Yeah, I admit that I enjoy a bit of the tabloids now and then. It's a guilty pleasure. Mostly because of the show TMZ. I know it started as a website, but I did not really read it. Once I caught the show, I was hooked. I love seeing the people who work there interact. It's funny and usually way more entertaining than the actual celebrity gossip. Check your local listings.
That said, I get it that I hear about reality tv "stars" or "opportunists" or "annoying fuckers famous for nothing". You're gonna get some of that in the crossfire.
But why the hell do I need to hear about the Kardashians or the Jersey Shore nimrods on the news or in any polite society for that matter.
One episode of TMZ featured a camera man following Kim from behind to the gym. She stops, turns around and tells the man that he is disrespectful.
Let's not forget that the Kardashians became famous because of a sex tape...that Kim's mother "leaked". One that feature her ass apparently, as do most pictures of her.
What a trifling gold digging beast of a mother. Granted, they've made a crapload of money. Maybe it was worth it...to them. I do not need to see their smug faces everywhere though.
And why or why or why does Snooki need to be in the Three Stooges Movie. What is a Snooki? Why do I know what she looks like? I mean, Abercrombie paid the Shore people not to wear their clothes. That's how disgusting these people are.
Why am I so jealous that they are famous for nothing?
Because I know several talented people who have amazing gifts. People that should be on screen, that should have records, that should be making a living off of their ART. Instead, we have to watch a bunch of fucking clowns make millions for being like idiots.
Why I got myself in a tizzy this late, I do not know. I need some chamomile or some shit.
By the way here's a way to lend support, if you so choose, to voice on the ridiculousness of some of these folks on Facebook. Boycott the K
Speaking of, feel free to friend me on Facebook. I do not have any friends yet, it's a new page.
About Me
- Artemis J
- I am brutally honest, super opinionated, and swear like a sailor. You have been warned. You'll either love me or hate me. I'm cool either way. All posts and personal photographs herein are © Copyright 2011 ArtemisJ. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Does This Bed Come Equipt With Earplugs?
I do not know what my deal is with not writing. I think it's because I feel like I do not have enough exciting things going on. Except I did not write much about that anyway. I've had a bunch of running thoughts and didn't get around to writing them. I have to do it in the moment or I just kinds lose the hutzpah, you know. Also, I tend to just write about what's annoying me at the moment.
And at the moment it's my honey's snoring. Lord. Have. Mercy.
Now, I have been known to snore a bit. Mostly because the boobs smash my wind pipe. Sorry, but it's true. Regardless, I know I snore sometimes.
Why is it that the person that snores like a beastmaster falls asleep the minute their head hits the pillow? Seriously. It's a pattern.
Growing up, I found my dad's snoring comforting. He worked rotating shifts and he worked hard, bless him. Hearing him snore meant he was home. And as he grew older, hearing him snore also meant I knew he was still alive. Though I once almost gave him a heart attack sneaking up on him one drunken late night.
What? I crawled in during the wee hours and he was lying on the floor (which he does often doze off in front of the telly) but was not snoring. So my drunk ass goes downstairs and gets in his face to hear if he's breathing. Of course he wakes up in horror to find his big curly haired, goth makeup wearing, inebriated daughter inches from his mug.
I'm surprised he didn't take a swing at me. I probably would have.
p.s. I was of age. I did live with the parents for a year or so after college. Good folks.
That snoring went on in another room though. As a girl, I found comfort in it. Hell, even now I do when I visit them. But right now, oooo lawd.
Actually he's (my man) not all that bad. I've been finding myself not getting to sleep until like 4am or something and then sleeping in a bit when he goes to work. I am considering getting a graveyard shift job, though that would be we wouldn't be able to go to bed together and I don't even mean that in a pervy way. It's just nice to actually sleep together. I know he feels bad about it, poor lamb. It's not all his fault anyway.
I have trouble falling asleep as it is. I always have. I am a nocturnal person. I kick into gear in the evening. I have always been this way, even as a child. My parents were constantly yelling at me to go to sleep. I'd be all up in my room reading, watching TV (on this precious 12 inch black & white), or listening to music - which always gave me away because I'd sing. One of them would come in and be like "SLEEP!" I just simply could not.
Sometimes I get up and do stuff - like tonight. Other times I just try to relax in bed and I play games on my iPhone, which my sweetheart of a man got me. I should try to make better use of my time. I will hopefully be going back to school soon and will not have the luxury of late night shenanigans.
And really, if snoring is the biggest conflict to deal with, I don't have too much to complain about.
Happy Holidays!
Check this guy out. Come on...just come on. And the poor cat. Look at those poor, soulless eyes that say "I cannot tolerate another minute of this guy's weird."
I wonder if he snores. Though I kinda doubt it would keep anyone else up.
And at the moment it's my honey's snoring. Lord. Have. Mercy.
Now, I have been known to snore a bit. Mostly because the boobs smash my wind pipe. Sorry, but it's true. Regardless, I know I snore sometimes.
Why is it that the person that snores like a beastmaster falls asleep the minute their head hits the pillow? Seriously. It's a pattern.
Growing up, I found my dad's snoring comforting. He worked rotating shifts and he worked hard, bless him. Hearing him snore meant he was home. And as he grew older, hearing him snore also meant I knew he was still alive. Though I once almost gave him a heart attack sneaking up on him one drunken late night.
What? I crawled in during the wee hours and he was lying on the floor (which he does often doze off in front of the telly) but was not snoring. So my drunk ass goes downstairs and gets in his face to hear if he's breathing. Of course he wakes up in horror to find his big curly haired, goth makeup wearing, inebriated daughter inches from his mug.
I'm surprised he didn't take a swing at me. I probably would have.
p.s. I was of age. I did live with the parents for a year or so after college. Good folks.
That snoring went on in another room though. As a girl, I found comfort in it. Hell, even now I do when I visit them. But right now, oooo lawd.
Actually he's (my man) not all that bad. I've been finding myself not getting to sleep until like 4am or something and then sleeping in a bit when he goes to work. I am considering getting a graveyard shift job, though that would be we wouldn't be able to go to bed together and I don't even mean that in a pervy way. It's just nice to actually sleep together. I know he feels bad about it, poor lamb. It's not all his fault anyway.
I have trouble falling asleep as it is. I always have. I am a nocturnal person. I kick into gear in the evening. I have always been this way, even as a child. My parents were constantly yelling at me to go to sleep. I'd be all up in my room reading, watching TV (on this precious 12 inch black & white), or listening to music - which always gave me away because I'd sing. One of them would come in and be like "SLEEP!" I just simply could not.
Sometimes I get up and do stuff - like tonight. Other times I just try to relax in bed and I play games on my iPhone, which my sweetheart of a man got me. I should try to make better use of my time. I will hopefully be going back to school soon and will not have the luxury of late night shenanigans.
And really, if snoring is the biggest conflict to deal with, I don't have too much to complain about.
Happy Holidays!
Check this guy out. Come on...just come on. And the poor cat. Look at those poor, soulless eyes that say "I cannot tolerate another minute of this guy's weird."
I wonder if he snores. Though I kinda doubt it would keep anyone else up.
Friday, December 2, 2011
It's Official
I full on stood at the meat counter with a calculator trying to figure out which was the better deal for ground turkey. Two different sized packages and I had coupons.
I have become a soccer mom. A childless, soccerless soccer mom.
Lord have mercy. I am fucking boring as shit.
Though I am content here, I mean - it's not a horrible life - I have a lovely man that adores me and I also love to pieces. At the end of the day, that is really all that matters.
But this city lacks hutzpah, you know? There's just nothing special. It's rather dull actually. No culture. And it's not just me that says so. My best friend ran into a girlfriend who's best friend also moved out here last year.
Did you follow that? Anyway, the couple that moved here is having issues finding friends and culture and generally something not suburban to do. My bestie is going to get me their info. I need some flipping cool people to hang out with.
I am a bona fide city girl. That's just the way it is. And why is the spellcheck for "bona fide" "debonaire"? Though I'd like to think of myself as such as well. So humble.
Having a car has helped, though driving here is koo-koo. People are nuts! everyone drives as though they are entitled. As in "I am entitled not to be aware that anyone else exists". Seriously, people do not even look! They drive through red lights! I do not mean going through a yellow. I mean full on standing red light. Just because they feel like it. And they just randomly pull out of parking spaces. No one looks at anything. They just go.
I'm gonna have to lay down the law, I guess. Because my crazy ass will yell at someone.
I think I get it now why housewives in the 50's freaked out and drank. I am ready for a cocktail myself.
The car is fabulous by the way. We got a Honda CRV in this Urban (ha ha) Titanium color. Of course I woke up the next day, looked at it and cried for two hours that it looked like a mini van and was brown. I was all "How did I get here? there is nothing cool about that car? When did I become a yuppy?! Why did you let me get that one? I should have waited for the black one."
I was hysterical. It was ridiculous. I blame a raging case of PMS and Mercury being in retrograde. Fucking Mercury.
I love it now though. It's actually super pretty.
I have become a soccer mom. A childless, soccerless soccer mom.
Lord have mercy. I am fucking boring as shit.
Though I am content here, I mean - it's not a horrible life - I have a lovely man that adores me and I also love to pieces. At the end of the day, that is really all that matters.
But this city lacks hutzpah, you know? There's just nothing special. It's rather dull actually. No culture. And it's not just me that says so. My best friend ran into a girlfriend who's best friend also moved out here last year.
Did you follow that? Anyway, the couple that moved here is having issues finding friends and culture and generally something not suburban to do. My bestie is going to get me their info. I need some flipping cool people to hang out with.
I am a bona fide city girl. That's just the way it is. And why is the spellcheck for "bona fide" "debonaire"? Though I'd like to think of myself as such as well. So humble.
Having a car has helped, though driving here is koo-koo. People are nuts! everyone drives as though they are entitled. As in "I am entitled not to be aware that anyone else exists". Seriously, people do not even look! They drive through red lights! I do not mean going through a yellow. I mean full on standing red light. Just because they feel like it. And they just randomly pull out of parking spaces. No one looks at anything. They just go.
I'm gonna have to lay down the law, I guess. Because my crazy ass will yell at someone.
I think I get it now why housewives in the 50's freaked out and drank. I am ready for a cocktail myself.
The car is fabulous by the way. We got a Honda CRV in this Urban (ha ha) Titanium color. Of course I woke up the next day, looked at it and cried for two hours that it looked like a mini van and was brown. I was all "How did I get here? there is nothing cool about that car? When did I become a yuppy?! Why did you let me get that one? I should have waited for the black one."
I was hysterical. It was ridiculous. I blame a raging case of PMS and Mercury being in retrograde. Fucking Mercury.
I love it now though. It's actually super pretty.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Eveything I Heard Is True
We've been looking at purchasing a new car. It's unfamiliar territory for both of us, but we've been trekking along.
We went to a large auto mall, which is cool because you can hit a bunch of dealerships. And by bunch - I mean two. Because they spend so much time yacking that you cannot get a straight answer. What the hell?
The first guy asks the oh so famous "what can I do to get you in this car?" for a car we really did not want. I just kinda wanted to get my feet wet. The fiance is like "give us a better price" and throws out a number. He comes back with some nonsense and ASKS AGAIN. And we say - "how about this price?". The idiot sends over his boss, who talks to me like I am a child and being unreasonable or something. Finally I say "look, it's not really the exact car I am looking for, it has a alot of miles on it - was it driven a few times to NY or something? Anyway, I just want a number that I can put in the hat and think about so the car is under consideration." He throws out a number, finally. It's still too high and we leave.
Show be the number, dude.
Next we go to Honda, which is out of the price range; but I did not like the view from the rear view window of the Kia Sportage, so I want to check the CRV, just in case.
Oooo. Me likey. Me no likey the price tag plus like $2,000 of dealer ad-ons. Seriously.
We go in and he asks for a number. J throws out what could have been considered ridiculous, but it's right near the max we want to spend.
I am like - "go through the ad-ons" which he was conveniently avoiding, "there were four things on there, go through them."
Roof rack
Yeah, didn't ask for it. Not paying.
But it's a value.
That is did not ask for. Not paying.
Protection for the seats and the liner for cargo. It covers that. (and is almost $900)
You want me to pay a warantee on some Scotchguarding on the seats. That's ridiculous. I am not paying for that.
Theft protection.
Uh-huh. I have insurance. I am not paying for that crap.
I cannot even remember what the other thing was because I shot it dow so hard, I was not listening. Ridiculous.
"So you adding a bunch of things that I did not ask for and then bumped up the price. I'm not paying for it."
We can remove it.
Okay, remove the seat protection...that came from the factory. Idiot.
I was beautifully loud about it too. Mess with me. I'm no dummy. I also tell him that he needs not to let me think too much. If I do, I am going to change my mind.
We beat him down quite a bit and threw out a number higher than what we wanted to pay really. But we said we'd take it if he gave it to us. He leaves for the hundredth time.
He comes back.
"Do you have it in another color. I don't think I like the blue." He looks exasperated. J's all "she warned you not to make her think" It was pretty funny.
They would just not give the price we wanted - even when it was higher that what we originally wanted to pay. We go to leave and the owner comes out. He shiesters me into going back in. Gives me like $250 more off and some good financing. Some sob story on how is making $100 on the deal or some crap.
I do not budge. "Let me think about it" They try to pressure and I am all "It's alot of money, more than I want to spend. I just need to clear my head and crunch numbers."
I do like the car an awful lot. J goes back in to tell him to hold it and we'll come back tomorrow.
Of course I think about it and change my mind. I actually have the courtesy to email him to let him know we are passing. They call me twice the next day, as they do J. We do not respond.
J's step-dad gets us a deal at a dealership near his house that he does business with. It's pretty good. J gets another deal from a dealership via email that says they will beat any other deal. With a dealer incentive that the one deal has - this new one will be seriously close to the price we thought was ridiculously low.
Good thing that salesman decided to try to wear me out into submission. Which really does not work for me. I tend to not submit, but walk away. I do not handle pressure that way. I have to process things for a long time.
Last night we checked out the Hyudai Tuscon. I liked it as well. Though the CRV has a more luxury feel, I would totally get the Tuscon if the price is right. Their basic model has more electronic bells & whistles. Plus, it's like $100 for the cargo tray (which I will get for free) and it already has a luggage rack.
If we were not going the email route, I was prepared to walk into a dealership with a damn picnic basket. I'd just chill and have some lunch while we go back and forth. Let them take their time. It would have been funny, but I don't think we are doing that now. Emailing directly seems to be working. Would that not be hilarious though?
It is crazy how they try to wear you down. It takes a special kind of morality level to do that shit. I was in sales myself, but could never do what they do. First, I do not have the patience. Second, I just don't like screwing good people over.
It makes me want to go dick these guys over though. I am pretty convincing. I could so fake wanting to buy a car. I may do the picnic thing after all. Performance art!
We went to a large auto mall, which is cool because you can hit a bunch of dealerships. And by bunch - I mean two. Because they spend so much time yacking that you cannot get a straight answer. What the hell?
The first guy asks the oh so famous "what can I do to get you in this car?" for a car we really did not want. I just kinda wanted to get my feet wet. The fiance is like "give us a better price" and throws out a number. He comes back with some nonsense and ASKS AGAIN. And we say - "how about this price?". The idiot sends over his boss, who talks to me like I am a child and being unreasonable or something. Finally I say "look, it's not really the exact car I am looking for, it has a alot of miles on it - was it driven a few times to NY or something? Anyway, I just want a number that I can put in the hat and think about so the car is under consideration." He throws out a number, finally. It's still too high and we leave.
Show be the number, dude.
Next we go to Honda, which is out of the price range; but I did not like the view from the rear view window of the Kia Sportage, so I want to check the CRV, just in case.
Oooo. Me likey. Me no likey the price tag plus like $2,000 of dealer ad-ons. Seriously.
We go in and he asks for a number. J throws out what could have been considered ridiculous, but it's right near the max we want to spend.
I am like - "go through the ad-ons" which he was conveniently avoiding, "there were four things on there, go through them."
Roof rack
Yeah, didn't ask for it. Not paying.
But it's a value.
That is did not ask for. Not paying.
Protection for the seats and the liner for cargo. It covers that. (and is almost $900)
You want me to pay a warantee on some Scotchguarding on the seats. That's ridiculous. I am not paying for that.
Theft protection.
Uh-huh. I have insurance. I am not paying for that crap.
I cannot even remember what the other thing was because I shot it dow so hard, I was not listening. Ridiculous.
"So you adding a bunch of things that I did not ask for and then bumped up the price. I'm not paying for it."
We can remove it.
Okay, remove the seat protection...that came from the factory. Idiot.
I was beautifully loud about it too. Mess with me. I'm no dummy. I also tell him that he needs not to let me think too much. If I do, I am going to change my mind.
We beat him down quite a bit and threw out a number higher than what we wanted to pay really. But we said we'd take it if he gave it to us. He leaves for the hundredth time.
He comes back.
"Do you have it in another color. I don't think I like the blue." He looks exasperated. J's all "she warned you not to make her think" It was pretty funny.
They would just not give the price we wanted - even when it was higher that what we originally wanted to pay. We go to leave and the owner comes out. He shiesters me into going back in. Gives me like $250 more off and some good financing. Some sob story on how is making $100 on the deal or some crap.
I do not budge. "Let me think about it" They try to pressure and I am all "It's alot of money, more than I want to spend. I just need to clear my head and crunch numbers."
I do like the car an awful lot. J goes back in to tell him to hold it and we'll come back tomorrow.
Of course I think about it and change my mind. I actually have the courtesy to email him to let him know we are passing. They call me twice the next day, as they do J. We do not respond.
J's step-dad gets us a deal at a dealership near his house that he does business with. It's pretty good. J gets another deal from a dealership via email that says they will beat any other deal. With a dealer incentive that the one deal has - this new one will be seriously close to the price we thought was ridiculously low.
Good thing that salesman decided to try to wear me out into submission. Which really does not work for me. I tend to not submit, but walk away. I do not handle pressure that way. I have to process things for a long time.
Last night we checked out the Hyudai Tuscon. I liked it as well. Though the CRV has a more luxury feel, I would totally get the Tuscon if the price is right. Their basic model has more electronic bells & whistles. Plus, it's like $100 for the cargo tray (which I will get for free) and it already has a luggage rack.
If we were not going the email route, I was prepared to walk into a dealership with a damn picnic basket. I'd just chill and have some lunch while we go back and forth. Let them take their time. It would have been funny, but I don't think we are doing that now. Emailing directly seems to be working. Would that not be hilarious though?
It is crazy how they try to wear you down. It takes a special kind of morality level to do that shit. I was in sales myself, but could never do what they do. First, I do not have the patience. Second, I just don't like screwing good people over.
It makes me want to go dick these guys over though. I am pretty convincing. I could so fake wanting to buy a car. I may do the picnic thing after all. Performance art!
Friday, October 21, 2011
Close Encounters
I feel like an alien. Seriously.
I will say that people are pretty damn nice out here. Last month a random girl took me to the airport. You heard me. My shuttle was over an hour late. She heard me freaking out - and by freaking out, I mean raise my voice, because this town could not handle me at a 10 - and offered me a ride. What? And another girl helped me carry my groceries up last week.
Apparently, it pays to live above a Starbucks.
But I feel very isolated. I am having trouble adjusting. I am like this big, fat, loud, harsh beast that does not belong. This area will never feel like home to me. I am just here. I would give almost anything to be back in Chicago. This place is kinda sucking my will to live.
So, we go to San Fran for a couple days and I decide to get my hair did whilst the fiance is at work. I go to this salon by the hotel. The most adorable little hipster gay colored my hair and convinced me to do something fun with it. Now I am a little worried that it may look bad when I wash it out - but now it's straight and looks awesome.
He was from Washington DC. He was feeling me on how different it was out here and how people were way more sensitive and, though pleasant, more sketchy. As in not saying what they mean. It was fun to bitch with someone. He told me that the only people he really has become friends with happen to be from the east coast. It doesn't surprise me. I have more on San Fran, but I need to vent about some other business today.
I've noticed that I've said things and people are uncomfortable, when to me it's clear I am just being brash or silly like "why you gotta be like that?" and I get and "I'm sorry". For real? You think I'm upset when I say that? I need for everyone out here to watch Seinfeld. See Elaine? Now love her...get her...okay see - that's pretty much me.
Sorry gang, I am in a foul mood today. My ulcer blew up last night and I still feel a bit nauseous (nauseated? I never get that right). Then I was awoken by unworldly sounds coming out of my cat that freaked me the hell out.
The cats had a major set back a couple of weeks ago. The girl started to get a little aggressive with Roche' (my little guy), you know trying to show dominance for some reason. Roche' was all "Whatever dude, leave me alone, I am just trying to chill out. I'm just wanting to be left alone" But she's kinda a brat and can't leave shit be. She pretty much is my bane. I cannot have anything nice because she will wreck it. Even just writing about her made my computer do a bunch of weird crap. It's now highlighting misspelled words and not correcting them and leaving them highlighted when I do it manually. That just happened. See? BANE.
Anyway, she's causing trouble with him and the big cat gets involved and there is a freaky cat skirmish that almost gives me a mini stroke. It's complete chaos. After which, Roche' has not been the same. He doesn't want to be near either of them. He growls (a sound I have never heard before). He hisses (I had heard him do this twice before - at the ceiling fan). The girl won't leave him be. The big cat usually leaves him alone. Or at least walks three feet away and plops down and is all "I am just chilling here. I want no trouble."
But this morning he decided not to back off and right next to me, in the middle of sleep (finally after being in pain all night), I hear a freaking Puma and Lion going at it. I think the noise came mostly from Roche'. Regardless it freaked me the fuck out. I yelled and the big cat ran out of the room and Roche' hid behind the bed.
I am now stuck in my bedroom because I refuse to lock him up in here as though he were being punished. Plus, I need to make sure he gets out if he has to take care of business or eat. Though he has come out and is hanging with me on the bed.
Their fighting is causing me so much stress. The truth is I come from the school of pets should add goodness to you life. I always thought that people who had trouble pets were complete and utter dumb-asses. I never had a pet for that reason. Why the hell would I take care of something that got on my nerves and did not add value to my life? Not only that, but to cause grief? I would not take that shit from a person, why the fuck would I take it from a mini beast? I deserve to be shot for tolerating it. I am embarrassed by it. It is the stupidest thing in the world. Truth be told, I am miserable about it. I am tired of yelling at them. Not just for fighting, but for doing things or going to places they should not be. I have started calling the girl "earmuffs" as in she's make a good pair.
That is why I love Roche' so much. He's obedient and sweet - the worst things he does is eat ribbons and bites a little when I play rough with him - but I let him do that. He does not jump on any surfaces. Couch, bed, and armchairs only. He is perfect for me. He causes me stress when he is unwell and that's it. I took him from a place where he was bullied and now I have but him in a bad situation. I kinda want to cry right now. The poor thing.
Maybe we should have stayed put.
I will say that people are pretty damn nice out here. Last month a random girl took me to the airport. You heard me. My shuttle was over an hour late. She heard me freaking out - and by freaking out, I mean raise my voice, because this town could not handle me at a 10 - and offered me a ride. What? And another girl helped me carry my groceries up last week.
Apparently, it pays to live above a Starbucks.
But I feel very isolated. I am having trouble adjusting. I am like this big, fat, loud, harsh beast that does not belong. This area will never feel like home to me. I am just here. I would give almost anything to be back in Chicago. This place is kinda sucking my will to live.
So, we go to San Fran for a couple days and I decide to get my hair did whilst the fiance is at work. I go to this salon by the hotel. The most adorable little hipster gay colored my hair and convinced me to do something fun with it. Now I am a little worried that it may look bad when I wash it out - but now it's straight and looks awesome.
He was from Washington DC. He was feeling me on how different it was out here and how people were way more sensitive and, though pleasant, more sketchy. As in not saying what they mean. It was fun to bitch with someone. He told me that the only people he really has become friends with happen to be from the east coast. It doesn't surprise me. I have more on San Fran, but I need to vent about some other business today.
I've noticed that I've said things and people are uncomfortable, when to me it's clear I am just being brash or silly like "why you gotta be like that?" and I get and "I'm sorry". For real? You think I'm upset when I say that? I need for everyone out here to watch Seinfeld. See Elaine? Now love her...get her...okay see - that's pretty much me.
Sorry gang, I am in a foul mood today. My ulcer blew up last night and I still feel a bit nauseous (nauseated? I never get that right). Then I was awoken by unworldly sounds coming out of my cat that freaked me the hell out.
The cats had a major set back a couple of weeks ago. The girl started to get a little aggressive with Roche' (my little guy), you know trying to show dominance for some reason. Roche' was all "Whatever dude, leave me alone, I am just trying to chill out. I'm just wanting to be left alone" But she's kinda a brat and can't leave shit be. She pretty much is my bane. I cannot have anything nice because she will wreck it. Even just writing about her made my computer do a bunch of weird crap. It's now highlighting misspelled words and not correcting them and leaving them highlighted when I do it manually. That just happened. See? BANE.
Anyway, she's causing trouble with him and the big cat gets involved and there is a freaky cat skirmish that almost gives me a mini stroke. It's complete chaos. After which, Roche' has not been the same. He doesn't want to be near either of them. He growls (a sound I have never heard before). He hisses (I had heard him do this twice before - at the ceiling fan). The girl won't leave him be. The big cat usually leaves him alone. Or at least walks three feet away and plops down and is all "I am just chilling here. I want no trouble."
But this morning he decided not to back off and right next to me, in the middle of sleep (finally after being in pain all night), I hear a freaking Puma and Lion going at it. I think the noise came mostly from Roche'. Regardless it freaked me the fuck out. I yelled and the big cat ran out of the room and Roche' hid behind the bed.
I am now stuck in my bedroom because I refuse to lock him up in here as though he were being punished. Plus, I need to make sure he gets out if he has to take care of business or eat. Though he has come out and is hanging with me on the bed.
Their fighting is causing me so much stress. The truth is I come from the school of pets should add goodness to you life. I always thought that people who had trouble pets were complete and utter dumb-asses. I never had a pet for that reason. Why the hell would I take care of something that got on my nerves and did not add value to my life? Not only that, but to cause grief? I would not take that shit from a person, why the fuck would I take it from a mini beast? I deserve to be shot for tolerating it. I am embarrassed by it. It is the stupidest thing in the world. Truth be told, I am miserable about it. I am tired of yelling at them. Not just for fighting, but for doing things or going to places they should not be. I have started calling the girl "earmuffs" as in she's make a good pair.
That is why I love Roche' so much. He's obedient and sweet - the worst things he does is eat ribbons and bites a little when I play rough with him - but I let him do that. He does not jump on any surfaces. Couch, bed, and armchairs only. He is perfect for me. He causes me stress when he is unwell and that's it. I took him from a place where he was bullied and now I have but him in a bad situation. I kinda want to cry right now. The poor thing.
Maybe we should have stayed put.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Monster
First off, let's discuss. This is proof that makeup goes a long way and that we are all pretty much some mascara away from being a monster. Charlize Theron is one of the most beautiful women in the universe and she looks like ass. Plus the bitch she is playing here was a serial killer. Ugliness makes people do some ugly things.
That said, I am desperate need of a makeover. One, my ass...grown. And I do not mean I am a grown ass woman. I mean I have super badunk-a-dunk. It's not cool. And it's especially not cool being no jive turkey so close to Thanksgiving. Yes, that was for you, Smarty.
Seriously though, I am out of control. I have not been working out and that needs to change promptly. I have approximately 11 months. Does my dress fit? Yes. Am I happy with how I look in it? Not especially. Though I am not thrilled with how I look in anything lately. That's not the only reason I need to get into shape though. I am feeling uber gross. And that, also, is not cool.
My phro is also insane. I, at least, remembered that I have thinning shears and put those to work. I could not stand it anymore. I need to make an appointment this week to have some layers put in. That is to say, put in correctly. I have been know to take shears to my head in the middle of the night and wake up with a bob or some shit. I am a crack length away from doing it, so I need to go see a pro. I am debating on color though. Did you all know that I was actually a redhead? For many years. So much so that people though it was my natural color. Though, for the record, I do actually have some red hair...along with blonde, black, and brown. I am a fucking deer mouse, though less pestilent.
So, I have a debate with the parents again about inviting kids to the wedding. I am apparently a horrible monster that hates children and needs to be destroyed.
Sorry, I just cannot handle kids running around when I am in heels. It completely stresses me out. Plus, I figured out that it would cost and additional $2,500 to have all those kids there. You heard me. Twenty-five-freaking-hundred-dollars. Thirty-five extra meals, additional seating/chair covers, additional centerpieces. It all adds up. Should I have to sacrifice how my wedding looks, to save on budget, so that people can bring their children that do not give a shit about me?
And what happened to it being OUR wedding, anyway?
My brother went Godfather on me the other day.
He calls me on Friday night.
"Do you have a photographer?"
"Yeah, but I have not signed a contract yet"
"How much is he charging you?"
"$2,000"
"Do not sign a thing, I have someone for you. He'll do it"
"But..."
"Don't worry about it. He's a good guy. Takes great pictures."
"But how much..."
"Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out."
"But can we get a book and the digital photos and..."
"You're gonna get whatever you want. I said - don't worry about it."
I called him today and was like "Can I talk to this guy?" Turns out he works with my brother, which I am guessing means for my brother. Like he's his boss. He apparently wants to get into the industry and my bro is vouching for him. Guess he won't mess things up because it will be super awkward for him.
For the record, my brother is not a mafia type, which is why it's impossible to say no to him when he pulls crap like that. He has more integrity than anyone I know. Plus, he knows he will not hear the end of it if this dude messes it up. If I can save a grand...I mean, that gives us more to spend on food or whatever. And don't you dare say "or kids" because I will throttle you.
Did I mention that my sister in law is making the cake? How cool is that? We did go to a cake tasting and like the combination that we chose. I could tell she wanted to do it, but was nervous and I was like - Just make it. I am not looking for a free cake, we'll pay you. I just want you to make it. I beat her into submission and am so glad. I want something totally plain anyway. I mean plain in design. I am of course buying cake jewelry. It's a real thing. Trust me. I need bling.
I was in Chicago a couple of weeks ago for my BFF's wedding - which was awesome. I went shopping and bought all the gifts for my bridesmaids. Part of which I am incorporating into the ensemble.
I decided to have my sister, my fiance's sister, and two of my best girls be attendees. Then I wanted my nieces. How to get away with having that many? Make those little heifers flower girls. I do not give a crap. they are wearing the same dresses and just going down the isle in pairs and dropping petals. Did I mention that they will be ages 15 to 23. Whatever. They are my nieces and I think it is precious. Again, I did not want some kid that does not even know us. Plus, I hate when everyone is all cooing at the spectacle.
I was at another wedding last month and the flower girls and ring bearer were just running around, causing a scene. It was so distracting. People were all "awww...how cute." I was like "someone better beat those brats down."
Maybe I am a monster.
I was all nudging my man "See? See? This is why I am having the girls (the nieces) do it. I would be throwing a fit." And honestly, I would.
The weird thing is - I am exceptional with children. I am like the kid whisperer or some shit. But that takes concentration and I am not having it on that day. At least not for that.
Here's some pretty for you:
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Hells Bells
You know, it's a little scary planning a wedding right now. And by right now, I mean with the economy in a shit spiral.
My parents do not give me an exact budget. So I have to guess on everything. Granted, I do not want to spend $50,000 (which I am sure is NOT the budget), I am a thifty gal. You are going to pass out when I tell you how much I paid for my dress. The exact dress I wanted.
I blew up at my mom the other night. I think there was a full moon. Or it could have been that I am planning a cross country move and a wedding at the same time. Could have influenced it. I tend to try to do it all at once and then get overwhelmed.
We were talking about the girls dresses and their shoes and she was like "we'll see what the girls want" Umm...no. I have worn hideous dresses and worn awful shoes. It's my wedding. I get to pick out what they wear. Sorry. I am top skate dog. And actually, I am not sorry.
I blew up at her though. Of course, I felt bad afterwards and called her back. I was fine until she tells me that the projected guest list is 300. What?! How? Why? Well, all our friends and their families. KIDS?! You're inviting kids to my wedding?
So I calmly go on a tirade, explaining how when I see a child running around at a wedding I want to box their ears. I apparently hide my rage well, my mom had no idea. She then tries to guilt me and was like "what about Kathy & Kikki? They have babies" Yeah, and those babies were not at Jenny's wedding last year...and they are super close friends with her - much closer than with me. And they are doctors - they can get a sitter. I totally lost it. I told her that if some little fucker tripped me on that dance floor I would cause a scene. Or if they started running around on the dance floor. I know I would go into asshole mode. I get annoyed at a restaurant. Can you imagine me at my own wedding? I would seriously throw a shit fit. And if I heard a crying baby while I am up on that alter...do not think for a minute that I would not embarrass myself with a tantrum.
But I kept a cool tone. I have a talent for that sometimes. Plus, I had already freaked out earlier; I think I did not have the energy. She called me the next day and said "let's just write Mr. & Mrs." on the cards. Yes, please and thank you.
Back to the clothes. Yes, I have already purchased my dress. It is on it's way to my mom's house. will need some alterations, but it's perfection for me. And I picked out the the girls dresses as well. I did take one of the girls with me. My future sister in law has already ordered hers, bless the little kitten. House of Brides has incredibly awful customer service and are notorious for late, late delivery; so I told the girls to order asap. I know my one girlfriend will slack. I am prepared to have her not stand up because she doesn't have a dress. She kills me.
In three weeks, I should have almost everything planned. We have cake tasting, meetings with photographers and florists, and checking out tuxes planned. I already have my invitations picked out and have researched party favors.
Yes, I am going koo koo clocks. But this means that I can concentrate on setting up our home and finding a job when I get out to California.
My parents do not give me an exact budget. So I have to guess on everything. Granted, I do not want to spend $50,000 (which I am sure is NOT the budget), I am a thifty gal. You are going to pass out when I tell you how much I paid for my dress. The exact dress I wanted.
I blew up at my mom the other night. I think there was a full moon. Or it could have been that I am planning a cross country move and a wedding at the same time. Could have influenced it. I tend to try to do it all at once and then get overwhelmed.
We were talking about the girls dresses and their shoes and she was like "we'll see what the girls want" Umm...no. I have worn hideous dresses and worn awful shoes. It's my wedding. I get to pick out what they wear. Sorry. I am top skate dog. And actually, I am not sorry.
I blew up at her though. Of course, I felt bad afterwards and called her back. I was fine until she tells me that the projected guest list is 300. What?! How? Why? Well, all our friends and their families. KIDS?! You're inviting kids to my wedding?
So I calmly go on a tirade, explaining how when I see a child running around at a wedding I want to box their ears. I apparently hide my rage well, my mom had no idea. She then tries to guilt me and was like "what about Kathy & Kikki? They have babies" Yeah, and those babies were not at Jenny's wedding last year...and they are super close friends with her - much closer than with me. And they are doctors - they can get a sitter. I totally lost it. I told her that if some little fucker tripped me on that dance floor I would cause a scene. Or if they started running around on the dance floor. I know I would go into asshole mode. I get annoyed at a restaurant. Can you imagine me at my own wedding? I would seriously throw a shit fit. And if I heard a crying baby while I am up on that alter...do not think for a minute that I would not embarrass myself with a tantrum.
But I kept a cool tone. I have a talent for that sometimes. Plus, I had already freaked out earlier; I think I did not have the energy. She called me the next day and said "let's just write Mr. & Mrs." on the cards. Yes, please and thank you.
Back to the clothes. Yes, I have already purchased my dress. It is on it's way to my mom's house. will need some alterations, but it's perfection for me. And I picked out the the girls dresses as well. I did take one of the girls with me. My future sister in law has already ordered hers, bless the little kitten. House of Brides has incredibly awful customer service and are notorious for late, late delivery; so I told the girls to order asap. I know my one girlfriend will slack. I am prepared to have her not stand up because she doesn't have a dress. She kills me.
In three weeks, I should have almost everything planned. We have cake tasting, meetings with photographers and florists, and checking out tuxes planned. I already have my invitations picked out and have researched party favors.
Yes, I am going koo koo clocks. But this means that I can concentrate on setting up our home and finding a job when I get out to California.
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