sad

it's the saturday before my fortieth. i am sitting on my bed with my dog. my husband is drunk. it is 6:30 p.m. going out to dinner would have been nice.

Who Am I Kidding

I doubt I am ever going to get this writing daily thing down pat. Hell, I am really only doing it for myself so I am really only failing me and I can't lie, not plunking down the inner thoughts of my brain in not the highest priority on my list. However lately I have had a lot on my mind. I really want to go back to school to go into nursing, not just any nursing but hospice nursing. Over the course of my life I have spent a fair amount of time with cancer stricken relatives at the end of their days and have felt blessed to be able to be with them, to help them live their final days without suffering - not just to help them die and to be a comfort for my other family members.

I have always wanted to "do something" with my life. When I first went away to school I was set on a political science degree to be followed up with the letters J.D. behind my name a few years later and a career in international law. Clerical error sent those plans and a full ride scholarship up in smoke. I took the easy way out and went on doing what I knew best ... foodservice and a Restaurant Management degree. As usual, I excelled in school, winning a prestigious educational award from the biggest industry trade group, leading the school's club to successful auctions and fundraisers, A average with three jobs but I.Fell.In.Love. Not to say I wouldn't do the same thing again as I am still married to my spouse but would I have thought about some of the job offers after graduating? HELL YES! Instead I went back for a bachelor's degree in education because I had always thought about teaching and wanting to "make a difference." My in-laws agreed to pay my tuition because they did not want their son to have an "uneducated" wife. I guess the Associates Degree was worth nothing? I got most of the way through but unfortunately our advisors told us if we wanted to be English teachers in our town at that point in time we had two choices, 1. head to the inner city (not an option for a young 20, white, blond girl) or 2. get a job at Walmart. So my husband and I spoke and I changed my major to business and would continue working for our business.

Beware any free gift! As soon as I had diploma in hand my mother-in-law immediately began harassing me about getting a job outside of our business. Apparently I sold my soul for a piece of paper. I threw the fucker away. It was bad enough knowing I earned it and could not return it. (Just last year, almost a decade after she died my husband returned it to me, bless him for dumpster diving - literally - but I still cannot stand the sight of it.) I ended up going to work for a Monster Wall Street Corporation until some family problems on my husband's side came to be and I was the only one was "dispensible" and became available. Poetic justice is not sweet, fun or kind. It is sad and it sucks.

Long story boring ending, I ended up having some very serious health issues as well but have been in remission for the past year and don't think there is any chance of any more real problems as long as I stick to the diet and health regime I am currently following so it is my time to finally get that real diploma that belongs to me, that I can proudly display, that I can share with the world by "doing something." I like to joke I am cranky and hate the world but in all honesty, I live with all of my heart and love with all of my heart and just cannot wait to give with all of my heart.

Following are the lyrics to a Lady Antebellum song called "I Was Here," this is how I want to live my life.

You will notice me
I’ll be leaving my mark
Like initials carved in an old oak tree
You wait and see

Maybe I’ll write like Twain wrote
Maybe I’ll paint like Van Gogh
Cure the common cold… I don’t know
But I’m ready to start ‘cause I know in my heart

Chorus:
I wanna do something that matters
Say something different
Something that sets the whole world on its ear
Wanna do something better
With the time I’ve been given
I wanna try
To touch a few hearts in this life
And leave nothing less than something that says
I was here

I will prove you wrong
If you think I’m all talk
You’re in for a shock ‘cause this dreams too strong
Before too long

Maybe I’ll compose symphonies
Maybe I’ll fight for world peace
‘Cause I know it’s my destiny
to leave more than a trace of myself in this place

Whoopsy

Well, I have not managed to post daily as was my original goal in the countdown to forty but I have continued to purge my house daily - even if it is only a small drawer just to keep the momentum going. I wish I were better at sitting down at the keyboard and getting my thoughts written down as I am constantly "writing" in my head throughout the day. Maybe I should invest in a better "Talk and Type" program than I currently own and go from there. My speak to text program is the funniest ... I have sent some doozies that make my friends think I am drunk driving and texting simultaneoulsly.

This past week I really have been focusing on gratitude. I really am so thankful for my close friends and family. As this stupid milestone birthday approaches I cannot think of one single gift I could ask for other than the continued companionship and love from those I love and adore. It doesn't have to be my best friends, or 3AM friends as I like to call them - you know ... the first ones you call when a disaster hits at 3AM. You might not see them every day, week or year but you know damn well they are the ones who mean the most. I just cherish the fact I am not lonely. I have no problems being alone, in fact there are plenty of times when I like being alone, but I am not lonely.

There are many many more things for which I am grateful but that is for another day ... I hope you have a good week and I hope I manage to post again as I am at the halfway point!
I am now hoping if I manage to post fourteen times I will have managed to have done it half of the time?!?! Good grief Charlie Brown ...

Fail ... but not Epic.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. I meant to write yesterday. I even wrote in my head yesterday. I could have probably taken the emails I exchanged with my cousin and posted them and it could have counted as writing because they were some funny stuff. In fact, if they continue tomorrow - they just might be my fodder for Friday depending on how many cocktails lunch, happy hour and my niece's graduation force into my system.

So I failed. But an epic failure? I think not. Is anyone else out there in Internetland is as irritated with me with the overuse of the word epic these days? Webster's defines epic as: a : extending beyond the usual or ordinary especially in size or scope I know I sound like a grouchy old man with his trousers pulled up over his stomach and nose hairs growing down to his top lip when I state this but epic is supposed to used for special occasions, you know - like that big damn flood when Noah built the Ark or a certain movie when Miss Scarlett said "Tomorrow is always another day."

If everything is so epic now what word are we going to use to describe something epic when it really is epic? Huh? Riddle me that one all of you epic freaks? Will the new word be marvelous, majestic, intrepid, breathtaking, colossal, stellar? Nope, nope, nope and so on? That list sounding pretty stupid? Yup. Because epic was one of the best superlatives and now it has been wasted. Wasted because some humdrum daily events have to sound better than they were. Your company softball game was epic? Doubtful. Your boss sleeping with your co-worker in the dugout while his wife and kids are sitting right above the dugout during the company softball game? Epic. You going to a bachelor party? So what? And how many other men have taken part in this ritual? You attending George "I am never getting married" Clooney's bachelor party? Fucking Epic (and you had better bring back photos if you know better. They will get you laid - married and single men!) Your kid dancing in a recital at school? Spare us. Your kid dancing the lead of a Joffrey Ballet Production - epic. Get the idea. Save epic. Please. Please put it back on the shelf and only use it for those special times when it is really needed. Because I know when I die and want my friends to use what's left of my money to have a kick ass party I am pretty sure that term is still going to be around, are you going to be able to have an epic party or will the word be dead and buried before you are?

Because I have to post

I spent somewhere between five and six hours cleaning the crap out of my master bathroom today. Six fucking Hefty bags of shit. I am exhausted. But I keep repeating ... "I am not a hoarder, I am not a hoarder, I am not a hoarder."

Do yourselves a favor right now. If you buy something and you a) do not like it or b) it does not work to your satisfaction but is not dysfunctional - THROW THE SHIT OUT IMMEDIATELY! You will never use it, it will take up space and you will get in the habit of keeping fucking everything that might be used someday. (By the way - I am still not a hoarder.)

I cannot imagine how many thousands of dollars of crap I have been throwing because I needed it or because it was on sale (stacks and stacks of expired crap.) No more of that shit for me, if I need it - I will go buy it. Period. I have heard there is a new television show called "Extreme Couponing" where people buy 400 jars of pickles, 80 jars of mayo, 68 boxes of Tide and the such but end up spending $12.45 because they clipped coupons and watched store deals. You know what? Who the fuck needs 80 jars of mayo at once besides a school, hospital or nursing home? I know a mother of 2, 4 or 6 certainly does not. But - AHA - a hoarder does! Yes, these extreme couponers are nothing more than organized hoarders. They hoard all the food, line it up all pretty on shelves (which may or may not be in home additions due to their couponing addiction) and call it saving money. Riddle me this but if you spend 60 hours a week "saving" money buying crap you don't need, when do you have time to work or have a real social life? See ... it's Hoarding 201 - Hiding in Public.

Tomorrow is a nice break from housework and purging. Well, errands during the day but the Cardinals' game tomorrow night with girlfriends. The last game we tried to attend brought a tornado that hit the airport ... lightning really can't hit twice, right?

Bad Hair Life

I have been on this massive house purge. We are talking way beyond the traditional spring cleaning. This crapbin we call a house was starting to look awfully familiar when channel surfing seeing "Hoarders" pop up on the screen. Well, one of the few fun things in the tedious chore of emptying out closet after closet and drawer after drawer in room after room is finding old photos of myself and friends from over the years.

Before I get to the gist of this post I must mention, clothing from the 1970's sucked. It should never come back into style. Period. I don't care what "THEY" say about retro being cool. The colors were not harvest gold, avocado and tangerine; they were pee yellow, puke green and burnt orange. The plaids were ugly, the fabrics never wore out but they had a good chance of melting near an open flame, bell bottoms tripped us and we looked stupid. At least we can blame our parents for dressing us like crap the first go around - if anyone buys that shit this time ... well, you deserve to look like a moron. But I digress.

As I have been looking at decades of photos I have noticed a trend about myself. I have pretty much lived a freaking bad hair life and I have the Kodak moments to prove it my friends! The first recorded moments show me bald until the age of two and when my hair decided to appear it looked like a new lawn trying to grow ... little tufts here and there all nilly willy.

The younger years show a kid with either scraggly hair always in my face or a super boyish crop due to a mother fed up with a kid screaming and crying about tangles. I would not recommend either look for a young lady. Actually, I would not recommend either look for a human being. If I could figure out my scanner I still would not be posting photos of myself in this hideous state. Yes, that freaking bad.

Then came the 1980's. Oh my. It was big. It was wide. It was gelled, moussed, hairsprayed, teased and dried within and inch of its life. It did not move. It hurt other people if the touched it. I quite possibly could have named it and claimed it on my taxes. Did I mention it was big?

With the 1990's came marriage and responsibility and "mom" hair. Need I say more? It was short, efficient and fucking ugly. Then of course came the "I need to grow my hair out one more time because I need to" look. Oh it brought back my days of youth. It looked just as crappy and it was still always in my face. Only this time I had to try to make it look nice because "grown-ups" just can't get away with that ratty playground look (other than I still refuse to give up my Chuck Taylor high top addiction!)

My current bad hair style is the chin length bob because my friends are humoring me and saying it looks good. My only saving grace in all of this over the years - a great baseball cap collection that hides most of the bad hair days and a husband that does not mind having a tomboy for a wife.

Countdown to 40

OK, I have thirty days until I turn forty. I have obviously not written anything in ages. I have written a million posts in my head but just never managed to get anything to flow from my brain to the keyboard. For the next thirty days I am going to post something each and every day, no matter how mundane, just to prove I can accomplish one last goal before this goofy milestone birthday.

I get the whole "OH" birthday thing. I really do. But honestly, for me, on the whole, this is just another day coming heading my way. Not trying to sound hokey but I really celebrate the ability just to be with loved ones everyday - not just one day a year and certainly not just one day a decade! In fact I posted this on The Twitter last month, "Sometimes a couple hours with good friends is better than the longest vacation #thankfulforthelittlegreatthings" and I promise you ... the state of my house shows how often I am lucky enough to spend time with friends!

The great house purge will continue over the next month as well. I am tired of living in a house full of crap. Hopefully the "Scary Room" will finally be my dream home office. Now THAT will be the real milestone in this girl's life!

Vacuuimng Out the Cobwebs

I have the coolest vacuum. It has a little stoplight system on it that lets me know when the carpet is still dirty and it gives me a green light when it is good to move on to a new area. Well, with Gabby the Wonderdog I have a lot of stoplights waiting for it to suck up dog hair thus a lot of time to think of random useless shit. Here is a sampling of what was floating through my brain this morning - I am hoping something might become fodder for future writing as I have been in a big funk lately. My journal looks like that of a serial killer but nothing I would put out there for the world to see.

* Holy crap my carpets are filthy!

* There is nothing like a John Hughes movie to take away any adult self-respect and make me feel like misfit teenager I was.

* How is it two siblings can come from the same parents and be so freaking different????

* If someone you love lies to you with small lies, how long before they start telling whoppers?

* Seriously, I have to empty the dirt container ALREADY!

* How bad is the acne epidemic in Hollywood that everyone seems to be using ProActive?

* I really should workout today but since this vacuuming is taking over 30 minutes, I think this will count. Plus - I am breaking a sweat.

* Bud Select, Bud Select, Bud Select ... when I finish this all I have to do is clean the kitchen, empty the dishwasher, empty the trash and I get Bud Selects at the beach! Keep working girl.

* How much shit will I get in if I tell the top 5 people on my "Go Fuck Yourself" List to "go fuck themselves?" Would it be worth it?

* The dirt cup again, REALLY?

* I really need to fix my iPods. Soon.

* Crap - laundry before the beach too.

* A trip to the grocery store would not be a bad idea. The two packs of tuna keep staring at me in the cabinet and I keep staring back. They are going to win if I don't go soon.

* I am a crappy friend. I am so bad about returning e-mails. I really hope my friends know I am thinking about them. This is one time the Thought Police would actually be good.

* I would not complain about a trip to Nordstroms one of these days :)

* I live at the beach yet I hate sand. What is wrong with me?

* Am I the only moron that has a million problems with iTunes?

* How can you get sucked into 12 hours of Lifetime movies in one day?

* Seriously, the dust cup is fucking full AGAIN? I am getting Gabby shaved ASAP!

* I know Verizon has the technology already - just introduce the damn iPhone already.

* Can I vacuum with a Bud Select and how big of a drunk will I be if I am cleaning with a beer before noon? It really is drink o'clock somewhere ...

* Dammit! That hurts when I ram the vacuum over my foot and into my baby toe. I think that means I need a Bud Select for medicinal purposes.

* How come they don't make the cords longer on vacuums? Really, they know you are going to vacuum multiple rooms - just make the damn things longer for pete's sake!

* Why do drivers from Canada suck so bad? Seriously. I even vacation in Canada once a summer and they suck in Canada. Do they even give them a driving test to get a license? Food for thought?

* I hate the Cubs.

* This dust cup thing sucks the big one. And my dog needs to go to the groomers. And I need a Bud Select.

* LAST ROOM!!!! Guest Room - used the least! Should not take long.

* Really Gabby, must you sleep in here while we are gone? The left side of the guest bed is hair central. Thanks. Thanks. A. Lot. Watching the vacuum with its red and green lights is like watching traffic on Michigan Avenue in Chicago. Stop. Go. Stop. Go. I love my dog. I love my dog. I love my dog.

* GREEN LIGHT GO!

Happy weekend all. I am headed to the beach for a nice iced tea and companionship of friends. Enjoy. Have a few cold tasty Bud Selects if you get a chance.

Why I Still Love Aiports (Or the Ultimate Viewing of True Human Behavior)

So, I get to the airport on time, park the car, get to the security line and THEN the fun starts with the asshat who is trying to take a duffel bag the size of dorm fridge through with FULL SIZE bottles of EVERYTHING. Uh yeah buddy, because those signs all over the airport , in the security line and at the checkpoint obviously did not apply to you today; thousands of others but not you. But good catch on emptying your pockets and removing your shoes MENSA boy. And I am sure you all are stunned who is cranky when a certain bag has to be run through three more times. I am pretty sure his pocket knife and brass knuckles were goners too. Just a wild guess. The guy behind me in the security line did have a great idea. To fly you have to pass a test, like the written part of a drivers test. If you pass you get a sticker on your Passport, license or ID and if not you have to keep taking the test until you are competent in what you need to know to fly. It sure would make the lines zip right along!

Anyhoo -after boarding my favorite mode of transport (a prop job) a mere 22 minutes later we were in Miami and I now had the fun anticipation of a four hour layover. This was way too much time to leave me a) alone with my thoughts b) in my fragile state of being a new (3 month) non smoker and c) on Xanax for flying fear and Soma for a bad back. Oh Shit!!! The Thought Police had a field day with me, I am sure upon trial and conviction I now have several life and death sentences. Allow me to give you some examples:

Hey foreign visitors - when you are in the freaking states, not only do you drive on our sides of the road but you walk on the corresponding sides too. Get it right. And yes - I will continue to walk right into you. You are on my side of the corridor.

Don't ask me what time it is - especially in another language or by pointing at your wrist! Your cell phone you are yakking on has a clock, look at it you fool. Oh - and I know enough basic French and Spanish to ask the time when I am in a foreign country. It is not my job to speak your language.

Ma'am those leggings do not flatter your ass or your camel toe even if they are black. Sorry.

I did notice one airline seemingly having "Tranny Flight Attendant" Day. If not these people I saw were celebrating "Let Your Three Year Old Daughter Do Your Hair and Make Up" Day. Wow! I would have taken photos off my phone had it not been so extremely obvious.

Now we all know there are only three way where I really love children. 1. When they are drugged. 2. When they are asleep (usually a residual from the drugs.) 3. When they are behind the glass in zoos. Well I now know something that makes me love wide awake sugar high kids and here is my advice for their owners -
DRUG YOUR FREAKING YAPPY ASS DOGS AND LEAVE THEM IN THEIR CARRIERS THAT COST AS MUCH AS MY CAR PAYMENT!!!
No, I don't find it cute when your hairless rat with epilepsy chews on my shoestrings nor when it barks for two hours straight. Go back out through security, take it for a walk, hell - call an exterminator for all I care but make it GO AWAY!

So, to get away from the the hairless yappy rat I decide to take a walk. Smart move as I encounter "The Lovebirds." You know the duo. The ones who obviously just came from getting married on a Wednesday morning by the Justice of the Peace. Princess Skank-a-Lot in her Daisy Dukes, platform heels and tank top on a 60 degree day (Mom must be proud) and Prince Pimp-Her-Out in his wife beater and shorts about two inches off the ground who are walking with their hands in each others' back pockets while inching along at a mere two steps a minute. How about moving along instead of blocking the entire concourse and see if you can figure out how to shoot for the Mile High Club instead? Oh wait ... that would involve figuring out when to leave for the bathroom when the plane in exactly one mile high in the air, right? Little too much math for you two. Nevermind.

And just a few more ponderings:

Small children should never be given their own luggage. Period.

There are large numbers of people who use the restroom who do not wash their hands afterward - including people in foodservice preparation. Tasty, huh?

It never hurts to be polite to ANY service employee - even if they are kind of grouchy to you at first, etc. They put up with more awful travelers every single day than we could ever imagine. Just maybe if a few of us could say "please" and "thank you" instead of "I want" and "give me" and "get me," things would go a whole lot smoother. Airport workers and airline employees tend to be ranked as some of the most unfriendly ... maybe we the customers can see how we can change this!

Most of all ... airport traveling is NOT ALL ABOUT YOU! It is about the space around you. Treat your space - sort of like the inside of your car. Keep it self contained, keep the kiddos in it, keep your stuff in it, clean it up (this is where I am quite guilty of not cleaning) and if you want to invite someone in for a ride by all means do so. If not ... sit down, keep your music quiet, stay in your space and wait for your flight.

That's my cranky layover view and I'm sticking to it.

The South Has Risen Again!

After the success of The Mafioso's of New Jersey I wasn't sure Bravo had it in them to comeback so soon with the amazing hot mess that is the second season of the Skanks of Atlanta. Wow. The true housewives of Atlanta are definitely shuddering at the Junior League over chardonnays and grilled chicken salads - dressing on the side of course. If you are ready for some catching up pour yourself a 'Co Cola as they do in the South and have yourself a read:

It seems as if there has been a lot of downsizing this season. Three smaller homes for these women. Sheree's for her ex not making mortgage payments, Nene's for according to Kim - Greg's financial problems and Kim herself (while it was not shown) has been booted from the townhouse Big Poppa had set her up in. Really Sheree, you seriously did not know your ex was missing mortgage payments? No phone calls to you? No letters in the mail? No e-mails? You claim to be such a savvy business woman but you end up with an eviction notice? One word for you. Bullshit. I know if I am half a minute late with my Discover payment they are hounding me from all directions to pay up or they are going to take my first born, you knew those payments were not getting paid and you just did not care. As for Nene and Greg, going on Kim's word is as smart as asking Jennifer Aniston for dating advice but several internet sites during the hiatus have mentioned the same thing. While the Leeks' new "shack" is smaller I also think it is much classier and less ostentatious. Good move there. I just can't wait to see the finished product after Nene and Dwight get through decorating it ... There is some design show out there with Dwight's name on it - there is a new gay boy in town! I imagine Kim's new digs will be the typical white trash setting we have come to expect. You can take the girl out of the trailer but you can't take the trailer out of the girl!

Since Sheree's financial situation has already been brought up why is the dumb bitch spend a shitload of cash on her divorce - oh excuse me - INDEPENDENCE party? First you idiot, you are not independent of your ex, that is why you were evicted from your home. YOU COULD NOT AFFORD IT!!! Second, when Nene asked if you got your "7 figure settlement," you claimed on paper only and then said you "needed the money." Again, if you NEED the money - you are not independent. Third, are there really enough people who like you that will come to a party celebrating you? Maybe if you could come in on the helicopter and say you fell out of it to a stunning death or it crashed onto you after it dropped you off people would explode into spontaneous applause and cheers for you but otherwise woman I just don't see it happening anytime soon. Plus your being carried in Cleopatra style is nothing more than a rip-off of the movie "Coming to America." Which leads me to the subject of party planner Anthony - he should know shit like this. At least that what was running through my mind during their initial meeting. He seemed kind of arrogant and glib - not two of my favorite traits. After all, he is a professional party planner and people do expect the wild and unexpected, especially in Atlanta with the extremely hot hip hop scene of the past decade or so. But after the phone call when he hung up on her I put my on spin on the situation ... with editing I figured she had to have stalked him about 300 times and he was just fed up. Just a side note here -as she was bitching to her hair stylist did anyone else notice how badly her hair was smoking every time he used the flat iron? She was like a fuming dragon. Too funny. The office smack down was reminiscent of a Dynasty battle between Krystal and Alexis, Anthony even throwing in a "your mama." I cannot wait to see how this turns out. Sheree showed her true colors here and all that glitters is truly not gold. Anthony certainly was not professional and he looks like shit on T.V. promoting his business but I have a strong suspicion he would do it all over again after dealing with the SheDevil. He could team up with Dwight if business drops off because of the incident. Interior design/party planning/WWF fighting/personal shoppers.

I love Nene but instead of bed hopping she is the consummate friend hopper and I hope Lisa gets this since Lisa is the self proclaimed "nice one." Not only did Lisa get a new neighbor but it seems a new best friend as well. I wonder how this will bode for the newly unemployed Mr. Lisa who wants to spend time with his wife getting her pregnant. Not playing nicely with Nene is a no no, don't you know? Seeing Lisa, Ed and E.J. is always cute as they are the most normal of this group and I loved when Lisa was trying on the dress and Ed was her human bra! I have a funny feeling that we are not going to see her knocked up anytime soon ... she just does not seem too hip to the idea and Ed is way too big of a kid himself. Maybe if he gets picked up by another NFL team but not until then. Back to friend hopper Nene, the big reconciliation with the SheDevil. All I can say is it's about damn time but did NeNe really need to have Sheree apologize three times and try to force her to cry? Hey dumb shit ... do you want to start the feud all over again? LET IT GO ALREADY! Speaking of reconciliations - NeNe and Kim are supposed to have a glass of wine to clear the air. Yeah - as clear as the air after Chernobyl. Nor the idea brought up at Nicey Nash's party of NeNe, Sheree and Lisa meeting with Kim together. Yes and Sarah Palin, Hillary Clinton, John McCain and Barack Obama are all going to have a nice weekend of camping. You betcha.

Kim, I didn't like you last season, I still don't like you this season. In fact I despise you this season. Is it possible you seem even more worthless? So your visit to your psychic tells you of a possible child, a possible business venture, you are adrift from friends, your kids should be your priority and your married lover still wants you. Your reaction was you need to take your birth control pills and antidepressants, avoid Nene and Sheree, hug the girls and giggle about Big Poppa. You stupid stupid stupid skank. Anyone who watches the show could tell you the exact same thing. Except being the wonderful psychic I am, combine the kid with Big Poppa and that is your business venture ... child support! See how smart I am. You fucking moron. But nope, your big idea is to get into wigs for white women. Let me give you a tip - WHITE WOMEN DO NOT WEAR WIGS UNLESS THEY GO BALD! It is not part of our culture you dolt. Just because you think you are African-American, the majority of white women do not they are. And your line about not needing to know how to do any work because you will hire someone to do it just irked me to my inner core. If I ever see you in person, I will slap you silly. Count on it.

I am digging this Kandi chick so far. She seems like she has a lot that she can bring to the show and seems to have a good head on her shoulders. I liked the line about not buying diamonds but property instead. I just have a feeling she is going to be the one that calls "bullshit" when she sees it EXCEPT when it comes to her kid. Her being friends with Lisa is also going to show us a fun side of Lisa we've never seen. Hearing Lisa say she didn't want to be the sad boring vagina was priceless. I had never really realized before this episode but Lisa was really a "fringe" housewife not being a close friend to any of the others. I absolutely cannot wait until Kandi calls out Kim on the whole Dallas Austin record deal! It will make my day...

Until next week my friends, I will be working on my ODE TO A SHEDEVIL ... what will you be doing?

p.s. a great website to check out for latest news on all of the skanks is: www.realfauxhousewives.com

It's Been a While

Hum ... it goes without saying I have been more useless than ever since I have not posted since the end of April. Well, useless housewives tend to do even less when summer hits high gear. What with nice sunny days to hit the golf course, pools, outdoor restaurant for day drinking with friends and big decks or lanais to read trashy novels and gossip rags what is a gal to do? Duh - all of the above. And really, what am I supposed to write about? My busy weekly schedule? Let's see:
Monday: Went to friend's pool. Got drunk. Got burnt. Forgot to cook dinner.
Tuesday: Played golf. Had lunch with girls. Got drunk. Took a nap. Didn't feel like cooking dinner.
Wednesday: Ran errands. Actually bought food. Read on deck or lanai. Nothing on TV so husband wants to go out for dinner. Imagine this - got drunk.
Thursday: Hungover from night before. Bummed around house all day and played on computer. stomach rolls at the thought of cooking dinner. Did rest liver though.
Friday: Weekly lunch with girls at the pool. Cocktails. Never cook on Fridays - it's the weekend.
Saturday: Pool day. Got drunk. Got burnt. Ordered carry out.
Sunday: Cooked the dog eggs for breakfast. Watched news programs. Played golf with friends. Had dinner with friends. Cocktails involved.
Repeat Weekly

Now at any given time my Rheumatoid Arthritis may flare up which renders the above schedule null and void. Then I am 100% beyond my usual useless status and at that point I just sit in a chair and watch mindless television hopped up on pain pills wishing I could be back to my regular useless self. Of course this is when I come up with some great blog topics that I never seem to remember to write down for future reference.

This is just a short one for today, I actually have a few topics coming. My 20 year high school reunion, my pet peeves in life, my new idea for a reality show and maybe a political zinger. I have to get going for now - the cocktails are calling.

Your Kid is So Not That Cute.

Let me begin this by stating I have two children of my own and they are grown adults and currently I dislike one and the other is doing OK in my book. Yes, you heard me right. I actually dislike one of my kids. Yup. Long story - boring ending but in a round about way the point of this blog. You see ... I actually see my kids with OPEN eyes and do not see them as the Second Coming and admit they have faults and rotten behavior or suck in general. This is directed to all of the parents out there who have children who are in need of a good old fashioned spanking - and quite frankly, the parents could use one too.



A friend of mine posted this on his Facebook status yesterday, "katsup covered crabby kids on an oversold flight, yay" and this got me thinking. How many times have we all been in this dreaded situation? Not necessarily the oversold flight or even the crabby kid part but the warning words to me were "katsup" covered. Being around pint sized terrorists who won't even allow dear old mom and/or dad to clean off their faces because they are going to throw such a fit that would leave even the hardest of Marine drill instructors quaking in their boots. That situation. The rotten-overindulged-child runs the house and knows it situation.



I have had it with these kids and their parents. I am tired of going to public places and having my time ruined by them. No, I do not want to play peek-a-boo with your kid while trying on clothing in the stores. Not in the fitting rooms when a head snakes under the door nor having the little shits pop out from the clothing racks. I am glad you are shopping in peace while the sales clerks are following your mini-tornadoes and my fellow shoppers and I are your free nannies but get a clue. Your kid is not cute and you are an asshole parent. Hire a sitter if you want to shop in peace and if that is not possible, guess what ... keep your little darling next to you and if he runs off - BRING HIM BACK TO YOU! You obviously know this is going on or else you would be calling store security faster than I can say Amber Alert unless you too want to lose the little shit for good.



And circling back to the catsup (sorry - can't take my friend's spelling of it any longer.) Must you bring your children to restaurants if you know they have no table manners or ability to sit for any longer than the average housefly? I have no problem with kids in restaurants when they know how to BEHAVE but let's face it ... they are few and far between these days. Does my nice meal out really need to be interrupted when your kid is running in circles all through the restaurant shrieking at high decibels throwing kid menu confetti like it is a parade in her honor? I think not. When she roams table to table looking at people's food, trust me it is not cute, it is creepy and rude. When the restroom has been utterly trashed because Princess was bored and went in unaccompanied by and adult it is definitely not cute. Playing the game of "how many paper towels will stuff up the toilet?" is not only not funny but more than an inconvenience to the rest of the customers and more than likely extremely costly to restaurant owner who now gets to pay the plumber's bill. Oh ... and how could I forget the little darling's other fun game of when finally being forced to the table to eat - "how big of a disgusting mess can I make around me?" Chicken strips and fries go flying and mom's beg the kid to eat. Fun stuff. Usually by that point I think she should be duct taped to the chair with a napkin stuffed in her mouth until it is time to leave with a hundred percent gratuity added to your server's check for mental anguish. I also think you should buy the other restaurant patrons a round of drinks.

And then there are the parents who skip the whole restaurant scene and think it is just fine to bring the kids to bars! Yup ... the last place where it should be fine to hide from unrestrained little shitheads is no longer safe. Just a couple of weeks ago I was sitting with a friend smoking and drinking and having a very heated debate (read - dropping the f-bomb every other word) in a bar when some asshole dad approaches us and tells us to watch our language because his kids are "parroting" our language. Are you fucking kidding me? Why in the hell did you bring your kid to a bar for dinner? Are you going to bitch about our smoking and ban the Jager shots next? Should the bar start printing a list of virgin drinks and call it the Kiddie Bar Drink List? Instead of Ladies Night should we start having Jammies Nights - bring your own sippie cup? Unfortunately my friend and I were too polite and said we'd try to keep it down instead of just saying "Fuck you buddy."

And who in the hell invented the mini-shopping cart? Just what inattentive parents need is to give the little beasts their own carts so they can go in their own directions! Great fucking idea.
Dad can be off in the dairy department while Jr. can be off on the candy aisle making his own purchases. Can't wait to be at the register for that happy ending. But seriously. Thanks for letting Jr. have the cart so he can now ram that one into my legs and over my feet all on his own at such an early age. I guess it can be considered training for later in life.



But I think some of the worst examples of these kids have come from actual people I know. I would not call them close friends but more acquaintances I run into at social functions and the thing that makes me laugh the hardest is when they claim to be such strict parents. If only you knew how hard it is for me to contain my laughter. One gal tells of how strict she is and her daughter is known for pulling adults hair and telling them to their faces she does not like them. Yup. Pretty strict. Another gal is Miss Manners when it comes to her son and he spits on adults and then giggles. Cute. A different mom has a slapper. The stories go on and on. I think the only thing they might be strict with these kids about is they have to wear clothing in public. I kid you not. Baths get negotiated, meals get negotiated, even school. Are you shitting me. When I was a kid (yes ... I just said the dreaded phrase) school was never an option! You went. Period. Being sick meant a fever and usually a doctor's visit. It certainly did not mean telling your parents you were not going because you didn't feel like it. I have to tell you - the one time my daughter faked coming home from school sick and I had to leave work ... I made her day a nightmare. She was in bed, no TV, no Barbies, no nothing. I told her if she was sick she needed her rest and to sleep. That game never happened again. She tried it one more time with her dad when I was out of town and he made her go to work with him and sleep on the couch in his office. GAME OVER KID! Parents 2, Kid 0.

I think it is time for us to take back the land. Kind of a tea party of sorts against the rotten kids of the world. The next time some kid is running around in a store, trip her. Let her go running back to mommy. When she points her finger at you - deny, deny, deny. Tell dear mommy she fell and if mommy had been watching her she could have seen it for herself. Complain to a restaurant manager, over and over and over again. You never know - they might get asked to leave and if not ... they might get asked to never return. It does happen you know. If you have a friend who has a kid who pulls your hair - pull their's right back. Is it juvenile? Yup, but the kid might just learn it hurts and stop. And you know what else? The next time you see a kid that is really behaving WELL in public - make sure to tell him and his parents. That one compliment makes all of the nagging worth it. Their smiles will prove it.

Why I love reality television

OK, I willing admit I am a reality TV addict. But not just any reality TV, I love the trashy, junky, eat your brain reality TV. None of this "Biggest Loser" feel good stuff for me. I don't want to cry tears of joy because some diabetic on the verge of losing his feet took off two hundred pounds and gained a fiancee. I want to watch a bunch of total morons who have chosen to splash their pathetic lives on the small screen each week just for my entertainment value. Would you like to know why? Because these fools make me feel really really good about myself. Let's do a little channel surfing, shall we ...

Rock of Love Bus or Chlamydia on Tour on VH1. Bret Michaels former Poison frontman has not managed to find love on two previous seasons of Rock of Love so what better to do than pack up two busses of skanks and go on tour?!? My feel good points from this show. 1. I may be a drunk but I am not an alcoholic whore giving blowjobs on a tourbus. 2. I might not have made millions in my life but then again I am not trying to restart my career on VH1 screwing disease ridden sluts. 3. I have learned a lot of fashion "don't" tips from these so called "ladies."

Any of the Real Housewives of franchise on Bravo. Orange County is my favorite however New York is the current running season. The gist of these gals is how rough life can be when you have money. Oh yeah cupcakes, it really sucks the big one toughing it out in the Hamptons for the summer. Those Botox sessions can be so messy. Spending those couple of hours a week with your kids can be so tough. Keep working out with the trainer on the arm muscles for that backstabbing. Happy points after watching these bitches. 1. 99% of my friends are tried and true. 2. I am glad I do not have a Bronx accent. 3. I like living the life of a beach girl.

Keeping Up With the Kardashians on E! This family could not be more fucked up if they tried yet are so addictive it is frightening. Mom pimps her three eldest daughters out as much as possible, the two youngest are whores-in-training, the son is useless and good old Bruce Jenner just sits back and watches everything happen with his bad plastic surgeried face not moving. Seriously, when your eight year old has the moves down on the stripper pole in your bedroom and it airs on television you are one study for psychology classes for years to come. And let's not forget when Kim posed for Playboy and did not want to go nude and good mom Kris made her. Ah ... what a "momager." I also so look forward to Brody Jenner's cameo appearances as the good big brother who watches porn while babysitting. Why I like my life points. 1. Neither of my kids has been in a porno, gone to jail for probation violation or posed for Playboy. 2. My husband does not have a face like Bruce Jenner's. 3. No one in my family has ever defended O.J. Simpson for murder.

High School Reunion on TVLand. This one is a freaking hoot and I highly doubt my upcoming reunion in June will resemble this show. First it takes place in Hawaii over the course of a couple of weeks. Secondly, only a dozen or so people attend. And finally they find the people who all have some sort of unresolved issues with each other. The divorced couple. The mean girl and the girl she picked on. The band geek who turned out hot. You get the idea. I don't know where they find these people but when I say they have issues I mean ISSUES! Last week Liz the "misfit" dropped about three seconds of f-bombs on Jenny the "mean girl cheerleader" due to twenty years of pent up rage. Get over it girl ... it was fucking high school. I guess we know who goes postal after all. Keep an eye on this woman. But supposedly they made up after an overnight "detention" and all is well. You bet. Uh huh. Aly happy points. 1. Facebook has become a reunion of sorts and it is fun. 2. I am glad I am not carrying around 20 years of anger from high school. I like being a dumb and happy adult.

I have only hit on a few of the shows I watch. I am a terrible insomniac and with the love of DVR and reruns my addiction runs rampant but I think you get the gist. While others may call reality television brain rot I consider it personal prozac. That there are such foolish people out there that feel the need open up every aspect of their pathetic lives for the world to see makes me happy. I am not a loser for watching them, they are the losers for opening their doors, mouths, suitcases and in the case of Rock of Love Bus - legs for all to see ... and I love it! Thanks for being such fuckups. You make me happy I am me.

It's Florida ... it's Spring Break... it sucks.

As a resident of this great state I understand the need for tourism dollars more than anyone but it does not mean I have to like it. Another year of terrorists have descended upon us for Spring Break to fuck up our traffic, take up our regular bar stools, treat us like we OWE them something and just basically screw our daily lives in general.

Welcome to my day. I have to first wake up to an alarm rather than whenever the hell I feel like it due to the fact I have an errand further down the beach which would normally take 10 minutes is now going to take an hour for the whole 6 mile round trip. Swell. Next ... lucky girl I am, have to go off-island and not even in-town. I actually have to hit the nearby outlet mall as I cannot force my tennis shoes to work another week before the duct tape comes out and while I have exceeding low standards, I at least have some. So hurdle number one. Let's try and share the lane in the parking lot. It's not as easy and it sounds. No really - you just take up the whole row sir before you take up the whole spot before I can move my car forward, I understand it is your out-of-state dollars driving our state economy in ONE WEEK while the rest of us live here year round. Please, be my guest. By the way, do you drive that well in Alabama the other 51 weeks of the year?

Next Game. Play "Dodge your snotty nosed brats running around the shoe store while you are trying to stuff your foot into EVERY SINGLE FUCKING SHOE ON CLEARANCE!" Please, I am trying to pay full price for my New Balance cross trainers even though I am at an outlet mall. But again, your six dollars minus the coupon you picked up from the lady at the kiosk in the center of the mall will really rev-up Lee County's bottom line this week. I just want to be out of the store before you tell your toddler son he may not have the pretty pink plaid purse he has been toting around and spilling juice on during my time in the store. Oh - and to add insult to injury, the coupon specifically states "No New Balance" - I know this from past experience.

Next Stop. Trying to dodge the disgruntled women at Bath and Body Works who are extremely dismayed to find the story "really isn't an outlet store." Bummer. Then get the fuck out and stop harassing the sales clerks, let me buy my plug-in thingies and candles and go. Now I am just getting pissed off by people who aren't even contributing to the local economy but who are just fucking stupid.

Final stop - thank God - because this is the one that might have pushed me over the edge if I had any more stops to make. I stopped in at the coffee shop to get an iced tea or a virgin Ice Pick (no vodka!) I have the big bag with the shoes, a heavy bag with candles and my purse which could almost pass for checked luggage. As I am walking out these two fuckwits are behind me with EMPTY FUCKING HANDS and do not try to help with the door and as I have leaned my ass on the door to open for myself they fucking walked through and Mr. Sensitive in his New York accent says "Thanks Babe." Fucking terrorists.

So, I get in my car absolutely seething. Light a smoke. Crank up the stereo and prepare for the drive back to the beach. Traffic sucked. Took an hour to go less than five miles. And my only other comment on traffic - why must kids feel the need to share their fucking rap music with me(or anyone else for that matter) when sitting in traffic? And why do I now sound like my mother when I say this? All I know is ... I do shock the shit out of them when I crank my tunes right back up with Kid Rock, The Ramones, Iggy Pop or something else of the sort you would never expect from a housewife in a Volvo SUV.

Aly's contribution to the local economy today: $275 and some change
Aly's aggrivation: do you seriously think I count that high?
Happy Weekend.

Welcome to my first blog.

So I guess I have finally committed myself to something other than drinking on a regular basis. Well, I guess I am more committed to more things than that if I think about it. I have been married to the same guy for almost 16 years. I do manage to take the dog out on a regular basis. I have been growing out a heinous haircut for almost 20 months. Hell. That alone could have gotten me through nine months of pregnancy and still have almost a year old kid. Shit, shoot me!!!! No - how in the hell did I get so far off track from my original thought? Oh, because I'm me. So back to commitment. I have been toying with the idea of a blog for awhile. My friend Chase was the first one to give me the courage to go public. Then some other friends have been pushing me so here goes. My goal is to try to write daily but let's face facts. Some days I am just to drunk to sit at a keyboard and type letters that come out in order. Other days I am just too fucking lazy. I have zero plans for what I am going to write other than what the title of the blog spells out ... random thoughts of a useless housewife.

I am going to let you in on a little bit about me. I come across as pretty flighty but in all actuality I am not that dumb - in fact I am fairly intelligent. My goal is to write funny shit - as I would rather be entertaining but since these are MY random thoughts I might one day have a rant about how my husband has pissed me off, which will still probably be funny, but I am just saying there might be something serious once in a blue moon. I plan to leave politics off the table unless I am so angry that unless I need to pound the letters because there is not enough Absolut, Camel Turkish Silvers and Mommy's Little Helper's to keep me from taking a ten story dive!!! I have a feeling you will be hearing a lot about reality TV, stupid terrorists - excuse me tourists - here in FL, bad blue haired drivers, rotten restaurant customers at the restaurant where I hang out and sometimes work, my family (of course) and just what it's like to be me in general. Trust me, being me is a very complicated and confusing process, I sincerely would not recommend it. Now being my dog is a whole other story. If I were you - I would be sending your resume now to be my dog. In fact D - O - G is a dirty word in our house. Gabby is a Princess and you had better remember that dammit. She rules the house with an iron paw and we just borrow space from her thankyouverymuch.

Going to sign off for now, have a riveting date with the AM paper, a Coke, my smokes, an ER rerun, the KU game and Icepicks (Absolut Citron and iced tea - the drink of all women who hide daydrinking well) at the beach. Let me know what you think. Like I really care.