'm not athletic but like to play different sports. I want to join a women's softball or volleyball league. I've never actually played either of those sports. I'm easily overwhelmed. My fantasy life is to be barefoot and pregnant with many children living on a multi-acre lot of land with a small farm house with a garden and craft room. I dance well but few people know. I do it all the time when no one is home. I hate to exercise, I never try fad diets. I once lost 30lbs by switching white bread to wheat and using Equal instead of sugar. I'm secretly attracted to men of color. I sometimes wonder if I had Chicken and married too young. I wouldn't take it back for anything. I'm too old for my age. I have horrible luck with women named Sarah and men named Ryan. My favorite season is summer. I wear shorts, tshirt and flip flops every single day except when it's below 60 degrees. Then I trade that in for jeans, sweatshirt and Nike Shocks.