Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Rants and Rants and Raves.

  • To the people whom have the personality of a tadpole and who have the attitude of Paris Hilton. The world does not revolve around you. I don't care how poor you are and how stressful it is because YOU have made it this way. Not I. I have a decent life and I don't struggle as much as you however, I have worked hard for this. You have done nothing but bitched and complained through life until someone finally hands you what you want in an attempt to shut you the fuck up. So. When you post: "Why is it that some people have it all and others barely scrape by?" on facebook in reference to me and my husband purchasing a 19' Bayliner boat for a mere $1000 through an auction it makes me want you to have nothing until you can overcome your selfish attitude. I didn't realize that by purchasing something for our family was against the rules and we are supposed to reward your family with our earnings instead. Even though you and your wife currently already get more support through the government then most single moms do. And the fact that you carry brand new blackberrys in your pockets, drive newer vehicles, eat out quite often and are able to buy Swans dinners because you don't have to pay cash for your other neccissities thanks to welfare. I have a older phone, a older vehicle then both you and your wife the difference is mine is paid off, I buy only the needed amount of groceries and we rarely eat special treats and I never purchase Swan's as it is not in my budget. My daughter wears consignment Gap, Old Navy, Children's Place and Justice clothes while your nearly one year old is dressed only in new, stylish attire. However, you cannot understand why you are always broke. We budget our money, you blow yours. Figure it out ASSHOLE.
  • Kayne West!!! You are quite possibly the stupidest human being ever. You are as sharp as a beach ball. What exactly did you expect after you shamed a talent like Taylor Swift. She is classy and idolized. You are trashy and disrespectful. This isn't the first time you have had diarrhea from the mouth, and constipation of your thoughts. There isn't enough apologies in the world for us to forget your moment of shame. Remember to cry a river when you don't sell another album ever you moron.
  • Patrick Swayze, Peace to your soul. You are a hero and you fought a good battle and won the war. Rest now...you deserve it.
  • My lovely daughter. Today was 80's day at school for spirit week. I lived through the 80's my dear, and I lived through them very well. I wore the bright neon colors in pride with 50 belts wrapped around my waist and my hair was so big it could be seen in space. You were born in the 90's my love. So. When you want my help to convert you into a 80's protege please do not argue with me. I know what it takes sweet thing. You don't know diddly about the 80's and no amount of internet research can share with you the experience I had. I am never helping you again daughter. But I do love you with every ounce of my being.
  • To the hubby. When the trash is full, you pull out the bag in which the trash lives and you take it outside to the bigger trash can. You DO NOT just lie your garbage on the counter for me to take care of. Because I am a nice wife, I will supply you with ample amounts of lube so you can reconnect with your hand at night for the next few weeks, possibly longer. There are Kleenex next to the lube for clean up. Have fun. Your welcome.
  • To everyone. Please stop calling me for money. I have given enough to charities and have been very generous in helping others out. But just because you forget to pay your electricity bill doesn't mean that I can come to your rescue. And I am sorry that the Animal Shelters need cash now to help all the abused animals. Trust me. If I could find homes for them all I would as I am a huge animal lover but I must insist that I feed my child and my own two dogs before I feed abandoned ones. I am working on a fundraiser for winter that can help but for now.....you are asking the wrong person. And my dear friends, I will no longer help you. In case you missed it...we are purchasing a business and that means that we will be strapped for cash for the next 5yrs or so. Sorry the gravy train just left the station and you will not be riding for free.
  • To the laundry: I am sorry you are neglected but I hate you. You really suck up a lot of my time. It's easier to just go buy new then cleaning you. Once again, sorry.
  • To my floors: Why can't you clean yourself??? You do nothing else. Seriously??? You put the "az" in Lazy.
That's my rants and raves for the month week. It's so much easier to come here and bitch instead of taking my aggressions out on the people who are currently pissing me off. It's been a helluva week people. Boo.Yah. Good times. Good times.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Greetings from the dropout blogger.

(For your amusement....the shorter chick on the right with purple and pink hair is me. At a JONAS BROTHER concert trying to molest one of the brothers with my daughter, niece and sister. Boo.Yah.)

I am so lame. I am disgustingly lame. It is....er...disguisting.
I'll give you a quick glimpse into the life of a ADHD, sometimes OCD and always a PMSing chick.

  • My summer has consisted of water parks, pools, and huge wedgies from my too tight bathing suit. Eh. I love my fat, dimpled butt. It has started to take on a personality of it's own lately. And sometimes it whistles. Hardy.Harr.Har.

  • My daughter is still in a very disturbing stage. Not yet menstruating however having disruptive mood swings like....well....her menopausal mother. Some days it is nothing but a recipe for disaster in this household. Me having hot flashes like a crack addict and my daughter bitching out. Oh.Joy. And it hasn't been proven yet however I do believe my husband has a vagina too. Blah.

  • We are buying a business. I cannot release details as we are still gagged with a confidentiality agreement but we are going to be business owners soon. And I am shitting eggs.

  • I bought a coach purse (one of a few...unbeknown st to my spouse.) and the shitting thing already started tearing when it was only a month old. That pissed me off and I am currently sharing not.so.nice words with Coach. It tickles me pink. I kinda like to argue.

  • I should have a master degree in counseling by now considering I have put in my hours of work with the deranged.

To be continued........

Friday, June 5, 2009

I want to be just like my daughter when I grow up.

Because I am the mother of only one vivacious, over exuberant, sometimes ADHD daughter, I am able to observe things much more then parents with a handful of kids. I am not chasing after a toddler while dealing with pre-hormones at the same time. I am not running from softball with a son to dance with a daughter. You get the point, right???

My daughter goes to a very hip, pretty popular dance company. She is in hip-hop which takes up one night a week. We have a few recitals here and there however are calenders are not filled with dance. At one time, she was also in ballet while hip-hopping her tail end off. But my daughter, being the girl she is, was not thrilled with ballet and it was a bit to slow for her likings. Whatever.

The end of the year recital is a BiG deal. It's extra classes, it's dress rehearsals, it's confusion, it's mind draining. You never get the right information and you always call 10 different moms to find out times. Pictures.Outfits.Shoes.Leotards.Hair.Make-up. It is endless. And most moms are so stressed out that they pop out a few extra grey hairs every year at this time.

Except for me. Oh okay. So you would think that being solely responsible for only ONE kid and ONE Dance group and only 2 Dances and Outfits, I would get my poop in a group. We are talking about me though. So. Nuff' said. I missed a few practices because I was too busy yapping my big ole mouth instead of using my ears. Nice.

Anyway. As I sit through 2 THREE HOUR recitals tomorrow, I will be reminded as to WhY we do NOT allow our daughter to be in more then 2 activities at one time. I see worn out mothers, sleeping through the recital. I see other mothers in hives. I see mothers chasing after toddlers while trying to order their T-Shirts. I see mothers scream at their kids because the pressure is TOO MUCH. I see fathers balancing the check book and scratching their head. I see fathers pacing around the halls, confused as to what they should be doing. I see fathers balancing children in their arms, and carrying flowers to hand to their daughters and instructors after the show. I see mayhem. And I sit reading a book.

Some mothers are so full of baloney they should be renamed Oscar Mayer. As the dance parents join together and gossip, you hear a lot of bull shit. "My daughter wants to be a professional dancer, so the $500 a month we spend now is just establishing her dream." Another mother butts in with "My daughter wouldn't be happy if she didn't have activities scheduled every.day. So the 5 days a week spent running to practices are so worth it." Another mother who needs to excuse her madness jumps in "Oh. Totally. It's good to be busy now days. They won't be in so much trouble as they get older." And me? I sit and snicker at the shit that is spilling out of their mouth.

Never mind the fact that the $500 a month spent on your daughter's activities are paid by a credit card....because they cannot afford it otherwise. Actually, the dance center actually have a credit card you can apply for. Heh. And forget the fact that they cannot be approved for the credit card so their outstanding bill to the dance center is going to collections. And lets not discuss how family time is spent in a car and you or your daughter actually, the whole familyhasn't spent a day at the family table since dance started. And that these moms whom have more then one kid, have not seen their son's softball game in years. Or how about the fact that their daughters grades in school are on the decline because homework isn't getting done and studying happens in the 15min car ride to dance. And let's not discuss how their marriages are suffering because of lack of time together. Those are mute points.

You see. It's high school all over again. Each mom has to have the best of the best and their daughters this usually excludes son's, which is heart breaking have to be the best of the best for their reputation and popularity to shine. I am not making this up. They spend their life savings on tuition's. And they don't bat an eye at it. Sure. They sit together and bitch about how their husbands "just don't understand" and most of them are pouring their hearts out to each other about how they are not separated or divorced. And they cannot understand "WHY" this has happened to me. At the same time, they are using their cell phones to arrange drop off and pick up times for their sons softball game. They call strangers begging for them to usher their son to his one, lonely softball game. *sigh*

The dance studio does offer payment options. And they do offer to do some community service that would help pay for the cost of classes. So. These mothers rush day to day to work at a car wash, baseball game, walk a thons, ecetera to help lower the monthly bill. They do not factor in the gas and the fact that they are truly, in a nutshell, working a second job to support their daughter's extra curricular activities.

Limitations. It's a simple word. It's easy to achieve if you have a backbone. Is it a sin to tell your children "NO" once in awhile?? Or to put away your high school drama and focus on menopause? Do you really need to let your children do whatever they hell they want???

So glad I am really good at saying NO, although my husband isn't so happy about this.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Just when I think things are going to be better.....

This year has sucked monkey balls for us. If I want to get technical I could say that the last few years have been rather crusty to us however, this year has been, at times, unbearable.

In October, I lost my father-in-law.....of whom I miss daily.

On January 1st...my husband lost his job.
Honestly...we were prepared for the job issue. Obviously we couldn't plan for the death but the job thing wasn't a big huge surprise. The company he worked for sucked ass and I knew it was a dead end road the first week of him working there. We started a strict budget that allowed us to put away enough money to suffice us if need be. He stuck it out, lost his job and we began the hunt for his new employment and started diligently investigating the avenue of owning our own business.

Fast forward to now. The economy sucks just like everything else in South Dakota. I don't mean to be bitter however, South Dakota has NoT been fair to us. Jobs are slim pickings and when there is a good job, it has a mound of unemployed individuals fighting for it. Of course, this allows the company to pay this individual pennies on the dollar and because they are greedy shit heads, they use the crappy economy to their advantage. I couldn't lie to you and say I wouldn't do the same thing though. Bygones.

We are totally on the fence about opening our own business only because it is just scary right now. Granted, things are looking more hopeful at Wall Street but that could be because of the band aide effect and in a few more months, years, whatever; we could see the economy hitting rock bottom once again.

The situation is currently making me a little nervous. All of it. Every bit of our lives right now is making me shaky. I refuse to give up on Sioux Falls only because I couldn't imagine pulling my daughter out of her beloved school and throwing her to the wolves at a different school. She is a tween. She is going to be in middle school, which lets face it, 6th grade was brutal for us all.

And on top of all that, we need to add to our stress and worry about home improvements that have to be done this year. Otherwise, we may be without a roof over our heads, literally. The roof needs replaced, the furnace has seen it's better days and some cosmetic changes are in order. *sigh*

I thought about working out so I could dance on a pole somewhere. Truth be told, I won't exercise. I keep saying "tomorrow" and tomorrow always comes and goes away. And my ass cheeks keep expanding.

Don't jump to conclusions. We are not drowning in debt only because we don't have any debt, thank you Dave Ramsey. And we are not suffocating in worry, because we are still okay. We are concerned about moving and we are concerned about the job market yet we will survive. We always do.

Am I whining?? Hell yes I am whinging!!!! You couldn't read this and NOT understand my whining!!!! Am I asking for sympathy???? Der....I am a bonafide attention getter. So your sympathy will be welcomed.

To top off the madness.....this weekend we are heading to my deceased father-in-laws favorite fishing spot to remember. Simply remember a great man who died way to young. And it isn't going to be easy for me or anyone else for that matter.

Truly, what I really need is some prayers. Pray for the job market and for all the families who have been effected by the economy. Pray for peace in our family. Pray for my sanity and for me to get some spunk back, as I have been losing it a lot lately. Pray that we will finally see some light at the end of our tunnel. Pray for my family as we miss a loved one very much this weekend, and everyday.

Please don't think that we need donations are something absurd like that. We do not need anything other then prayers. There are many people worse off then us that could use your donations. Truly, we have been so good about money lately that I give us big pat's on the back. We are survivors. I'm just starting to see things through a different perspective now. It could be another 6 months before my husband finds a job. And that is what makes me piss myself.

Friday, May 8, 2009

What's a Cracker like me been doing???

Well first and foremost, I am dwelling in self pity as I realize that I have become a official blogger drop out. And that I can claim this site as DOA (dead on arrival.)

However, as much as I have considered just closing it down, I cannot force myself to do so. Because I don't like failing, even though I should be used to it by now. And secondly, I like to come here and vent my anger. Better here then towards my family, I say.

I have been busy and busy is good for a nerd like myself. I have been........

  • Doing some partygal parties. Nothing much. Just as favors to my sex addicted friends whom need that extra thrill in their lives. Buzz.Buzz.
  • Taking ownership of this house again and punished it with some serious spring cleaning. The garage now harbors a boat, car and motorcycle instead of trash, mice and things that should have been deemed "toxic."
  • Whooping it up with friends and family.
  • Drinking a lot of wine. What??? It's good for the heart. Don't judge me.
  • Cussing out a Priest while exhibiting some of my nasty road rage. I have re-taught myself some prayers and begged for forgiveness.
  • Spanked my husband. Just checking to see if anyone is listening.
  • Spanked the dogs because they are holy terrors.
  • Doing some remodeling in the house. I am the proud owner of new stainless steel appliances in which I adore.
  • Flirting with salesmen to get some descent discounts for said appliances.
  • One of the salesmen got violently ill from my said flirting.
  • Yard work. Well some until I got pissy and just called a lawn care company to control the raging weeds in my yard.
  • Had a vicious cold and therefore convinced myself that I did indeed have the swine flu. After all, I have been pigging out lately. Oink.Oink.
  • Banned any sex with my husband because he wasn't cleaning the proper way while I fought off the swine flu.
  • Convinced my daughter to pick up all the dog piles outdoors. This worked until I realized she threw all the dog crap in the neighbors yards. And for a side note. I cannot stand these neighbors.
  • Been on a few road trips but nothing to write home about.
  • Had approximately 400 temper tantrums about home improvements trumping vacations.
  • Threatened to burn the house down about 500X's.
  • Played computer games instead of doing laundry.
  • Guests have been ravishing our home lately.
  • 4 trillion pounds of homework.
  • Texting until my fingers bled.
  • Singing karaoke.
  • badly
  • Behaved like a toddler.
  • Wet my pants a billion times from sneezing.
  • Definitely have had some serious ADHD.

The End.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Ode to my daughter.....

Dear sweet hormonal, lovable girl....

You are so devious at times that I could just punch myself right in the kisser. However, in the very next second, you look at me with those beautiful blues and pouty lips and I melt into you once again. You are devious because you know that your mother is a complete sucker for you.

I can be mad as hell one minute and then consumed by your charm the next. Your charisma and personality radiate love, compassion, fun, laughter and wickedness. I don't know a person who isn't in love with your humor and quick wit. You are your mothers daughter.

This hormonal stage is going to make me pull out every strand of hair out of my head and I fear your dad is dead serious about a chastity belt he's been on ebay searching and bars on your window. Your eye rolling and mouthiness has gotten you in more trouble these past few months then ever before. Your determination to fight with me or to argue is certainly going to land you grounded for life and me in a padded cell. And even though you have heard the word and know the word "NO", you have coincidentally forgotten what it means. Your manners must have been thrown out the window and replaced with crabbiness.

Yet. You still have those killer eyes that make me weep. And you still have your dad and mom wrapped around your little pinky finger. I won't even get into your grandparents and aunts and uncles because we all know that to them, you can do no wrong.

I have watched you sleep like so many nights before. You are growing up and I don't like it much. I miss my chubby little girl with the sweetest of hugs and kisses. You still give the best hugs ever, but I don't have chubby little legs wrapped around my waist any longer. You are almost as tall as me now. Yet I am so excited for your future. I know with all my heart that you are going to make a difference. You have so much light in you that sometimes it's blinding.

I know that you are full of wisdom however, you do not know all. I argue and fight with you over the stupidest of things because you have a sassy-frass attitude that you are always right. You got that from your father.

A menopausal mom and a hormonal daughter are like oil and water but a mom's love for her daughter is a bond that I will never share with anyone else. You are my girl.....

I can sit here and complain about all your hormonal episodes and trust me....there are days that I do. But today....I sit here with tears in my eyes and hurt in my heart.

Today...I read of a sweet baby girl that went to go live with Jesus. She left her weeping parents behind so she could breathe freely and struggle no more. I am so stingy...because I wish she was still here with her parents. Although I don't know the hurt they have, I can understand it. Because I could never imagine living a day without you.

And as I sit here, I am listening to your dads pager and I hear of a baby that is in full cardiac arrest and I can sense the panic in the EMT's voices as they try so desperately to breath life back into a infant. A baby. And my heart is in my stomach and my tears are running down my face. The fear and loneliness these parents must feel right now is so scary to me. I can only pray that God wraps his Heavenly arms around these parents and angels.

So. Today my sweet hormonal daughter. I will not argue with you about wearing makeup even though you will not wear makeup in 5th grade and I will not argue about buying you a bra story for another day. I will just sit here and remember how lucky I am and how blessed my life is and I will cry for these families. Yet I will always be grateful for you sweet girl.

I love you my skeeter butt munchkin butt......

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

True to yourself???

"The best way to drain life out of yourself is to have a death grip on your true personality. And if you have never failed at something, then you are NOT trying hard enough."

Do you ever have to deal with the "complainers" or the "back stabbers" or the "whiners" in your life? Or my Gawd....don't you want to smack them straight in the face hole???

I mean seriously. Complain. Groan. Poor Poor Me. And yet. They make No effort to change or to sacrifice just to make things right again. Don't you wanna kick them in the head???

I get down too. There are some really dark times that I have drudged through. I have cried rivers and been on bended knee many times begging and pleading for strength, relief, time, etc. And you bet, I wiped my nose on many a friends shirts and laid across the laps of my family while they console a sobbing bag of mess. I have sat in the sunniest of pastures but seen nothing but dark, gloomy clouds. I have had to walk through the sand to get to the ocean.

I am all about metaphors today.

And I have had to hold my head up and plant a big, sappy smile on my face to just try and pull myself up. And I know that people were sick and tired of hearing me cry and whine. And I don't want to be the one everyone hates to be around. C'mon. I'm a firecracker. I can't be the dreary butt of the group.

And some people did smack me in the face hole and told me to suck it up.

I swear....they did.

But I shoved donuts in my mouth and pretended like I was happy and then I went to the doctor and got put on some happy pills. And they are good. And when you drink alcohol with them, you see little naked leprechauns doing head stands while singing "The Star Spangled Banner."
And then you laugh and laugh and you feel soooo much better however, nobody else sees those silly little men so you sorta look like you just snorted fairy dust. Careful. This can cause some concern.

Anywho. The point to this delusional, effed up story is you make the most of your life. I'm tired of the downers. I feel like shooting them in the foot. I'm sick of the crabs, the cocky asses, the depressed and oh so deprived of life. And I'm not going to deal with it anymore.

"I'm not gonna take it....NO...I ain't gonna take it....I'm not gonna take it anymoreeeee..........."

(name that tune. Seriously, name that tune with the singer bc I forgot who it is.)

Thursday, April 2, 2009

To Spoil or Not to Spoil???

Sheylee on the left and her twin-friend Emily.

My child is spoiled.

She doesn't act spoiled, because she is 11yrs old and nothing is never good enough at this age however, she doesn't brag to all her friends that she has "this" or she has "that."

Some of her friends are poverty stricken. Some of them is because of their own selfish needs, others because they have more then one child and little income. Some because the economy has eaten them alive. Stupid Economy.

I'll tell you right now. My daughter is in dance, will start guitar lessons once she is ready (the instructor feels she isn't ready yet.), has a Nintendo DS, a Nintendo Game Boy (a gift from her Aunt), a Wii (technically, that was my gift but I never wanted one so I'm pretty sure it was my husbands gift.), a cell phone and now a PSP. She has nice clothes and shoes to wear, even though she won't wear them because they feel funny and only wears the scurvy clothes. Bygones.

She has two dogs, one was a present to her that she adores and she truly is Sheylee's dog. She has friends over constantly. We take her places often. We don't do many trips but she has been to Orlando, Fl.

I'm not the only one who spoils her. My parents, Hubs parents, my sister, my sister in law, friends, etc. She is a very loved little girl. Most of my friends have all boys, so they have adopted and spoiled my daughter. This doesn't bother me because the more love, the better rounded.

But I'm afraid we spoil our daughter too. Not just me. It's we. My husband has a hard time saying "no" sometimes too......even though he will deny it. They went to Walmart the other night without me and she came home with a new digital camera. And note. This has already been taken away because of her eye rolling attitude. And I was the meany who did it. Proudly.

We discipline her. She suffers consequences often. We take things away. We ground her and we stick to our guns. She doesn't do terrible things, she is a mouth, but only pushes it so far before she realizes she is tipping on the edge. Usually, she is warned by the evil mom look that I have grown so accustomed to doing. She is a preteen and I understand the phases.

I can say this. I was spoiled too. My mom was very poor as a child. Her dad hauled garbage and many times her Christmas presents and shoes came from trash. She had a fantastic childhood however, she was ridiculed and humiliated by classmates because of her ragged attire. So. She also endured a very abusive relationship to my real sperm donor ( I have no contact with the mother fucker.) Abuse to the worst degree. So. When she finally got the nerve to leave him (he never went to jail even though he through my mom through a plate glass window once. Laws were different then.) and found my new dad (our hero), she started to try and compensate for all the harsh times we had. Oh. And after her divorce, she was severely stalked by a lunatic and would sleep with a shot gun and throw us in closets when he broke into the house several times a week. That's a story for a later day though.

Anyway, I was spoiled. So was my sister. I can say this. I was way mouthier to my mom then Sheylee is to me. I am more of the punisher then my mom ever was. I knew how to irritate snot right out of her. Looking back. I laugh. Now. I cry.

My dad. Not so much the wiener. Oh no. I got a D in high school and I was grounded for 9 weeks. No phone. No friends. No nothing. And I'll be damned if it wasn't the full 9 weeks until he un-grounded me. Ugh.

I like to think that we are better about consequences then my parents. Mainly because my mom didn't do anything and my dad over-consequenced. Yet. I never once got a spanking. Isn't that odd. I was a mouthy little bitch to my mom. I should have sat with soap in my mouth for years. I should still be burping bubbles.

I don't like to say that I am my mother. None of us do. However. I am my mother but I learned more from her then she will ever know. And all those times that she cursed me and told me I would have a daughter "Just like you" I secretly knew it was the truth and braced for this day. Haha momma. I did listen.

Regardless. I turned out pretty okay. I was never rude or disrespectful to anyone. I have a kind heart and a need to help others. My daughter already has many wonderful qualities that will get her along in life just fine.

I may not be lucky.....but I have my blessings. And I'm hoping that my daughter has a kid just like her when she is older too.

"Mirror, Mirror on the wall......I am my mother after all." :0)

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Patience is the virtue....Blah.Blah.Blah.

Today I feel like a lady of not so many words yet a lot on my mind. My tongue wants to shout out profanities in every single language, and I don't know why.

I don't feel like getting into my trauma drama and hell but I want to say this. I want to yell this from the top of my lungs. Patience sucks. How long do you have to wait until patience just turns into forever?

And just what is normal really? Each of us have our own perspective on normal? Hell. I think, at times, that I am normal. Then I take the blood pressure cuff off of my neck and inhale again and realize that, Nope, I am certainly not normal. But at least my blood pressure is good.

But is it okay for someone else to call me odd? Because I live a different life? And because your life is boring and not as interesting as my life of stories filled with poop, stress, poop, puke, poop, kid, poop, husband, poop, dogs, etc.

And back to the patience. Why do I feel just when good things are going to happen, it all takes the wrong turn right into the city dump? I seriously feel that at times, my "thinking" positively leads to negative things. I gotta be honest, I feel seriously jinked at times. Is that normal?

I may not be lucky.....but I am blessed. I have my family, my husband, my sweet daughter whom I adore, my friends, my faith, my angels. But sometimes I still feel hopeless. I know my blessings and are so very thankful but I still cannot shake the feeling of discouraged and ill fated.

Why does contentment feel impossible for me? I never feel content. I always feel edgy, agitated, skittish, ecetera.

I am tired. I admit. I have been sick. I need a few hundred beers and I could use a good day of happiness. I could use some alone time. I could use a whole lot of something but I don't know what because I am fidgety. And this post is all over the place and it makes no sense and that is EXACTLY how I feel.

Time. Patience. Virtue. Ugh.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Oh Shit balls.

First and foremost. I have mono.

*applause all around for the sick bitch.*

Second, my loins, my muscles, my tendons, my hair. It all hurts. Why? Because of that evil ho Jillian and her 20minute workout. Owwwwiiiieeee.

I am a warrior and I am gonna work through the burn again today. Maybe. Well. We'll see. This is where I need some super dooper support.

Too bad my blog has gone from a solid "C" straight to a "F". I still have my friends that frequent though and they are pushing me through. Read the comments of my last post. Stlbee....she is there for me. Thank you Boo-Boo McFoo. She knows my pain.

Have I ever told you that I am a baby when it comes to pain?

My daughter, well, she is making me age in dog years now. Sassy McSassa Frass is grounded for oh....I don't know.....a lifetime. The child, whom is boarder line OCD, ADHD and could possibly have some sort of sensory disorder just HAD to wear gaucho's on a MAYBE 40* day. I pick my battles. Then, as the child entered the windy outdoors that had a bite to it, she complained and ironically, it was all my fault for allowing her to wear them.

I got peeved and told her to walk to school (It's 3 freaking blocks people). She questioned child abuse and was once again, grounded for a second lifetime. As a not so patient mother, in menopause, with mono and has her loins on fire, you may just not want to fuck with me. She doesn't get it. Never has.....probably never will.

I curse my mother for saying: "I hope someday you have a daughter that acts just like you."
That is what I call child abuse. My mom should be behind bars.

I should be sleeping, yet I refuse to sleep my days away which in turn means I won't get better. Double edged sword thing. I should go put on my support bra poor thing doesn't stand a chance with my boobies and cuss at Jillian for 20 minutes however, I just don't feel like it yet. I said yet. There is still a chance.

I should go shower, but for what. I'm just going to put on my hot blue yoga pants, halter top and snugglie and go embarrass the hell out of my daughter for making my life difficult by visiting her at school. And so you can get the full visual, my mid section resembles a tube of dough that exploded.

Mama can be a bitch too.

And. I'm gonna disconnect the phone's and turn off the cell phone because even though most people know of my current diagnoses of mono, it doesn't hinder them from calling in favors. So. Poo to you people. This is my free pass to lounge and not do a damn thing for you. Have fun taking care of your own dilemmas.

I'm now going back to bed.....just to rest my eyes snore like a mother effer even though I don't want too. My eyelids are not cooperating and the toothpicks are breaking under the stress.

All of this....before 8am. This is what I wake up for???? Grrrrr.

To be somewhat positive, my pre-hormonal daughter got a great report card again. So. I might limit her grounding to 20yrs. She better be on best behavior tonight though.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

The new me.

It sucks to be somewhat beautiful not even close. I have decided to take a new track on life and well.....it's killing me.

Exercise. Ugh. I decided to try the Biggest Loser bitch trainer that has made 500lb humans weigh 100lbs. It is 20 minutes of vigorous exercise. By vigorous I mean for 20 minutes you don't breath and sweat pollutes your eyes. But through research, this is the fastest way to lose the fat rolls. You go full bore for shorter amount of times. If I choose to be positive, I could say that it is just 20minutes of my day but my negative side is saying that my lungs exploded and my heart pounded out of my chest. And. I'm pretty sure my groins are on fire. And not the good kinda fire either. But I'm giving it a try. I'll do it again tomorrow, I hope, and see if I can lose the 20lbs in 30 days that it promises. I'm already dreading tomorrow. *sigh*

Alli weight loss system. Well. If you don't mind pooping slime out of your anus then this is the stuff for you. I talked with my Doctor and I talked to my pharmacist and it isn't harmful if used accordingly. It doesn't even make my other meds react differently and make me all whacked out. And I have already lost some weight because I shit it out of my bunghole. It isn't pretty, but it shows results. And yes....I do everything the easy way.

Better eating habits. Well. Let's just say I'm trying. Okay. Move on now.

Drinking water. I used to hate the taste of water. Like gag on a glass of water. Which isn't so rad when your kidneys are less then perfect and you sometimes pee syrup. Diet coke doesn't help with the syrup peeing either. However, our stellar new fridge with a water dispenser and filter makes me love water and I actually prefer it over a can of pop. Not a fountain diet coke, I can never find another love like that, but I still spoil myself once in awhile with it and I still drink more water then pop. And my kidneys are thanking me by peeing a nice pretty color of yellow instead of bright orange or dark mud. This is good.

The problem. I'm pretty sure I have mono. How do I know. Because everyday I have to take a nap. And I despise naps. I wake up like a crabby bore. It's ugly. I don't like wasting my days away. I would rather be proactive. But my energy nil and every little thing is exhausting. Oh. And because my nephew had mono just a few weeks ago and I was kissing my little munchkin, drinking from the same cup and snuggling my little bug. My glands are not swollen, I don't have a fever and I don't feel sick. Just physically drained. It could be fibromyalgia, it could be my thyroid, it could be the lack of caffeine. It could be I'm getting old. WebMd said it was an aneurysm.

Or maybe I'm just trying to get some sympathy from my husband and he'll buy me that beautiful ring I have had my eye on. Hmmmmmmmm............

I need you. I need you to tell me how much you hate exercise and how much you do it anyway. I need you to push me forward and keep me going. I need ideas. I need you to tell me how to forever change my ways. Not just a temp thing like I have done in the past. Help me. Love me. Help me.
Oh, and I got a new darker dye job with awesome highlights and a cut. I love it.

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Can I have some guilt with a side of throw up?

Let me lay it out for you. I question my motherhood often. Not because I am the mom that abuses her child or neglects her or wishes her away.

I love, adore and inhale the scent of my beautiful daughter everyday. Her beauty and intelligence is outstanding. Her zest for life is intoxicating. Her sweetness brings me to tears. My heart bleeds fear just thinking about ever losing her. I am in tears just thinking about that right now. She is my favorite person in the world.

My daughter is exceptional. Her heart is big and full of love. Her smile is contagious. Her laughter is infectious. Everyone who meets her loves her. I'm not over bragging either. It is the God's honest truth. To know her is to love her.

She has her sides that make me wanna gauge out my eyeballs with a hot toothpick. But I don't feel like talking about them right now.

Except for her sensitivity. And this is where I feel like a shithole mother just one reason

I like that she is sensitive and not a cold hearted bitch. I like that she cares enough to have a delicate heart. But on the flip side. I want her to not care so much of what others think of her. She is hurt daily by friends and classmates. Over things that are really not a big deal. But to her, they are.

So. Sometimes I tell her that she needs to grow a tougher skin. To not care about those other fifth grade snots that tell her she looks like Willy Wonka when she cuts her beautiful hair chin length. To tell the winches to shut their pie holes. I try to encourage, yet there are times that I sorta look like I don't care about her problems. Because if I make a big deal out of it, she will too. I talk to her about it....I just don't dwell on it.

And then if that isn't concerning enough, there is last night. I went out. It was bunko night where me and a few girls play a fun game of dice and then get snookered. I had that and another b'day party to attend. Let's just say that after my third sex on the beach with cream, I was feeling numb.

And then my phone starts vibrating like a pimped out dildo. My daughter is with my sister, spending time with them so she could attend my nieces b'day party. My sister is harsher then us with her kids and sometimes this sends Sheylee into a crying rampage. She isn't mean, just has a different way of parenting. To each thy own, right? They were fighting. I was drunk. My sister was mad at Sheylee and Sheylee was hurt and I was in the toilet throwing up after 14 sex on the beaches with cream. try a sex on the beach with half and half in it....you will fall in love

*note-The glasses were small even for a ompaa-loompa.*

And so I am in the bathroom, puking out the contents from my stomach, which was so bad that I'm pretty sure the last Thanksgiving dinner came out of my nostrils. And I tell my kid to toughen up (my sister had a valid reason to be upset but she doesn't need to yell either.) and to go to bed. I call my parents, whom only live 5 minutes away, and make arrangements for them to go get my daughter in the morning. My daughter, whining like a stuck pig, is still on a rampage. I'm now throwing up last Easter dinner and it isn't looking any prettier.

I'm don't ever seem to get a break. Getting a cell phone for her was the worst thing to do. I'm feeling mighty fine (besides the turkey leg getting lodged in my throat from Christmas time), having a good time, or was at least, and wanted to continue to have fun. Fuck. I deserve it people.

So. I told my daughter: "Mom is drunk. Mom is having fun with her friends. Mom needs alone time too. Mom needs to enjoy a night without drama. Now go to bed or you are grounded until my first grandchild is produced. And since you are my only child and will be grounded, that means forever. Good night. I love you. Toughen up."

And I didn't get another text. And today, with my hangover polluting my thinking and my toilet being flushed every 2 minutes, I feel like a shit hole mom, yet again.

Mama was drunk. Mama put drinking before her spawn. Mama is a fuck face.

The End.

*note* My husband was equally drunk and texting back and forth to her too. As always, he had more patience. After my text. She didn't text him either. And she isn't texting me back today or answering her phone. I'm a bad.bad.mom.

Boo to me. I already know.

I gotta go throw up now.

Monday, March 16, 2009

New Friends.

Today is 67* outside with no wind. It is beautiful. It is gorgeous. It is my kind of weather.

Yet. I am restless. I am bored. I'm depressed for no good reason. I should be outside enjoying my weather. But I don't wanna. I could be cleaning my house with the windows open. But I don't wanna. I could go for a walk while jamming to my ipod. But I don't wanna. I could be shopping. But I feel guilty. I could be cleaning out the garage. But hell no. I'm blogging. But truthfully, I don't wanna.

I'm in a mood where nothing will make me happy. So. I turned to my friends. I sent out a text that read:

"Dear Friends. I am bored and restless. And because you are my friends you have no choice but to hear me whine. Trust me. I've heard you whine a thousand times before too so it is time to repay. Pity me."

I'm not dumb enough to think that there would be a pity party for me. I tried deeming today "Krissy-Pa-Looza" knowing full well it would be more like "Krissy-gets-Poopedon". But it was worth a shot. Here are just a few of my replies.

To: Krissy

From: Friend A

"I'm tired and don't wanna work so shut up. Go clean my house."

My response:

Fine. Just fine. Fine.Fine.Fine. I need new friends. (she totally knows I'm kidding.)

Her response:

haha. LMAO.

To: Krissy

From: Friend B


(She has been my BFF since middle school. I'm used to her abuse.")

My response:

I'm deeming you a monkey's ass.

Her response back:

Good. Go get me some banana's.

My response back:

I'll get you banana's alright and shove them up your butt hole.

To: Krissy

From: Friend C

"Go get your eyebrows waxed because I have been noticing a uni-brow growing on your forehead.

My response:

I like having a Caterpillar on my forehead. It keeps my eye's warm.

To: Krissy

From: Friend D

"Life is a box of chocolates, so go eat some."

My response:

I'm on a freaking diet but thank you for making me hungry now.

To: Krissy

From: Friend E

"You are such a idiot."

My response:

You need a cat scan.

To: Krissy

From: Friend F

"Here's your pity. Piss off."

My response:

Wipe my ass! Nut lick-er.

(another long time friend and this is normal.)

To: Krissy

From: Friend G

"Krissy. Stop your depression or I will smack you upside your head. Do you understand me? Now go give your hubby a BJ"

My response:

You are such a crappy friend. And what fun is servicing him for me????? Duh

(Again. Normal.)

There were more words said. Finally I text them all and said.

"You all suck eggs. Boo.Too.You. I need new friends....ASSES. :-)"

And they all responded back with:

"We love you. You always make us laugh. You are hilarious. What would we do without you?"

So. Even though I needed the pick-me-up.....I made them all happier. You are probably thinking that I should feel good about making them have a better day and YOU.ARE.WRONG. I want to be the happy one today.

Well. Actually. I'll tell you that it was fun. So. It did make me happy. But I am not telling them that. And actually. I am so damn lucky to have these geeks in my life.

Here's my favorite pic of the week. It is my daughter. And I took the shot. She is my guinea pig. But a cute one.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Mental Awareness Time.

Let's face it. I'm mental. I am aware that I am high strung. I am a worry tumorwart and I am very aware that I am borderline OCD and ADHD. This is the short list.

Nonetheless....it is all well maintained. I am learning to cope with my anxiety and stress. It is worse then counting calories or in my case, popping an Alli pill every meal and pooping out lard. But mental wellness is something that can be obtained by a hard work and the want to live life without stress controlling your every thought.

Not only is stress exhausting and restraining; it is harmful to your health as well. Did you know that stress can cause:

stomach disorders
intestinal disorders
nerve disorders
heart issues
skin issues
liver disorders
and so on and so on...........

Did you know that stress can decrease your life span drastically? Did you know that stress is the number one cause of death???? This is not a fib. This is the facts. Stress can kill you and is more of a threat then heart attacks. You.Need.To.Listen.

First. You must identify the cause of stress. The list can be long. It can include money (the number one reason for most humans anxiety and depression), jobs, kids, family, marriage, friends, etc. You are more then likely worried about more then one thing. But. Like a block of ice, chip off the biggest reason first and once you have resolved it, tackle the next one on your list.

Sometimes it is easier for people to start at the smallest reason and move to the biggest worry. It feels empowering when you somehow manage to control your LIFE. This is important. This is detrimental to you living a better life.

For instance, let's use me as a Guinea Pig. Or just a pig if you wish. I can handle the truth.

I worried a lot about money. Money to me is evil. It causes so much trauma and drama and is just plan evil. It reeks evilness. It is evil-riffic.

So. I realized that my biggest worry is by all means, finances. I stress about retirement, about college, about the economy, about the prices of groceries. The prices of gas. The whole kit and caboodle. It was so overwhelming to me. You can never have enough. EVER. And for me, it was out of control. I needed to find peace with it.

Second. Think about the worst thing that could ever happen. Okay. This could be a multitude of things however, I thought about the single most worst thing to happen. That would be to lose my house. My comfort zone. There is nothing worse then that. Even though we aren't even close to losing our home and it isn't really an option, I started here. Because, the unknown bothers the shit out of me. The "what ifs" of life. What if the economy got so bad we lost our home? It isn't that big of a stretch when you watch the world news and you see the depression (don't get me started....this is not a recession! Our country is witnessing a full blown depression and we might as well get used to the word.) So after giving myself an ulcer at the pure thought of this, I had to move on to step three. I will forewarn you......this step was the hardest for me because my brain raced about the worst case scenarios. I was gulped up by anxiety. And I had to simply breath and meditate for a few minutes to focus on the task on hand. It did help.

Step Three. Face it. Man....I said that step two was the hardest for me but that was because my stress was eating me alive. In this step, I had to stop being a pansy. It was time to own up to my problems and handle them. In this step....I had to focus on the positive. My fears and anxieties were "what ifs" and so I had to prepare myself. So. I thought of the things that I would have to deal with. For instance. If we lost our house, I would have to find a new place that would allow pets. Scary. I could not give up my furbabies. Not.An.Option. So. I secretly looked in the paper and saw that there are houses to rent and apartments to rent that allow dogs. Even gigantic dogs like mine. Then I focused on my daughter. The stress this would cause for her. And as much as it would hurt and as hard as it would be, she would survive if we survived. And I would be willing to do whatever I could to help her cope. I am capable of that. And then I moved on to ownership and my feeling of defeat if this happened. And as much as my ego would be bruised, I would still be alive and kicking and my life wouldn't be over because my ego was bruised. Ecetera, Ecetera, Ecetera.

And then. The most amazing thing happened. I stopped worrying about the "What if" because it isn't as bad as it sounds. For me. I could cope. And then I started realizing that we are lucky because it is far fetched. And as much as the economy is failing, we have a low house payment and it is not killing us financially. And we can 100% afford this house on half of the income we have. And we don't have any home improvement loans on our house. We don't have second mortgages. We are in a great position to never lose this house. And then I remembered that this house is a savings account in a sense. We have some good equity. And if worse comes to worse....we always have that.

What happened. When I was consumed with fear of the "what ifs" and the anxiety it caused, I wasn't seeing clearly. I was too worried to see clearly. And once I realized that I would survive the worst case scenario, I cleared my vision. And I started thinking rationally. And all of a sudden, my biggest fear became a laughable thought.

I am going to post more about mental health awareness. Not because I am a expert but more because I am a victim. And I am learning slowly to become a survivor. And I want to share my thoughts and experiences with you. To help you. To fight with you. This isn't a witty post. There is no humor. It can be quite boring. But it may just help you. This is only the beginning stages but trust me....to go to bed one night with one less thing to worry about is uplifting. And always remember, that every problem can be resolved.

To be continued.........................

Thursday, March 5, 2009

It really is all about poop.

NOTE: If you have a weak stomach and gag at the mention of poop.....keep reading. I don't want to be the only one gagging.

Let me set this straight. I hate the word poop. I hate the word fart. I know I use it in my vocabulary often but I am usually typing it. Not saying it. I spit when I say poop. It's the way my mouth forms that makes me shower whoever or whatever is in front of me.

And. I hate poop and farts. I gag. I actually threw up a little once while changing my own daughters diaper. It makes me hurl chunks. And I hate puke too. So. I'm fucked. But I do get a sicky feeling when I see poop or smell farts. It is disgusting.

But I cannot stay away from it. It follows me. It is everywhere I go.

My dog ate a whole roll of toilet paper. She ate the whole entire thing. I didn't really know which dog it was, so I scolded both of them. Until today.

My old dog Vamp, had a hanger. It was a long string of paper hanging out of her butt hole. It was so gross. Naturally, I made her stay outside until she could lose the hanger. After awhile, I realized it wasn't coming out on it's own.

This is where you could puke.

I had to pull it out of her ass. The dog should have just shit a tree. Seriously. I kept pulling and pulling and....well....you get the picture.

She felt elated that she didn't have a wad of T.P. stuck up her intestines anymore and I was heaving and gagging and cussing and yelling.

My dog is going green because she recycles paper. Awesome.


I am taking Alli for weight loss. I had no choice. My pants were cutting off circulation to my legs and turning them purple. And I cannot even get my large ass off of the couch to sign up for the gym.....let alone go work out.

And when it says that you poop some weird, nasty slimy stuff out of your hole, it wasn't lying. In a few words, you shit the fat you it out. And it looks like grease. It is horrible.

And the gas is even worse. It smells like rotting fish. Can I get a "Ewwwww."

However, it works. You look into the bowl after a movement and realize that the lard you just squirted out is what you force into your face hole. Not very appetizing. So. I have second thoughts when I order the chicken sandwich with extra mayo off of the Burger King menu.

I said I thought about turning it down. I don't have that much will power. Geesh.

My husband likes to fart. My daughter likes to fart. My friends like to fart. My dad likes to fart. My sister and mother like to fart. My niece and nephew like to fart. Need I say more?????


My life stinks.....literally.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

For Sale.

If you are in need of a husband, look no further. You can have mine!

For a short time, you can bring home this fine piece of ass and prop him in a recliner with the remote in his hand. He will sit there, flipping through channels, farting, scratching his balls and out right ignore you or any of your demands.

But WAIT. There's more!!!!!!

When it comes to children, he is a special breed. He will actually come out of his t.v. trance long enough to say "Hi. How was your day?" to the children and answer math questions they may have. You must act quickly though. He is only coherent for a short time before his eyes glaze over and he can no longer interact with human kind.

He makes good money, enough for you to stay home and do all his laundry, cooking, cleaning, child care and become a under paid whore. Once in a great while, after oodles of begging, he may rub your back for 45 seconds before complaining that his arm is tired. It's pure bliss for those enjoyable 45 seconds though.

And you can sit in the comfort of your own home and smell the horrendous farts that he is truly the master of.

All of this PLUS!!!

He's pretty good in bed. Okay. He's the master of the bedroom. Sex or standing in front of him naked is your only ticket to get his eyes away from the flat screen.

If you ask him to do something, even though it is a small task, it will take him 7 days to fulfill your wishes. He uses the "Honey Do" list as toilet paper to wipe his ass. On the bright side, you save money on toilet paper.

If his friends call or he has a meeting which is only suitable for meetings that are well worth his time and involves having "meeting's after the meetings" (aka the bar) he is very motivated and it doesn't take him anytime to get ready to run for the door. This only applies to things that peaks his interest. If it is to go shopping, he will procrastinate for an eternity.

He pouts and whines like a toddler. So. If you are unable to have children and are pursuing adoption, he is a winner. You do not have to change shitty diapers yet. like you would with a infant.

And if the mood is right and I am bitchy enough, he comes with a package deal. Not only do you get this one husband, but you could have the fortune of getting the kid and two dogs to go along with him.

*note* He does not feed the dogs or kid. That is your job.

I will ship him to you as soon as he changes the light bulb in the bathroom that has been burned out for several weeks now. I can think positive and say that he will be on your doorstep in the next few days however, that is laying a lot of hope in him.

Act fast! This could all be yours for the low price of $.01 and if you comment within the next hour....

I will pay for shipping.

Make Checks Payable to:

One bitchy wife.
6969 UpHisAss Avenue
Butthole, FU 69696

*Note* I love my husband and he is a wonderful man and father but today, he done pissed me off. So. I turned to the blog for my therapy. Thank you for understanding that I am one messed up menopausal bitch.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Dislikes and likes.

Things I dislike.

  1. When someone owes you money and instead of paying you back, they buy themselves items that are clearly on a "want" list and not a "need" list. i.e. Big screen T.V.'s, Wii's, games, vacations, etc. This is beyond rude and I can guarantee that there will never be anymore handouts. EVER.

  2. Keeping up with the Jone's. I'm sorry if this offends you. But there is nothing that is more upsetting to me then getting dogged by a friend because her "new" friend lives in the posh neighborhood and we live in the "modest" side of town. It is disturbing. I don't keep up with the Jone's because a.) I don't have the need to be in debt for the rest of my life and b.) I just don't feel any better about myself just because I drive the cool cars or live in the upside of town. And let me just say that if you are wondering if this is you that did this too me.....probably not because I can guarantee the person of who I am speaking of doesn't read this blog.

  3. Judgement. This goes along with #2. Don't judge me because I don't wear designer duds (even though I sorta do. I just buy it at consignment shops.) or because I don't have the "look" that you feel I need. I will be the first to admit, I sometimes judge people myself. I know. Completely hypocritical. However, I don't like myself for doing it. I have been making a conscious effort to stop doing this and matter of factly, it was a New Year Resolution.

  4. Condescending assholes. Nothing makes my blood boil more then individuals who condescend others to make themselves feel better. I'm sorry. But this cannot make you feel too good about yourself either. Truly. Is being disrespectful and demeaning to another, especially someone you confess to love, making you any better of a person? It is hurtful and cruel and my stomach hurts when I see sadness in a loved ones face when harsh words are spoken to them.

  5. Selfish, rotten humans. I hate selfishness. If you have something to spare....then spare it. I give to charities often. I also give to friends that are in stressful times. I won't share names but I will give an example because truly, I am deserving of a pat on the back. I'm not trying to be conceited or I don't need verification that I am a nice person because I am not always so nice. but I want people to Pay it Forward as well. A friend of mine was struggling this past Christmas and was worried about buying Christmas gifts for her family. I knew she was struggling back in August. I started saving dimes and pennies and by time Christmas rolled around, I handed her $300 to buy presents. To this day, no one knows what I did but her and I. I will not tell anyone either and told her the same. Only because I want her family to be appreciative of her hard work. And she does work hard. She just had some ripples to take care of. So. I helped as a friend. And I'm proud that her family had a nice Christmas and she got the attention she deserved.

  6. Conceited fucks. Oh do I loath conceited people. How irritating is it when every single thing you say someone has done it and done it better. It is so annoying. It is equivalent to scraping nails on a chalk board. Speaking for myself, I don't give a rat's ass if you have done it better then me. Let me get out a sentence before you must interrupt the conversation to give examples of your greatness. R.U.D.E. I try to understand low self esteem for being the source to the conceitedness but I have a hard time understanding this.

Things I love.

  1. My daughter and her sweet face when she is sleeping. She can be such a devil at times but when she sleeps, she resembles nothing less then a precious angel. I love to listen to her breaths, the way her lip quivers when she sleeps and the way she talks so sweetly in her sleep. She is absolutely the love of my life.

  2. The way my husband gives me gentle reminders of how much he loves and adores me. The way he rubs my back when I am pushing a grocery cart through the store. Or the way he hugs me and kisses my forehead. The way he gives me air kisses from across the room. He is so perfect for me in every single way.

  3. The way my family cares and worries about us. The way they all lend support when we need it and affection when we want it. My family. All of my family, are always going to be some of my favorite people forever and always.

  4. Friends of all different kinds. My friends are diverse. And I fit perfectly into their lives as they do to mine. The positive reinforcement they offer when I need it. Friends are so important in my life and always will be.

  5. The love my dogs give me even after I yelled at them for chewing up a shoe again. They are so forgiving and so dependable and they love me for everything I am and see no faults. I love my pooches.

  6. Happiness. Happiness is something that is worked for. Not just giving to you. I work hard for my happiness and I could be bitter, trust me. Instead I choose happiness and I try hard to always see the cup half full. Sometimes my cup runneth over, however I try to ignore the overflow.

  7. God. My God. Our God. I don't care if you call him God or Jehovah. He is one God and we mostly all worship Him....regardless of the name you call him. Or the religion in which you have chosen to worship Him. Even if you choose to worship Him in the comfort of your own home and not in a church. As long as you worship Him.....it doesn't matter how or where you do it. I have worshipped Him in my car. In the bathroom, in Target. Just worship Him.

This is very inspiring for me to write this down. I need reminders to do better everyday. This certainly puts things in perspective. Try it. You'll see.

Monday, February 16, 2009

And away we don't go....

This past weekend, I was anxiously awaiting the escaping out of my home. I was fit to be tied all week. Just me and my husband, riding in a car, sans the child that cannot stop saying "mom?" all the effing time.


I was even more excited because my husband was tired after working until 3am in the mourn. This meant I could listen to my "Journey" CD without any interruptions besides a snoring husband. Ahhhhh.....

We were going to Kansas City to help a friend move some of her belongings back home. And we were pulling a trailer with our truck. A regular sized truck. No semi. No diesel guzzling truck. Just a 4 wheel drive Chevrolet. Nonetheless....I hate driving this truck because I am vertical challenged. But it was well worth me driving it just to do nothing other then think to myself on the drive down.

I was pretty pumped in the a.m. before we headed south. I eagerly went outside to start the truck and pack our belongings.

I must digress here. For 5 weeks now my hubby has been badgering me to get a new set of keys made for all the vehicles. We only have one key for the truck. I told him "no." over and over because that is just to mundane of a chore for someone of my statue.


I locked the keys in our running truck.


I felt like a shit hole.

So. After 45minutes of the truck running and me pouting on the couch and my hubby laughing and snickering at my dumbness, a tow truck hero unlocked my truck. I promised to get another set of keys made tomorrow. And I instantly set up on star again. Because those wizards can open your doors instantly. So. That means we don't really need that other key but my bossy husband says "Yes.We.Do."

Blah, Blah, Blah.

To make a very long story short....I realized half way to our destination, it was Friday the 13th. Shit.Fuck.Shit. I am overly superstitious. I will drive blocks away from a black cat. Don't judge me!!!!

We hit Omaha, Nebraska and it was a complete white out. Snow.Snow.Snow. Ice.Ice.Ice. And goofy mother effers driving like they are on speed. Not fun. At this point my husband woke up. I was white knuckling the steering wheel and my eyes were set on the road ahead.

Did you know that when you are pulling something behind a truck that it can fish tail or lose control which incidentally, makes a freak like me lose all control of her intestinal track and bladder and closes her eyes, throw her hands in the air and yell hysterically. Not good people. Not good.

I got control again. And then when you try to break, did you know that the trailer you are pulling will actually push you forward, making it much harder to stop. And did you know on ice, this makes a freak like me scream and cry and scream some more. And then the hubby makes "suggestions" and that makes you yell:

"Just Shut.Up. Just shut the hell up. I will cut out your freaking juggler if you don't shut the hell up!"

Not good people. Not good.

And then when you finally make it to your destination, by the grace of God, all hell breaks loose and you realize that some people are down right losers and thief's and goober-booby heads. And then you see such diversity in different neighborhoods of larger cities and you cannot believe your eyes. Just unreal. And you realize that some people are scum. And that the trip down to grab a friends stuff is a waste because the "friend" sold and pawned all of her stuff for money. Which I'm pretty certain was for some crack to stuff up her nose. While her small, innocent children play in the streets. I'm not gonna even explain how much of a freaking crack whore this gal is and how she doesn't deserve kids.


However, the next day I hung with my husband on Valentines Day....went shopping at some very cool places....and had hotel sex. Yes. Hotel Sex. Jealous?


The next Friday the 13th, you will find me in a closet. K?

Monday, February 9, 2009

Picture it.

1. Picture it. Pregnant. Kidney infections.
I was working and had to go to a bachelorette party after my shift. I was 6 months prego and was in a moo-moo dress. I wasn't looking forward to going out however I promised I would and I was already late. Which means I didn't have time to pee before I left. A few minutes later, I was doing 55mph down the interstate and realized that my bladder was going to explode. I tried holding it for a few more miles to the next gas station, but I couldn't do it. I failed. I peed my pants. Luckily, I am a weirdo and whenever I have a dress on, I have to hike it all the way up when I drive. So I only peed in my granny undies and seat. I hate being late. So. I carefully slipped the undies tent off and threw them out the window (shame on me for littering but you never know, a hitch-hiker could have picked them up and used them for a hanky....or their own undies. It could happen!). Fast forward a few hours. The girls were already drunk off of their asses by time I made it there. Did I mention that my fat assed pregnant self was the D.D.? Anyway, at a bar, my one friend decided to lift my skirt. Imagine her surprise and laughs when I was butt ass naked.

The point?.........My friends are bitches.

2. Picture it. Me (single and childless). My friends. A Ford Tempo (bwahahahahaha. A Ford Tempo......LOL) and Pumpkins.

I used to love stealing pumpkins. So. One crazy night me and my friends left the bar (we were NOT drinking.) to take pumpkins away from innocent little children. Yes. I was terrible. Anyway, my friends car worked the best because it had a button that popped the trunk open. You Know. Easy Access. My one friend had some rank gas and it was seeping out of his bunghole. He came running back to the car with the biggest pumpkin I have ever seen and it was so heavy that he was pushing farts out as he huffed and puffed. We popped the trunk, he threw it in the back (which only made the back of the car look like a low rider.) and tried to open the car door. Did I mention that he almost got caught from the parents? Anyway, we could hear him tooting about a block away so we decided he needed to air out. We locked the doors and made him run next to the car for awhile. He hurt something or other in the process. I think he pulled a groin muscle. Hahaha.

The Moral of the Story?........Don't have gas while stealing pumpkins.

3. Picture it. A bar. Me. My cheating boyfriend. Alcohol.

I was dating a man for about a year at this point. Or at least I thought we were dating. Apparently he thought it was okay to do the "horizontal mambo" with other women as well. WRONG! We were out and about one night and I was feeling mighty fine thanks to tequila. His whore other "screw" informed me that she was "seeing" him as well. I approached him, which ironically he was at a table full of girls he was trying to mack on. I asked him if this information was true. He tried to lie. I persisted until he fessed up. At this point, I was being rather loud and we had an audience. After he told me the truth, I popped him in the face. I called him so choice words and walked away with people applauding me. He was humiliated when his posse of girls told him to get the hell away from them and he left the vicinity. Which is a good thing considering I was shooting some more tequila for some more liquid courage. I found out that the chick whore that gave me this information continued to have a "relationship" (read between the lines and take special note of the quotation marks.) for a while after this. He finally broke it off to her and begged for my forgiveness. I refused any sort of "relationship" with him other then friendship. We are still friends to this day. And I remind him occasionally of my punch to his kisser.

Moral of this story?.......Don't fuck with a drunk Firecracker.

4. My daughter was getting bullied when she was in 1st grade. This bully didn't want her to have any other friends and wanted Sheylee all to herself. So. She would tell Sheylee that she was going to hurt her if she talked to any other kid. My daughter was strong, and didn't listen to her. One day, out on the playground, she tried choking my daughter. My girl is tiny. This bully is not the average sized 1st grader. Sheylee didn't have a fighting chance. After Sheylee's other friends got the bully off of her, Sheylee went to go tell the playground teacher. She told Sheylee to stop tattling. My baby girl came home with finger marks on her throat and tears in her eyes. I went to the school, demanded to talk to this playground teacher and informed her that if she ever makes such poor judgements again with my child, it would be her neck she would have to protect. The Principal didn't bother to butt in as she knew I was pissed off. The bully had to see counseling for a year and the teacher won't even look my direction to this day.

The Point?......Mama has a temper when you mess with my Stinky Girl.


Sunday, February 8, 2009

Highs and Lows.

I have been reflecting a lot. Don't worry. Not in a sad way. Just a soap box sorta way. Keep reading if you are as confused as me and I will do my best to explain.

A friend of mine has a sick child. She works full time, is a mom full time and her mind is racing full time. The woman doesn't catch a break. Her down time is consumed with worries of her child(ren) and money.

She is a workaholic. She gives her all to her company. They don't return the favor.

She has to take time off of work quite a bit to get her son to the doctor or miss work when her son is sick or in the hospital. Her job threatens her often. She has been on written warnings about her attendance.

I understand, to a point, her employers position. After all, my husband ran his fathers company for years. It is crucial to have dependable workers. I totally get that. However, my husband was very understanding to circumstances and situations. Never, Never, Ever did he reprimand a employee for taking time off for family. He would have been a total hypocrite had he. Family, in his beautiful eyes, is always first. No Exceptions.

Even though I understand the importance of dependability, I cannot accept that companies don't understand life. Life happens and sometimes it knocks us flat on our asses.

My friend is a testament to this. Trust me when I say that she would rather be working then taking her sick child to the doctor. Or holding his hand in the hospital. Or rubbing his hair when he is throwing up. She didn't chose this life. She deals with it.

How sad is it that she has to feel guilty and ashamed to stay home from work to care for her child(ren)? She is in a constant state of guilt. If she goes to work, she feels guilty for not being there for her son. If she stays home, she feels guilt about not being at work and scared of the consequences.

She cannot leave this company. Most companies are the same. She is stuck. She is beating her head up against a brick wall.

I have been there. Working full time, at a job that barely pays the bills. It is very frustrating.

I was the one who stayed home with our daughter if she was sick. It doesn't make since for me to go to work, making little money, or my husband going to work, making triple of my wages. It isn't rocket science.

I was reprimanded as well. Written warnings. Embarrassment of the manager pulling you aside in front of your co-workers to scold you for being a parent. And as much as you want to show your teeth to them, you cannot. It doesn't do a damn bit of good.

I am lucky enough to be a stay at home mom/wife now. I am a minority. Most families need 2 incomes to survive. And with today's economy, even the stay at home moms are reconsidering their position. Money is tight. Money is essential. Lose. Lose. Situation.

I am concerned for my friend. She is a single mom. Did I mention that? She is enduring more pain and stress then the average person. She is barely treading water at this time. She has family and friends helping her. She isn't alone. Yet she feels complete loneliness.

I stress to her: "Give us this DAY, our DAILY bread."

This to me means that you take one DAy at a time. Each night, you go to sleep. The next day, your slate is clean. New Day. New Beginnings. Sure. We are all putting money away for retirement and college. It is okay to plan for the future. But my motto is: "Worry about yesterday or tomorrow when you are there. Not Today." It may not make sense to you, but it does to me. And I hope like hell she learns from it too.

Prayer. Prayer is a powerful tool. He listens. He doesn't leave you stranded. He will fight for you. He always does. And even though we don't see His will or plans and sometimes it is the complete polar opposite of what you want, He will do what needs to be done. He knows your future. He knows you better then you know you. Faith. Prayer. Patience. Love.

Please bow your heads and pray for the families struggling like my dear sweet friend. Get on bended knee and thank the Good Lord for your blessings. Pray for those who are lost and cannot find their way home. Pray for those who are walking in the dark without a candle. They need you. They need your prayers. And above all. Feel compassion and understanding for people who are in less then desirable lives. Don't judge. Just feel.

*stepping down from the soap box now*

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Some overdue thank yous.

To the Superbowl commercials makers.

Thank you so much for providing entertainment for the 15children that were running rampant through my house on Superbowl Sunday. For a few brief moments, you stopped the kids in their mischievous tracks plus you did the impossible and actually made them quiet while they viewed your commercials.

Their favorite was from Bridgestone Tires that featured no other then Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head. Hilarious.

And better yet, the drunk adults were also momentarily controlled as they were engrossed in the commercials.

I had over 20 adults and 15 kids in my humble home. It was busting at the seams however, it was also bursting with laughter, giggles, screams, yells and fun.

But I very much enjoyed my minutes of sanity brought to me by your commercials. They were not the best ever but nonetheless, they were worthy of the 2 million dollars each company paid. Tell me again why we are in a depression recession and America's economy is in jeopardy? Bygones.

And because I am throwing out well deserved thank yous. I would also like to thank my doctor for prescribing my "happy pills." They saved a lot of hurt feelings and children sitting in time outs.

And thank you to the alcohol manufactures. You are beautiful.


A happy camper.
What are the chances of moving football to the warmer seasons so we can have a Superbowl Party that would allow the children to go outside in non-frigid weather? Just a simple suggestion.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

So Long Life....Heeellllloooo Guitar Hero.

Oh save it. I know Guitar Hero has been around too long for people to care anymore. But me, myself and I are really not that hip and rad. I don't follow fads, because with Katie Holmes rolling her cuffs on her jeans again, I would quite frankly rather spit some Tabasco sauce in my eye. And not because I would have to take the time to "roll" my jeans although that is a big part of it but more so because I think it is uglier then Kid Rock.

The reason I started my "Guitar Hero" infatuation is pure and simple. My husband thinks he is freaking Axl Rose on it. And anything he can do I can do better.

The End.

Or not.

I cannot let that human with a penis do better then me. And right now. He is way better then me. He is at a "medium" stage and I am still failing in the "easy" stage. And I look like a huge seizure when I play. It is disgusting. He looks like a gay member of Gun's and Roses but that is going away from my point.

I have used every excuse as to why I suck hairy balls. Like "My fingers are too short." or "I'm sweating too much." or "My butt crack itched." however, the reality, I am never gonna be a guitar "hero!" *sigh*

My reason for telling you this? Besides the fact that currently I am pouting because he kicked my fat hiney once again, is I haven't been blogging or commenting because of HIM and Guitar Hero. One way or another, I will master this damn game by summer or 2020 . I will miss you while I'm away being a gigantic loser, playing my daughters Christmas present all.damn.day. And this further proves that I need to involve myself in activities. Before my ass needs it's own zip code from lack of exercise. Did I fail to mention that I am such a lazy beast that I don't even stand while playing? Instead, I recline in my couch while eating mass quantities of peanuts. And no...I am not scared of getting salmonella. I laugh in the face of infectious diseases. Hahahahacoughspewpukevomithahaha.

The sad part of this story? I'm almost certain that I am such a blog failure that nobody notices my absence. And in case you didn't know this, blog failure is as disappointing as a lonely old mans hand getting too tired to jack off. That's a let down.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Rat Bastards....

What now? Let me tell ya.

I spent two hours of my life at the bank, filling out papers to dispute fraudulent charges on my account. Well. It's "our" checking account but I do use it the most.

Regardless....I got screwed out of $1200. And I am pissy, pissy Krissy.

The nerve of these corrupted geeks is disgusting. I wanna play kickball with their testecles. If only I knew who they were.

The paperwork was astronomical amounts. We had to wait for a Sheriff to file a police report. I looked like a criminal. I'm pissed, stressed and really, really just miffed. Ahhhh.

I'm having so many anxiety attacks that my hot flashes are in over drive. I'm sweating like a crack addict.

My bank will make good on the money yet I am still worried. What if it turns into Identity Theft? Do you have any idea how hard it is to prove yourself right in those cases. It is grueling and intense and it sucks hairy balls. I know someone who went through it and it took over 5yrs to get it straight.

Yet I sat on my dumb cloud thinking it could never happen to me. Thank God it wasn't identity theft or more money. They could have bled us dry. *sigh*

I'm gonna pass on some valuable information that you MUST do to prevent this from happening to you. It could have been worse. Had we have not had the adequate amount of money in our account, we would have been slammed with overdraft fees too. It could have been doubled the amount. And that money doesn't just reappear back into your account that day or even the next day.

This could happen to you. If you have never listened to me before, just listen to this. Pretty Please?

  • Do not ever hand over your debit card again. For instance. If you are paying for a meal. You put your card in the envelope and the waiter/waitress walks away with it. Think of this. Camera phones. All they have to do is snap a quick picture and just like that, you could be screwed. The possibility of them being nabbed for their crime? Slime to None. It's a easy crime to commit. Either pay in cash, with a check or use a credit card because they monitor those cards much, much more. Discover is the best for feud protection.
  • Try to use cash only. Remember back in the day, when ATM/Debit cards were newer? We all thought it was "safer" to use then cash. In some ways it is. Because how easy would it be to lose your wallet or purse and your cash doesn't have security on it. However, Freud is just as easy to lose money from.
  • Shred everything. Everything. Credit card offers, statements, anything that is thrown away needs to be shredded. It is crazy to think that this will become my life but it is what it is.
  • Use your card on the Internet only when you are 110% sure it is safe and secure. Ebay is very secure. But I am hesitant to even buy online from them anymore either.
  • Never give your card number out over the phone. Never. Even if it is a bill collector. You cannot give that information out any longer. Tell them that you will send them a check or money order. Explain why you refuse to give out your card number. If they don't understand, fuck em. It is not their money that is at potential danger.
  • Review your bank and credit card statements constantly. Your bank will not figure this out for you. You are in control of your own money. Immediately call your bank if anything sends up a red flag to you. That is what they are there for. I am so lucky we caught this when we did. They started out small. And the amount taken out got bigger as they got more greedy.
  • Monitor your credit score as well. Identity theft would be easier to find early by checking your score monthly.

Now go. Go check your bank statements and get busy on shredding.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Tonight...Let's talk about Superbowl Party Anxiety....shall we?

We are hosting the Superbowl Party here, at my abode. The same house that I am completely anal in. The one that I work on cleaning everyday of my sick sadistic life. I'm shitting knives right now. Do you know what that is like? Shitting knives is very painful indeed.

Here's the low down. It's the mass amounts of complete brats children that will be running rampant. I'm talking a mass quantity of other people's children.

There are days that I don't even like my own child in the house because she is filthy. Seriously, I am that anal. No lies.

Last party here, with screaming children in attendance, a non-listening misfit spilled Koolaide on my beige almost white carpet after I repeatedly told her to keep her drink in the kitchen, on the hardwood floors.

Most of the kids that are coming listen NIL. I'm not saying my daughter is a saint. However, she respects other peoples property with the highest regard. She listens because she is soft hearted and fears being yelled at by other adults. I'm not going to go into how she doesn't give a rat's hairy ass what I yell at her. Nope. Not going down that road tonight. I'm already having a stroke because of the pending party. No need to have heart palpitations as well.

I am not shitting you because you are my favorite turd about these children NOT listening. They Do.Not. They are loud, obnoxious, rude, disrespectful and don't have boundaries. They are not welcomed to most homes because of their destructive behavior. And the parents are 100% clueless about this. They are lazy parents. They ignore their behaviors instead of dealing with them. And I am not that kinda parent. And I want to drop-kick their bratty asses.

Scratch that. I don't want to spank them as I fear I wouldn't have the control to stop once I started. They are really that bad.

I have to try and lock my daughters door to her room in fear that they will conquer it once again. Yep. They've done it before. Her door doesn't have a lock on it. I'm not sure how to get around that bygone.

I want to hide anything that could be broken and is sentimental or worth something. This would be every.single.thing.we.own. That is a fail.

I'm praying for nice sunny weather so they can be locked entertained outdoors. At least I don't have to worry about writing on the wall or Koolaide stains on the carpet.

I cannot talk to the parents, because they don't listen. Believe me, we have tried. Tried.Failed.Tried Again.Failed.

I have recruited others and told them that if they see anything in their harms way, to scold them or find me and I will scold them. They are officially activated for duty.

I'm going to bribe the older children to babysit them, which means I will have to sell a kidney to pay them considering the job will be challenging and hard. Harder then they will ever work. But it is a small price to pay.

I'm gonna hire the freaking FBI and have them stand in. Maybe they could lessen the blow to my house. Doubtful.

The anxiety attack will continue until we get through the party and I can visually that my house is still standing. Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

Monday, January 26, 2009

I feel pretty...Oh so pretty....

Last night, we came home very late. We had a full day of visiting family and homework, for once, took the back burner. It felt good to be honest with you. Homework is a thorn in my muffin top. Blah.

So. After leaving to go home about 2 hours later then planned and with more then a hour drive to go, I read my daughter's book to her about Annie Oakley, with a flashlight no less. We arrived home at about 11:30pm. Not good considering we had the daunting homework to finish. I convince my daughter that we will blast through it in the morning and it was better that she go to bed so she isn't cranky and sassy in the morning. Honestly, I cannot handle the cranky-whiny butt attitude in the a.m. any longer without growing gray.

This morning, instead of waking a few moments earlier, we accidentally overslept. My morning homework plan failed miserably. I tossed and turned all night and went to bed well past my bedtime. I was bushed and couldn't pull my pants down to pee let alone do homework. We ate some breakfast and I decided to let my daughter go into school later.

After doing the homework, I quickly showered and dressed. At this point, my eyes began to puff, my nose was stuffed and I broke into hives all from allergies. I quickly swallowed some benedryl, fixed my hair or just ran a brush through it and pushed my girl out the door. Upon arriving to the school I noticed that I put on the wrong color socks and SHOES. Yes. I had on two different pair of tennis shoes.

High Fives all around!

I barely got home with my eyes open. Did I mention that it was snowy and my puffed eyes were having a difficult time focusing because of all the white? And I was so tired. And did I mention that the day before, I had threw my back out something fierce?

And so, I had the wrong colored socks on and two different pairs of tennis shoes, I was doped on benedryl, my eyes looked like I just smoked crack, I had hives and my back was having spasms. Whoopity-Doo....this was going to be a great day.

Can I get a round of applause????

I managed to make it home, noticed my car had a flat, slipped on the ice for the 400th time this winter and screamed in agony. Foul words were rampantly escaping my trashy mouth.

Do you wish you were me yet?

I limped into the house, looking like I either needed a cane or a wheelchair. Nonetheless, I looked like an old blue-hair.

I went straight to bed. But for the life of me, couldn't sleep.

My husband wanted to know if I wanted to run to the DMV to get the plates for the new year with him. Stupidly, I agreed. I never took my shoes off once I got into bed. I know, it is wrong but I was freaking tired and close to tears.

So. I leave with my husband, and realize that I am still wearing my different paired shoes. I shrug and say out loud: "Who freaking gives a rat's ass?" My husband looks at me like I am sprouting horns.

Before we enter the DMV, I take a quick peek in the mirror. Imagine my surprise to see my hair sticking straight up, my mascara down to my chin(s) and I'm missing an earring. I once again yell: "Screw it." My husband understands my words this time as he is looking at me in horror. I limped into the DMV, looking like the hunchback of Notre Dame and Medusa.

I was pretty.

Note. I even braved the grocery store and soon realized that I was not the only one having a bad day. I saw a mom get puked on, in which she simply wiped the chunks off and went on her merry way. I saw a grandma with her skirt tucked into her dress and a whore with a skirt on that could only be described as a tube top used as a skirt.

Here's some funny commercials sent to me via email. It made me smile so it should do wonders for you. :0)