To my dear husband:
If you really don’t want to get me jewelry but really do want to get me something I’ll like, then you can get something for yourself that I will benefit from. To some, this may seem extravagant.
Go into a massage therapy program online. Talk about learning things you can apply in real life right away. I volunteer to be your practice person.
No, you may not have other practice people.
Sweetie, this is addressed to you.
Too many holidays, birthdays, anniversaries have passed since last my finger was decorated with something new (my right hand ring finger). Not that I’m asking flat out for one or more tanzanite rings. Just that I want you to know that I think they are pretty and so does my right hand ring finger. I look great in blue.
It’s been a rough day. My internet has been complaining about me overusing it and went on strike this morning. As far as I can tell, my concession of turning off the computer for 8 hours has gotten it back on the job, but I’m afraid that tomorrow there might be a sick out. If you tried to call me today, I got your message (if you left one). Most of you didn’t call me today, because even though my phone doesn’t work when my internet is down, my email does receive messages left on my voice mail.
I’m not feeling the love. Call me when I’m not home so my email inbox can be filled with you words of love for me.
Never mind the fact that I don’t call you.
I get my jollies from the little things in life.
You may have heard the story about the man who was forced to eat his beard during an argument with neighbors. Maybe you think I thought that was funny.
DO NOT PAINT ME SO CRUEL!
I thought it was funny when the headline at my local online news dispensary read “Man Forced to Eat Bread”.
I didn’t exactly feel sorry for him.
An SUV was stopped in front of me at a light today. I thought I saw the handle on the back move. At first I thought I was imagining it – then I saw it happen again. Being the odd person that I am, I thought, maybe there’s a person trapped in the back trying to get out. Of course this didn’t make sense because they had certainly turned the handle far enough to prove that it was unlocked and they should have been able to open it. Fortunately, the light lasted a bit longer and I had some time to think it over.
And then I saw the actual handle to the back of the car – not at all the thing that had been rotating back and forth at regular intervals.
Then it dawned on me – this was a windshield wiper – broken off- and turned on. Who knows how long that thing has been running. Maybe every time they turn on the car, the wiper turns on. Maybe it’s been years.
My bear shaped container of maple syrup has been bad and must stand in the corner.
It’s a joy being able to help my kids with their math homework. I feel a bit snotty about it, too. I know for a fact that there are parents out there who are out of their depth with 4th grade math. These are often college graduates that can’t spare the time to figure out if their kids’ homework is right or wrong. There’s never going to be a time when my kids bring home their math and I can’t help them. Even if they’re learning to add starting on the left and working to the right (which is INSANITY and UNNATURAL).
I like to call them ideots. (the parents, not my kids)
What do you mean I spelled that word wrong? Well what do you expect, I can’t spell and I’m too old to use spell check.
My husband’s tooth keeps falling out.
I know. You’re thinking that this is something that should have been taken care of a while ago if it KEEPS falling out. But the finest dentists around (the ones available on Sunday) just keep gluing it back in and saying that if it falls out again, they’ll do something more permanent. It’s free to get it glued back in so we don’t have a real problem with this plan.
Did I forget to mention that this is a gold overlay?
I think I did which makes this just a tiny bit less weird.
Now, I don’t want him to lose the tooth because the price of gold is going up and we’ve got out own little piece of gold bullion socked away in his mouth. I want him to wait until the price of gold tops out and them sell it to pay for the crown he’s going to need. He says, no matter what he’s getting a crown the next time it falls out.
I have no heart, but he has no financial sense.
I’m bored. What’s the emoticon for that?
The most inspiring thing I can think of to do at this moment is go to Target and buy dryer sheets. The problem is, I could probably think of a bunch of more interesting things to do but all of those come with financial guilt. Or parenting guilt. Or both.
For example: I could go for a car trip – I love those. BAM! Financial guilt – don’t want to spend the money on gas.
Another example: Take my daughter to a movie. BAM! Financial guilt mixed with parental guilt. Movies cost money and I could just wait for it to come out on DVD. Also, should I be taking a 3 year old to the movies when I can have her watching PBS at home?
I don’t even bother to mention that every time I get in the car I feel environmental guilt even though I did buy the most fuel efficient car I could find that seats 6 and isn’t and SUV. I’ve actually wasted part of my life contemplating whether or not it would be more environmentally beneficial to have two cars that are super fuel efficient (35mpg still) to transport us or if one car is the way to go. I’ll never get those moments back.
Did I mention I sometimes feel guilt about feeling guilty? I’m so screwed up.
The promises of rain were greatly exaggerated – by about 70%. I make that based on the following faulty logic: The chance of rain was listed at 70% and there was no rain so they were off by about 70%.
Raise your hand if that sounded like a good argument to you…..
Ah, you poor, mathematically illiterate fools. I can convince you of anything.
OMG!!!! An actual comment from an actual person. For my loyal readers (hey, mom) you may recall a recent post entitled “Food for Thought”. An actual person posted a comment!!!! (thanks, sis) Of course she’s demanding proof of the veracity of my story. Well here it is:
Turns out I AM edible.
My sweet webmaster has removed the filter on the spam and, sure enough, we’re getting it again. Ladies and gentlemen, I can’t describe the euphoria I’m feeling. I get to see the creme de la creme of spam coming through.
Sure there hasn’t been much yet, but I’ve got one for you:
“…
This publish may perhaps be pointed out on Twitter by someone. really?…”
The dot dot dots belong to the spam machine. Because there was a moment (right after it decided to comment and before it thought of something to type) in which it didn’t want me to think I was being ignored. Even though I wouldn’t have seen anything till it hit post because it wasn’t IMing me. But a machine can’t think as logically as I can, so it must be forgiven for this punctuation faux pas.
I’m more interested in the web address that is included – myfonduepot.com. I’m not going to be the one who gets burned by going there and finding out its a website about how good pot is after being dipped in cheese. So you, my dear readers, may go to the site and then let me know. Of course I’ll be forced to turn you in to the police for your freaky fetish – watching pot being dipped in cheese oh… so… slowly.
It’s probably a good thing no humans comment – I’d be really embarrassed to find out that someone actually does read this blog after I’ve just written that. Sure I’m laughing my but off, but I just created a fetish for people to have now – pot porn.
I’m throwing caution to the wind and reminding you that if you are a human and posting a comment, remember to use the password (artichoke) in your post so that I don’t trash you too.
My glasses dismantled themselves this morning while I was trying to clean the lenses. I was on my way out the door and didn’t have time to reassemble them so I grabbed my backup pair and now – 14 hours later – I am finally getting over the nausea induced by wearing an 8 year old eye glass prescription. I’m also getting over the embarrassment of having to wear a pair of glasses that garnered both more painful truths and more lies than I have ever heard uttered toward me in a single day.
“You look like Harry Potter” (True – except with orange rimmed glasses.)
“New glasses! They look great!” (TOTAL lie – we’re talking about ORANGE RIMMED GLASSES here).
At least it has taught me the character of those around me.
My son is a writing genius. He managed to incorporate the ancient folklore of ‘Cinderella’ and the modern tale of ‘Back to the Future’. Although quite good his real genius lies in his observation in writing about time travel. “Mom”, he said “Writing about time travel can be REALLY confusing.” I think this very sentiment has been expressed by others (including Captain Janeway).
OOOOOOOOOOOOO. Good back scratch. My son is finally old enough to give a good back scratch. All I need to do is come up with the proper bribe and a well placed clock that he can watch till the 15 minutes of required scratching time is up. Top that back scratch off with the fact that it’s Spring Break for almost all of us and you’ve (and by ‘you’ I mean ‘I’) practically reached Nirvana.
My three-year-old (the cutest little girl in the world) recently told my wife that she wanted to marry Jesus. If that’s not cute enough for you, her reasons were so that she could share a pillow with Jesus and dance with Jesus. But of course, then she had to wonder if she and Jesus were jumping up and down on her bed, what would happen if he hit his head on the ceiling fan since he’s much taller than she is. Would he cry?
Doesn’t get much cuter than that. Does it?
Don’t blame me if all my posts seem to be about my kids lately. I haven’t talked about them in a while and I’ve got some real cuties and I’ve lost the will to resist telling inane stories that no one who doesn’t know them will really care about. Actually I know you will because they are just SO CUUUUTE!!!!
My older daughter finds coins pretty frequently. She picks them up and says “It’s my lucky day!” The fact that she’s 3 is what makes this funny. The thing is, she also loses them pretty frequently too and it has become apparent that she thinks coins are called ‘lucky days’ because then she will say, “Where’s my lucky day?”
So my mom and dad were visiting for Thanksgiving and mom was looking through our photo album from a recent trip to Disneyland with my older kids and talking about the pictures. While they were talking about the La Brea Tar Pits, my youngest (a non-talker) tooled into the boys room and brought out a book — about dinosaurs. What a humorous coincidence we thought.
Then they were talking about our time at the beach and the pretty waves. The Young One left and came back with a Dora at the Beach book. Shock!! Surprise!! This could still be a coincidence.
Then they started talking about Disneyland. Young One left and came backwith a Cinderella book. No Way!! She didn’t even seem to be paying any attention to them talking about pictures and she didn’t go over to look at the pictures.
After that she brought out all the Winnie the Pooh books she could find.
It was really funny. (for us anyway)
Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers.
Today is a day to reflect on all the joys of motherhood and to let your children tell you how special you are.
As a nod to Hallmark, the creator of this holiday, I added a little ‘THANK YOU’ money to their coffers by buying a card for my mom. After all, without them (Hallmark, not moms) this day wouldn’t be possible. It almost makes me want to send them a ‘THANK YOU’ card.
Of course in about a month I’m going to want to send them a ‘GO TO #@$!’ card since it’ll be Father’s Day and I’ll have no idea what to get my husband. I mean, I don’t know what THE KIDS will get my husband. After which comes our anniversary. Then my mom’s, sister’s and daughter’s birthdays. Good thing July gives us an extra payday.
There are so many times when I really must give a gift, it leaves few days during the year when I can give a gift for no reason. Not enough time passes between the days when gifts should be given for giving a ‘no reason’ gift to feel like anything but extravagance. It seems more like a gift you bought for the previous occasion that you forgot about and found in the back of the closet.
Uh, but yeah, happy mother’s day. That was my point all along.
In my family we have a rule – no holding a grudge for more than 10 years. You’d think that it would be easy to just get over it (whatever ‘it’ was) in less than 10 years but in my family, we can hold a grudge like nobody’s business. When you realize someone is holding something against you from before you can even remember stuff, it’s time to make a rule like this for your family.
Every one deserves the opportunity to nurse a grudge for a while. Especially if that grudge is for something really bad (like bringing tofu into the house, cutting you with their toe or making you wear braces) but eventually it’s just healthier for the grudge holder to let it go. I mean we’re all getting on in years and this stuff could be bad for our blood pressure.
So this year, I’m going to let go the ‘decided to not honor birthdays and mine was the first’ grudge and the ‘didn’t show up for my wedding’ grudge. I think I’m even doing it a little early on that one but I was more upset by the extenuating circumstances than the act itself. I’m getting rid of the ‘bad mouthed me in the blog before I knew what a blog was’ grudge and the ‘wouldn’t share her blanket with me’ grudge (that one is WELL overdue but it’s been awhile since I cleaned ‘grudge house’ so to speak).
I’m please to say that, though I still hold my ‘day before my daughter’s birth’ grudge, I’ve made great strides towards letting that one go. That’s an ugly, ugly one that eats at me in the worst way and I really WANT to be rid of it as soon as possible.
The thing about grudges is that you aren’t doing it right unless the person you’re holding it against doesn’t know about it. I like to do mine right, so the grudges mentioned here are mostly unknown to the object of the grudge. Except they might recognize themselves here since I haven’t been particularly vague with my grudge names. But since I no longer hold the grudge, how can the possibly be offended?
I better make a new rule now: “No holding a grudge for someone holding a grudge.”
There, that should cover me.
Let me just add, “If you break the preceding rule and hold a grudge for someone holding a grudge, your grudge may only have a half life of the duration allowed for the grudge upon which you base your grudge.”
There. Ironclad.