Mean Bitch... At least I think she is...

School starts next month and I can't freakin' wait! My kids have driven me to the edge, and I'm thinking about jumping just to end it all. Of course my luck, there's a small ledge underneath that I would land on--hard enough to severely injure myself but not hard enough to end it all because that's just how my life is--and my daughter would be there. "Mom, can I tell you something? You shouldn't have jumped. Why did you do that? Weren't you scared? I bet your feet really hurt now. Do you have a headache? Can I go play outside?" Then my son would come up and spank me on the butt. Yep... that's my life.

So, yea, school starts next month. And I'm looking forward to getting the kids out the house and have them interact with others. But with the new school year comes other kids' parents. I can't wait for that elusive 2pm time when I roll into the school parking lot with 300 other parents and wait for the bell to ring so we can reluctantly retrieve our kids. Yes, I'm being sarcastic. My kids' school is weird, although maybe it's not that weird and every other school is like this but I've never seen it done this way:

I park in the parking lot with the 300 other parents and stroll to the front of the school. Then we all wait around for the bell to ring at which we all file inside to our childrens' classrooms to pick them up.

Now, correct me if I'm wrong but that's weird right? Don't the kids usually leave their classrooms and file out of the school to the waiting parent instead of the other way around? I think the school board wanted to play a cruel joke on all us parents--an experiment of sorts--to force us all to stand around like morons, staring blankly at each other and wait for the other parent who you look at every day at 2pm to say something first. Which they never do. Instead they glare at you with a disgusted look on their face judging you for wearing your pajama bottoms to pick your kid up. (Which I did only one time---one freakin' time and I've been judged as a slob ever since! Geez.)

I'll get to my point about the mean skanky bitches. But here's backstory. Two years ago the husband and I were having a rough time. After an evening of fighting, I had to get the hell out of the house, which I did but soon found there was nothing to do in the podunk town. Well, our podunk down did have a bar. I've never been the type to hang out at a bar by myself but I needed something to do. I found soon that the locals weren't bad people and actually very chatty. I met a 77 year old hippy who talked non-stop about the legalization of marajuana. (Did I spell that right? I sounded it out: MAR-A-JEW-AN-A). I met a 22 year old skater guy who was on probation and shouldn't be at the bar but in his words "Fuck it, what else is there to do in this damn town?" My thoughts exactly skater-boy. Except his hands were permanantly attached to his girlfriends ass, so I thought I was sure there was something else they could be doing and probably would be doing that something the instant they felt intoxicated enough to go do it. Sad, sad little kids.

Then I met a nice guy, my age (I assumed, but never asked). We chatted at the bar while he waited for his drink then asked me to play pool with him. Which I did. We had fun. Then his harem of girls came up and bitched at him for ignoring them and that they were leaving with or without him. He was nice, bid me farewell and left with those girls. But girls will be girls and every one of them gave me the nastiest dirtiest looks. I said, "He's leaving with you, why you looking at me like that?" Of course I might have said when they were out of earshot. But in my mind I got into their faces and said it. Yea, I did. I'm that hardcore.

Summer came to an end and my little guy was starting preschool. I proudly took him to his first day and joyfully left him in his classroom. Of course as I was leaving the school, who should roll up in their pimped out SUV but one of those girls from the bar that night. I recognized her immediately because she had the same nasty look on her face and the same black roots peaking out under the bleached white hair. That's something you don't forget. She looked me up and down, rolled her eyes and took her son into the school. From that day on, the whole school year I got nothing but dirty looks from her and her friends. Not once did she say anything to me. Of course I didn't say anything to her either. I mean, what would I say? "Hey there, bitch. Got a problem?" That's what I wanted to say. Instead I would smile sweetly at her whenever our paths crossed.

The next year, it happened again. There she was, black roots and ugly looks. And if she happened to show up with any of her friends, her friends would join in with the dirty looks. Lucky me! Only this year she decided to take a different route against me. She started flirting with my husband. First, he said something. "One of the moms flirted with me." My curiousity went up. "Oh? Which one?" "She's kind of short, a little pudgy and had white hair with black roots." Soon after that, husband thought it was a game. "I don't know why you don't like her. She's really nice."

I got this mad. Yes, this mad...

So, if she wanted to be that way, fine. FINE! She can. And the totally crappy part of it all, I didn't only see her at the preschool, I saw her at the elementary school too. Because as fate would have it, we have kids the same age. I'm going to be dealing with this girl for my whole children's school life.

To validate things, my neighbor whom is usually with me when we pick up our daughters at the elementary school even noticed her dirty looks. She asked me about it one day I gave her the whole story you just read. "Maybe she's just jealous of you." My neighbor said.

That got me thinking... Not to be totally conceded about it but isn't that usually why most girls bully other girls--because they are jealous? My kids are cuter then hers. She seems to think my husband is cute. My hair is all one color. And her man wanted to play a game of pool with me 2 years ago. Of course she's jealous!

Of course with it being summer I hadn't thought about this mean girl for a while. Out of sight and thankfully out of mind. Then I see her at Safeway the other night. She was with her mom (whom my neighbor and I have named Hip-Hop Grannie because she chooses to wear velour sweat suits with the word "Juicy" across her saggy ass) and they were arguing. She--black roots girl--did not sound happy. She actually sounded really sad. And I felt bad for her. Then last night she was in my dream. We talked out everything between us--and about Adam Levine because it was my dream afterall--and we actually became friends.

So I got thinking. Maybe she isn't a mean skanky bitch. Maybe she's actually a nice girl. Maybe, just maybe, we have a few things in common and if we just ended with the ugly dirty looks, maybe break a smile once in a while we could become friends. Because even though I've judged her on her looks, her clothes and her cars, all of it isn't that bad. I actually like her car--it's a Tahoe. I have an Expedition. We aren't that different. She has worn a few things that I've had to admit were cute, and the girl has a thing for earrings, I can't begrudge her that. Her kids are fairly well behaved (as well as a 4, 5 & 7 yr old can be) which means she can't be that bad of a person.

Maybe I'll take the first step and actually give her a genuine smile on the first day of school. What's the worse that could happen? She could give me a dirty look? Hmph.

My iPod, A dedication to the wonders it holds

I have two iPods and I love them both equally in two completely different ways. I have a green Shuffle, his name is Kermie. I have a red Nano, her name is... Nano. I'm really creative on names, huh? (You should hear my kids' names, they are really original!)

Meet my iPods Kermie and Nano.

Kermie and Nano are the only two things in this house of mine that is 100% foolproof on making me happy. If I spend time with either of them the rest of my troubles disappear. *sigh* I love them.

I went to the movies last night and saw "Crazy Stupid Love".  So, so good! Must see. The writing, the cast, the feel of the whole movie was just perfect. As I left my house to go to the movies I realized that I have an hour drive ahead of me with just me and my iPod. (Yes, I go to the movies an hour away. Don't judge. I love it. It's guarenteed two hours of just me time that I wouldn't give up for anything). In that long drive there and home I realized, not only do I love my iPod, I love the music I've put on it. It's an random mix of everything: Dr. Dre, Garth Brooks, Guns N Roses, and of course lots of Maroon 5.

Remember back in jr. high when you'd listen to the radio and then call in to dedicate a song to the object of your affections? And then you'd wait for hours just to hear that dedication only to be disappointed because now it's 1am in the morning and you're song was never played so said object of affection will never know how you feel.

Well, that all ends today for me because my dedications are going to be heard. And because I spent two hours in the car listening to my random mix of music, I had time to listen, sing and think about who I would dedicate these songs too.

Said in DJ voice: Ladies and Gents, we have a young lady who wants to send out her love to everyone. First up we have...

(I've added the links to the songs in case you want to sing a long... I know you do!)

Run the World by Beyonce  This is for my daughter. Because she needs to know, us girls really do run the world. It's become a fun game we play, I say, "Hey Sis, who runs the world?" And she yells "Girls!" I will say, I'm glad she doesn't understand most the lyrics but I always stress to her these two verses when we hear the song: "How we're smart enough to make these millions; Strong enough to bear the children; Then get back to business" and "My persuasion can build a nation; Endless power; With our love we can devour; You'll do anything for me"   Oh yea, baby. Sing it!! 

Wrapped Up in You by Garth Brooks (love this video by the way).  This is for my son. First off, I'm not playing favorites with this song. I have a whole book of songs I would sing specifically to my daughter. But this song absolutely makes me think of my son. I am so wrapped up in him, he makes me smile like no other person can. Each verse rings true on my feelings for him but this sums it up: Every now and then; When the world; That were living in is crazy; You gladly hold me and carry me through; No one in the world's ever done; What you did for me; And I'd be sad and lonely; If there were no you." I love my baby boy and I can't imagine my world without him. *tear*

Best of My Love by the Eagles This is all for my husband. I can't even begin to break this song down as to why it's for him. The whole song... every word...   I don't even know what else to say.

Someone Like You by Adele *deep breath* This song breaks my heart. Puts me in a place that sometimes I just have to go there. (see here).  I honestly could list several Adele songs because I love all of them. I think she is a musical genius. And she's in concert here next week... it's sold out... I can't go. *pout*

Maroon 5... can't list just one song. I don't have dedications for these songs, they are just... it's just... he's just... Ok... ok... Infatuation - this is serious baby making music. Or maybe it is just for me. Unf... lots of unf (and the video is chalked full of hot pics of my man).  Shiver - I love this song live more then anything. I have the live version on my iPod because just the image of his hands on the guitar really melts my butter.  And of course my all time favorite song of theirs, Sunday Morning.  *sigh*  I guess this is all dedicated to my man Adam. Oh how I love thee...

And last on this list is not dedications really either. It's the songs that I roll the windows down and blast, sing at the top of my lungs unashamed because these songs deserve it. Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar, In These Arms by Bon Jovi, What It Takes by Aerosmith, and of course, every iPod should have this on it, I'm On A Boat by Lonely Island (explicit version, of course!)

In DJ's voice: And that concludes the dedications for today. I hope you are all filled with love and remember, love--and music--is what makes this world go round. Have a good night kiddies!

Random Thoughts Monday

Ok, so it's Tuesday. But everyday is Monday to me....  *clears throat*


The word of the week in this house is respect. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Find out what it means to me... yes, please. Let me say that again... Find out what it means TO ME.
Bitter, party of one.

**********

MTV is now 30 years old. Thirty years old!!!  I remember when it first came on television. I was 7. (Look at that, she can do math!)  It was such a big deal to sneak into the living room and turn it on when my parents weren't paying attention. Because rock music was of the devil...  Ok, not really. My parents could care less. But my brother and I used to think we were doing something bad watching it. Nowadays, you are doing something bad watching it... really... where is the music? The best show on there right now (in my opinion only, of course) is "Silent Library".  But remember the good old days? No? Me either. Until my husband showed me this...

My psyche split in two... I wanted to sing the song and dance around but I couldn't get up from the computer because my body was convulsing with laughter. Ah, the good ol' days.
*Oh, hey... you dropped this song. It fell out of your head. Let me put it back in so you can go crazy for another 2 years!*

**********

You know what is from the devil? World of Warcraft. I know I said this before but I'm going to give a distinct reason why. World of Warcraft, or as I'm going to refer to is as WoW, is an MMORPG. I have no idea what MMO means, but I'm pretty sure RPG means role playing game. And because it's a role playing game, the world of Azeroth is chalked full of pimply faced teenagers and fat fingered loners who still live in their mom's basement who use this as an outlet for their asshole attitude and behavior. I can't stand those people who have to hide behind a stupid avatar... Don't take it out on me if you're online after your bedtime and your mom is threatening to unplug your computer.  It's little assholes like that that take away the fun I used to have playing the game. WoW is now reduced to a OPG (one-player game) that I use as an instant messenger with my best friend. I would give it all up but... I get to kill things. Moonfire that, bitches!

**********

That's as random as my thoughts have gotten me recently. Home life has been sucky and I'm trying to stay positive but it's not working. I've been writing a lot to escape. Remember I said before I wrote a whole novel? Well, I've written two actually. The first one is pretty much done. I've been pounding out the second one, editing again and again. The second one was written in so many pieces I've wanted to bring it all together into an actual story that I hope someday someone would want to read. But unfortunately my creative process is somewhat unique--meaning that I really don't want to discuss what I'm writing while I'm writing and I will fucking shiv you in the gut if you read over my shoulder. I'm a perfectionist with my writing so I really don't want anyone reading it until I feel it's perfect.

Um,what about this blog? It's far from perfect...

Did I tell you I'm not afraid to shiv you in the gut oh bloggy conscious??

Being an adult sucks

Remember when you were a kid, and things where all sunshine and lollipops? (Why did I just type that? Now I'm going to have that stupid song in my head!) Life was considerably less complicated and doing the things that you wanted to do was completely possible.

But then you grow up. First, you get a job. Suddenly you have to live by your work schedule, wake up and go to sleep according to the time-clock. But it's just a job, right? You're single, young and you are still able to do the things you want to do. Movie tonight? Sure! Just make it an early one, I have to work in the morning. "Hey, we're all going out on the boat this weekend, want to come?" Hell yes I do! And it's my day off! Woo-hoo!

Then you meet someone and get married. All the sudden you have another person to think about and consider when you want to do something. But hopefully you've married someone compatible and they want to do the same things you do. So you want to go out on the boat this weekend? That would be great, plus I have someone to smooch with, hold hands with, laugh with. But say you aren't as compatible. Say, you guys enjoy seperate things. It takes maturity and patience to learn to compromise. "I don't want to go on the boat this weekend. I want to go visit with my friends." But you do what your spouse wants to make him happy. It's ok to give up on what you want a few times. That's what being married is all about, right?

Then kids enter the picture. Suddenly, there are no boating weekends. There is no random visit with friends. Suddenly everything you wanted to do has gone completely out the window. Your sole purpose in life is to make these children happy. Made plans to visit your friend who also has kids? Great! But wait, your kid is sick and suddenly you're home ridden for the weekend. You want quiet time, laying in bed and reading the new John Grisham book? Nope, sorry! Your kids want and need attention and time outside.

Now you are stuck in a cocoon of other people's needs and you stand in the middle like a hard peach pit, divots from the arguments you've had with your spouse about compromise; divots from your kids bouncing off you a million and one because they're hungry, or thirsty, or needed a referee from fighting. You're broken and battered from pleasing everyone elses needs and all that's left is this tiny pebble of a person you once were.

What happened? You used to shine! You used to smile and laugh all the time. Now your hair is sprouting strands of grey, there are bags under your eyes and you're carrying extra pounds on your body because you know, you just gave up trying.

Is this what it's like to be an adult? I spend all day, every day trying to make everyone around me happy. And in all that time I've bent over backwards for everyone else, no one around me wants to return the favor. Now it's:

Hey, want to go out on the boat today?
No.
Why?
I don't want to. Just don't feel like it.
Why?
Why do you have to ask why? I just don't want to.
But why? I don't understand.
What is there to understand? I. Don't. Want. To. There doesn't need to be a reason why. I just don't want to.
Then what do you want to do?
I wanted to get the cars washed and do some shopping.
Why do you want to do that? Just let's go out on the boat, we never do anything together anymore.
Let me say this slowly so you understand. I... don't... want... to... go... on... the... mother-fucking boat!
But why? I don't understand! Why are you getting so mad?

You see the vicious circle? It happens all the time. The simple want to do what I want to do doesn't matter because I've spent the last 10 years doing everything for everyone else. So when I suddenly put my foot down and say no, I'm not doing what you want, they don't understand.

Initiate break down one.

Really... is this what being an adult is like? Pleasing everyone around you all the time because you know, if you don't, chaos will ensue? Because, let me tell you... when I go along with everyone else there is no fighting. There is no yelling or crying or whining. There is no "why" questions. Everyone is happy... but me.

Initiate break down two.

I've gotten to the point where I'm bitter whenever I have to give in. I'm pissed off all the fucking time. No, seriously... I am. I can not tell you a day when I haven't been pissed at something. And the shittiest part of it is that I actually feel guilty if I push for something I want. A simple morning out to get a pedicure with a friend... I felt fucking guilty for that! And there was no reason to feel guilty. No one fought me on it. No one threw a fit when I left. The kids were fed and happy when I got home. The husband was tired--but content. But I still felt guilty for taking a few hours out of my day--week, month--for myself. I'm so used to setting my wants aside that when I actually decide to do something for myself the guilt monster kicks in. How fair is that?

This is not what I pictured being an adult to be like. I didn't think it would be all sunshine and lollipops but I also didn't it would suck this hard.


How about I end this with a little irony. And some evilness... because now you won't be able to get this song out of your head too!

The Ex Factor--What I Really Wanted To Say

So you read my previous post right?

Well, I have been haunted by past boyfriends. Just when I think I've buried all my past, I realize I didn't bury it, I just covered it up. And all it takes is one comment to bring it all back.

Joking around with Marcy, she made a comment about my ex, Mr. Perfect, being at my wedding. My stomach turned and my heart stopped. The thought of Mr. Perfect at my wedding almost brought me to my knees. Since then he's plagued my thoughts and dreams constantly. Also doesn't help that I've been watching the show "Falling Skies" and I've always thought Noah Wyle looked a lot like Mr. Perfect. (Imagine the fun we had role playing when Mr. Wyle was Dr. Carter on ER...)



Looks so much like Mr. Perfect here... makes my heart beat through my chest.

 Anyway, Mr. Perfect has taken residence in my brain again. Why? I don't understand... why him? I want to scream and cry and yell until he is gone from my psyche. I really don't want him there anymore. He hurt me. He left me. He used me. I never got closure. I never actually said goodbye to him. I left California and didn't tell him. I had to get away from him and leaving without saying anything was the only option I saw. Little did I know it was going to wreak havoc on my emotional being for the next eleven years. I wish I had the balls to tell him goodbye before I got to the point of me running away late in the night. Then maybe I wouldn't be here, questioning why he still consumes me.

Mr. Baseball doesn't consume me and anger me like Mr. Perfect. All I think about it how much I love(d) Mr. Baseball. It's nothing but good feelings.

Mr. Viking? I had to have closure there because I still see him often enough that if I didn't, I'd be a crazy mess. And believe it or not, I actually friended the succubus on Facebook. Don't ask me why... I still despise her but play nice to her face. It's still a dagger to the heart whenever I hear or see news of theirs. She's pregnant. Mr. Viking has bred with the succubus. I wonder what that baby will look like?

'Nuff said.



So why does Mr. Perfect have such a strong hold on me? I think what it is, is that I look at my life now and wonder what it would be like with him. If Mr. Perfect and I were to have kids, would they be like my two little monsters now? Would I be this insecure woman who worries whether I'm a good wife and mother all the time? When I was with Mr. Perfect, I was pretty darn perfect myself. I was in shape, I had a good job, I had energy and drive to do anything and everything. Is that what my life would be like? Mr. and Mrs. Perfect with our perfect kids, living our perfect life, in our perfect house. Is that what I really want?

The answer is no. Hell no. I was "perfect" with Mr. Perfect because I knew he would accept nothing less. My insecurites and fears and doubts were irrelevant. I couldn't express any of those without him freaking out. I was hiding my true self from him, and in turn, from myself.  Do I want those "perfect" children? No. Hell no. I don't think those "perfect" children would have as much fun as my little devils are. I'm raising kids to think on their own, feel things, experience things and I don't think they'd be able to do if they had to be "perfect" all the time too. And I sure as hell could not keep a perfect house. That would be exhausting.

But, I do miss some parts of him. I miss his strength. I miss that even though he was Mr. Perfect, there was a little bit of a nerd under the skin. I miss how my heart would flip flop when I would open my door to see him on my door step. I miss his strong hand resting on my knee whenever we'd go anywhere. I miss those times--although extremely rare--when he's get vulnerable with me and look at me with love in his eyes and smile.

I wish my psyche would just be content with missing those parts instead of longing for them. Even though I am married to John and I love him and will probably never leave him... *sigh*  I feel horrible for longing for someone else. It weighs on me constantly when these feeling pop up again. Which is why I'm writing about them now, hoping by purging myself of these thoughts and feelings I can bury them again and not feel so horrid and lonely for absolutely no reason. I have enough shit to deal with every day then deal with my underlying longings.

What I need to do, what I always do to rid myself of these feelings is remind myself of the bad. Yes, I miss Mr. Perfect's strength. But he was also cold as stone sometime. Unfeeling, unemotional stone. I hated that sometimes. Those vulnerable moments were too far and way too few. He never wanted to commit 100% to me. What the hell was that all about? He kept me on the line for as long as possible, using me and toying with my emotions for so long. Do I want that now? Hell no!

I refuse to be this oozeling again.

 I maybe not be "perfect" but at least I like who I am now. So Mr. Perfect, you can kiss my perfectly imperfect ass.

The Ex Factor

WARNING: This is a lot of background. If you know me--or if you've been reading my posts--you know I always have to tell the backstory to make what I really wanted to tell you relevant. If you don't give a shit about backstory, skip this post. And if you do choose to read and find yourself in the middle of this wondering why you're wasting your time on this chick's bullshit past, remember, I warned you.

I hate using that phrase "The Ex Factor" but seriously, what else am I going to call a post about old boyfriends? "My Old Boyfriends that I obsess over"?  Nah, too revealing. "The Ghosts of Boyfriend's Past"... Um... no. Reminds me of that horrid Matthew McConaughey movie . I love him and I love Jennifer Garner, and it has the extremely under appreciated Breckin Meyer, but that movie was horrid.

*focus EJ... focus*

So yea... the title stays. Unless I change my mind later which I am probably going to do, on a whim, at 3am after I've spent hours trying to kill the zombies that have invaded my roof. (Yes, on the roof level. Butter chucking corn anyone??)

I have loved 4 men in my lifetime. The first was when I was 17. I fell in love with my neighbor who was the cutest, sweetest, funniest boy I had ever met. He was one year younger in age, but two years below me in school. So I was a senior when he was a sophomore. It's a trend... you'll see. Anyway, he played baseball. He played baseball very well. He pitched 95mph fast balls and hit home runs over the centerfield fence. We flirted with each other for over a year before any declaration of feelings were made. But once those feeling were declared, it was a love story for the masses. He would leave love letters on my windshield as he walked to school so I would find them before I left for work. He would watch out his window and call me the instant I got home from work to see how my day was. He'd hold my hand and give me the most amazing hugs. We would make out like the crazy teenagers we were.  That's how sweet and loving our young relationship was.




The All-American Mr. Baseball
(identity concealed because I'm a paranoid bitch)


We stayed together for a year and what an amazing year it was for me. We grew together, explored together and loved each other so much it was like a freakin' fairy tale. But unlike fairy tales, we didn't live happily ever after. I was only 19 for goodness sakes! We broke up when he began hanging out with the asshole jocks and was on the road to becoming one himself. So yea, I plucked that apple right as it started to ripen. His innocence was lost and he was no longer the sweet boy that I fell in love with.

That break up tore me apart. I loved him so completely that he consumed me for years, even long after I've moved on. I can safely say, 18 years later I still love him. Do we ever stop loving our first loves?

After I finally got over Mr. Baseball, I was introduced to a young man that intrigued me. I was 21 at the time and living my life as a 21 year old girl should... living on my own, working by day, hanging out and having fun with friends at night. I met Mr. Perfect on one of those fun nights. Mr. Perfect was only 18. Eighteen for God's sake! But he didn't look that young. He was... Mr. Perfect. Mr. Perfect and I flirted with each other intensely for 6 months... six very long months. And it wasn't the harmless teenage flirting I did with Mr. Baseball. This was full on "are we going to do it or not" flirting.There was so much sexual tension between us it was tangible to everyone around us. But Mr. Perfect refused to commit. I assumed there were real reasons why he didn't want to "go out" with me: He was really a pimp. He was married. He was an alien sent to earth to tempt me and draw me back to his UFO so the other aliens--not him--could breed with me. Because honestly, all I wanted to do was to breed--with him! Ugh. Anyway, my now 22 year old manipulative ass decided to teach him a lesson and started to hang out with a guy that I knew Mr. Perfect hated. I wanted to make Mr. Perfect jealous. And oh man, did it! My friends said it was mean, "So unlike you!" they said. Uh yea, whatever. It was me, I did it. And it worked. Mr. Perfect was mine after that. All mine. Mr. Perfect and I were together for 2 years. And he was well... perfect.




Mr. Perfect. *sigh*
(identity concealed again, still a paranoid bitch!)


Then, out of the blue, we broke up. But we really didn't break up. He was still at my house all the time. We were still "breeding" all the time. The commitment thing just got in the way again. Fucker. Then he left for college. And instead of moving on, my stupid ass followed him to that college. I failed miserably there. Mr. Perfect moved on and was someone else's Mr. Perfect.  I was a mess, reduced to big ol' blob of useless ooze wandering the college campus aimlessly.




Ooze: has no purpose in life but be ooze.


That big blob of useless ooze went on a downhill spiral and pretty much hit rock bottom. My brother swooped in, convinced me to move to his state, his city. And in this crumpled ooze state I was in I was hit over the head with the wit and humor and nerdy good looks of my brother's best friend. He was six feet and four inches of the perfect medicine for me. I immediately fell in love with him. He made me laugh. He restored my faith in men being a man. I knew Mr. Perfect has prepared me for this man. I was certain of it. I went through the pain of losing the man I thought I was going to spend my life with to fall in with the real man I was going to spend my life with. It was fate. And fate had brought me to Mr. Viking. (Viking as in his favorite team, not as in his size, manner or stench). But here's the problem with Mr. Viking. He was my brother's best friend. They had a pact... a code... a stupid fucking agreement. Bros before hos. Yes... that is exactly what they said. So Mr. Viking wouldn't "let" himself love me. His words... I swear. So my weakened heart got broken again. And then again when he started dating the succubus. And she was just that, a succubus. You know what a succubus does? It's sucks the soul out of men.



Yep, that's her. The soul sucking bitch.

She sucked the soul out of my Mr. Viking and made him into this unfunny, scared shell of a man. He suddenly couldn't make the crude jokes he was known for. Or watch football and get incredibly drunk on Sundays which he was known for. All his wit and humor and charm was sucked out of him. So she not only stole his soul, she stole mine.

I was back to the ooze. But I was hardened. I was a crusty ooze. No, I was more then crusty, I had a rock hard shell around me. My love life had taken me through some really hard times. By the time I met my husband I was jaded, and listless. I married him thinking he was what I needed. He was stable, with an excellent job, lived on his own, supported himself and was extremely patient with my bullshit. But as marriages go, his bullshit, added to my bullshit made things difficult. Life has been a roller coaster since then. But that's a different story.

Where has all this history gotten me and why am I writing this all today? Gosh, I have no idea. Let me regroup, rethink why I babbled and then let you know what's REALLY on my mind...

TO BE CONTINUED...

Random Thoughts Monday

With all my BS babbling last post about my random dream (why did I even post all that? I have no idea) I'm going to start something for myself. It's Random Thoughts Monday. I'm going to let you know all the crap that flittered through my mind this weekend and I promise not to drone on too much. But I do love talking incessantly about nothing so please don't hold me too tightly to that promise. Like now, just babbling instead of jumping right into it. *slaps self*

First off, I'm waiting very impatiently for my medication. This medication helps me focus more and not be so scatterbrained. I have been off this medication for 3 weeks now and it's killing me. Upside, I can drink soda, which I can't while on this medication because anything carbonated tastes like I'm sucking on a dirty nickel. So I've been enjoying a soda a day, trying not to get addicted again because I will be taking the meds again soon (hopefully).

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I said I never dream about my kids and husband? Well, the last two nights I totally did. The night before it was my kids, and last night it was my husband. But my dream last night consisted of my mother-in-law and the fact that I will never do anything to make her happy. Which directly correlates into my real life. I will always be too lazy, spend too much money, me too mean to the kids and husband, not work enough--if at all, to please her. All the bullshit I didn't give a damn about while in Florida, I suddenly give a damn about here. Every comment, barb, suggestion and lecture now grates on my nerves. Yea, yea, I get it. She's perfect. I am far from perfect. Well, kiss my imperfect ass.

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I'm a fat tub of lard and sick of being a fat tub of lard. Today is the start of my rigorous workout regime. Which, in reality is at least a 30 minute walk. That's it. Just a walk. I can't afford a gym membership although I'd love to join the gym with the pool and Zumba classes, and yoga, and treadmills, and elipticals, and weights. For hubs and I to join it's a pretty fair price. But that's a lecture I got from the MIL. "You don't need to spend money on a gym, just go to the high school, walk around the track and kick a soccer ball with the kids."  *grits teeth* So, I'm going to drag my tub of lard ass on a walk today. But I refuse to go to the high school or kick any soccer ball on principle alone.

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My husband and I are never on the same page when it comes to parenting. Ninety percent of the time, he's cheating, looking at my paper, writing down my answers. The other ten percent of the time, we aren't even using the same book. My book is called "I'm trying my best so my kids don't grow up to be fucked up." His book is called, "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing."  It's frustrating especially when a kid wakes up at 4am and can't get back to sleep and can give no valid reason why he/she is awake.
Me: Go back to bed. There is no discussion about it. It's too early. Go. Back. To. Bed.
Him: What's wrong? Why are you crying? What do you want me to do? I don't understand what you want me to do! *nudges me until I want to chop his arm off* What should I do? I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do.

Now we are both tired and cranky because we can't share the same parenting book. Grrr...

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I made a Cuban pork roast the other day. By the time it was done I was so exhausted I didn't want to make anything to go with it. So I didn't. My husband was happy as a clam. My kids wouldn't eat it, and me... I ate some but then the guilt of not having a square meal took over so I didn't eat anymore. (See above... fat tub of lard. Not from too much food but from not enough. My body is constantly in starvation mode, won't let go of this goo that it thinks it needs to sustain.)  Anyway, I got concerned about my family and the fact that they don't eat well enough and I wondered if they--specifically my husband who refuses to eat anything healthy--will end up with gout. The gout? Or just gout? But then I couldn't remember, was it gout from lack of nutrition or scurvy? Scurvy sounds disgusting. It gives me the heeby jeebies thinking about it. My family is only eating salad from now on, and drink 100% fruit juice.  If I don't watch out, my family is going to be zombies.

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Regarding above picture... Plants v Zombies was created by the devil to make people like me stay up until 3am playing because you just HAVE to beat the last wave. Then you wake your family because you're cursing at the game because you don't have enough solar power for the chili pepper on the lane that most the zombies are meandering down. Or worse, that freakin' zombie on the zamboni... if you don't burn that lane the skaters will come out and well... game over.  Hehe... zombie zamboni...

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Another game created by the devil? World of Warcraft. That's all I'll say about that.

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A dingo stole my baby!! My dog got a haircut and he looks like a dingo. So I'm going around my house saying "Dingo stole my baby!"



This is my dog.



Here's a Dingo. See the similarity?

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Lastly, I'm going to seriously hurt my husband. The reason being is that he is one huge ball of gas and he usually expells that gas at the worse times of the day. Then he looks at me like "What was that?" He especially likes to fart--yes, I'm saying it FART--when I am on the phone. I go outside for a mommy break or whatever and he follows me out to smoke. He knows I'm on the phone but he doesn't care. He talks and talks then farts and farts. If he doesn't end this soon I'm going to take a sword and chop off one of his extremities and shove it up his butt so the farting will stop and the message is sent that he needs to learn to shut up when I'm on the phone.

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