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.
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rants. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
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:
Friday, July 1, 2011
Is This Really Necessary?
The world knows that I am super judgmental. I am, I admit to it. I am hyper critical about myself. This leads to a crap load of staunch opinions.
A girlfriend's brother is having a baby. Well, his wife is. They decided they were going to take "Pregnancy Pictures"
What the fuck is this nonsense? It's like that weirdo pic I posted in this post. What is this new craze? Why when you never took photos of your belly before do you think it's time to glamour shot it up?
I don't get it. Really, I do not.
I am not saying that pregnant women should not have pictures of themselves preggo. I just think it's totally weird to take specific pregnancy pictures.
Do we blame Demi Moore? I mean, come on.
Am I am asshole? I honestly find these types of pics awkward. I mean, I don't see random ladies taking pictures of themselves in bikinis and posting them. I mean professional pictures. Other than models, actors, or sex trade workers - who does that?
Yet, you have a baby in there and you suddenly want to get half naked on film.
Though I admit that I judged their pictures less harshly because I knew them, I still told my girlfriend (I can use that without people assuming that I'm a lezbot, right?) that I found it ridiculous.
She agreed. She had been having such major mixed feelings about it. She loves them (the couple) but thinks those are weird to take.
Why not also take pictures when you are svelt? Is your body only worthy of being immortalized when you are having a baby? Is it suddenly then you feel worthy? I mean, if you feel comfortable doing that when you are pregs - why not when you are not?
They only reason I do not have photos like that is because I am not keen of how my body looks in a bikini. I accept my body. Just saying - the general public does not need to see my fat ass in a bikini or corset or something.
I can stand by it if it's art, but these women are getting sucked into a trend that, quite frankly, looks pretty tacky. They try to class it up, but not enough. It's pretty much just tackorific.
AND another thing. Why is the woman always half naks and the man fully clothed, It's like they are not even in the same picture.
Case in point:
So she's there in all her lingeried glory while he is wearing a hat. It's dumb. Any child would be embarrassed of this shit when they are old enough to look at it. Who the hell wants to see their mom dressed like this? And the forced tenderness? Lame. "Hold your/her belly, close your eyes, and think about unicorns. Perfect. That's the shot."
To all the pregnant bitches out there - huge bless. Hope all your babies pop out healthy.
A girlfriend's brother is having a baby. Well, his wife is. They decided they were going to take "Pregnancy Pictures"
What the fuck is this nonsense? It's like that weirdo pic I posted in this post. What is this new craze? Why when you never took photos of your belly before do you think it's time to glamour shot it up?
I don't get it. Really, I do not.
I am not saying that pregnant women should not have pictures of themselves preggo. I just think it's totally weird to take specific pregnancy pictures.
Do we blame Demi Moore? I mean, come on.
Am I am asshole? I honestly find these types of pics awkward. I mean, I don't see random ladies taking pictures of themselves in bikinis and posting them. I mean professional pictures. Other than models, actors, or sex trade workers - who does that?
Yet, you have a baby in there and you suddenly want to get half naked on film.
Though I admit that I judged their pictures less harshly because I knew them, I still told my girlfriend (I can use that without people assuming that I'm a lezbot, right?) that I found it ridiculous.
She agreed. She had been having such major mixed feelings about it. She loves them (the couple) but thinks those are weird to take.
Why not also take pictures when you are svelt? Is your body only worthy of being immortalized when you are having a baby? Is it suddenly then you feel worthy? I mean, if you feel comfortable doing that when you are pregs - why not when you are not?
They only reason I do not have photos like that is because I am not keen of how my body looks in a bikini. I accept my body. Just saying - the general public does not need to see my fat ass in a bikini or corset or something.
I can stand by it if it's art, but these women are getting sucked into a trend that, quite frankly, looks pretty tacky. They try to class it up, but not enough. It's pretty much just tackorific.
AND another thing. Why is the woman always half naks and the man fully clothed, It's like they are not even in the same picture.
Case in point:
So she's there in all her lingeried glory while he is wearing a hat. It's dumb. Any child would be embarrassed of this shit when they are old enough to look at it. Who the hell wants to see their mom dressed like this? And the forced tenderness? Lame. "Hold your/her belly, close your eyes, and think about unicorns. Perfect. That's the shot."
To all the pregnant bitches out there - huge bless. Hope all your babies pop out healthy.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
My Opinion Is Not Humble
Honestly, the expression "in my humble opinion" is a load of crap. First of all, it's condescending. A) I know it's you opinion. B) When you premise a comment with that, you are basically saying "I know better than you, but want to manipulate the sitch to seem like I am not saying it outright". No one has said it to me lately. It just peeves me. Though, I do laugh on the inside when people get condescending. I get it dude - you are not so smart that I do not get it.
Actually, it entertains me a snare. I have to be honest.
I have been on an entitlement rampage the last few days. Not me being entitled...people are working my nerves.
My recent travel back to Chicago was a hot mess. I take a shuttle from my boyfriend's to the airport. Sometimes they pick up more peeps. This trip was one of them. This trip I was hoping that they would not get lost. For some reason, they got totally lost last time. I think they had the wrong address. It was stressful though.
I digress.
So we pick up a lady in a scooter. First, we pull up front to a courtyard type building and a young man runs up from the very back apartment and asks for the van to be pulled up through the alley. Fair enough. The driver had called 5 minuted prior to pick up. We should go back there and load up and go, right? Wrong.
They had like 8 suitcases still in the house that the driver had to go in and get. The two kids with the woman each brought out one or two bags. Seriously, the process took at least 15 minutes. I was fuming.
If you know you are about to picked up...for the airport...with other people also needing to get to the airport...wouldn't the thing to do be...I don't know...BE READY? Why were not the bags out on the yard. The secured, gated yard? When you know that they are coming in minutes? Annoyed.
This coming from the girl that is late to everything. Whatever. Not when it comes to someone else having to get to the airport.
The kicker. She is also going to Chicago, but her flight is 2 hours after mine. She wanted to be ready since she is so slow. Thanks for respecting my time, sister.
I actually have a few more instances of interesting random stupid people crap from the journey, but my brain hurts right now. I will have to continue tomorrow.
I hope you are all glorious and free. I have not written in a long time and it's kinda bullshit. I call shenanigans on me right now.
Smooches!
This just made me smile hard. Check out this sweet ride. Is that Abe Vigoda?!
Actually, it entertains me a snare. I have to be honest.
I have been on an entitlement rampage the last few days. Not me being entitled...people are working my nerves.
My recent travel back to Chicago was a hot mess. I take a shuttle from my boyfriend's to the airport. Sometimes they pick up more peeps. This trip was one of them. This trip I was hoping that they would not get lost. For some reason, they got totally lost last time. I think they had the wrong address. It was stressful though.
I digress.
So we pick up a lady in a scooter. First, we pull up front to a courtyard type building and a young man runs up from the very back apartment and asks for the van to be pulled up through the alley. Fair enough. The driver had called 5 minuted prior to pick up. We should go back there and load up and go, right? Wrong.
They had like 8 suitcases still in the house that the driver had to go in and get. The two kids with the woman each brought out one or two bags. Seriously, the process took at least 15 minutes. I was fuming.
If you know you are about to picked up...for the airport...with other people also needing to get to the airport...wouldn't the thing to do be...I don't know...BE READY? Why were not the bags out on the yard. The secured, gated yard? When you know that they are coming in minutes? Annoyed.
This coming from the girl that is late to everything. Whatever. Not when it comes to someone else having to get to the airport.
The kicker. She is also going to Chicago, but her flight is 2 hours after mine. She wanted to be ready since she is so slow. Thanks for respecting my time, sister.
I actually have a few more instances of interesting random stupid people crap from the journey, but my brain hurts right now. I will have to continue tomorrow.
I hope you are all glorious and free. I have not written in a long time and it's kinda bullshit. I call shenanigans on me right now.
Smooches!
This just made me smile hard. Check out this sweet ride. Is that Abe Vigoda?!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
I Have a Case of the Awkwards
I have seen this picture before and it never ceases to amaze me. What were they thinking?
I love that I most recently found it on a Jewish parenting blog. Even more awkward! What is going on?
So, I am at my sweetheart's place and he had to go to work. His cleaning lady is here. Frankly, I may have preferred that she come next week. Or maybe I could have just left for a while. I am feeling a snare awkies. To be honest, I feel like she might be ripping him off.
From what I have noticed in the past, she basically just does the floors and wipes down surfaces in the kitchen. The stairs look like they have never been swept, nor the bedroom furniture dusted. I know that one time, I arrived when she was cleaning and we left. When we returned there was dust on the shelves that the glasses and dishes are stored on. Considering that there is no other furniture besides the TV stand and couch, I think that it is not too much to expect the "bookcase" that holds the glassware to be dusted.
Window sills - dusty. Floorboards - dusty. I seriously do not get it. Granted, the place is always pretty clean - but we also pick up after ourselves. It's not like anything is really dirty anyway.
I mean, I can come here every two weeks and sweeps the floors for crying out loud.
Oh man, have I got some PMS for you.
I know that my place gets really dusty very quickly. Like the same day that I clean. I also live in a 100 year old building, in a major city, on a really busy street.
I am trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe things just get dusty by my next visit. Somehow I doubt it.
Do not think for a minute that I am not doing a white glove inspection when she leaves. Yeah, I'm an asshole like that.
I will not have someone take advantage of my boyfriend. Not when I know that he pays her what a hotel housekeeper would make in 4 hours. And those guestrooms are pretty clean. I say this from my experience in the industry and can only speak as to the cleanliness of hotels I've worked at.
In 4 hours this place would be spotless. He is not cluttery at all. It's easy to clean. In fact the only things that are out are mine.
I had one of the housekeepers come help me once. I gave her $60 and she protested that it was too much, when she had worked her ass off for like 3 hours and my place had been a pit. It was spotless. She moved the furniture, dusted everything. I did do my bedroom myself and dusted the living room, but she did mostly everything. And honestly - it was a fucking sty. I had been working non-stop for weeks and was a basket case. I organized crap while she cleaned. Seriously, she washed everything, like even the bar glasses that I keep on the counter. That stuff gets dirty if you do not periodically clean them.
Hence my concern for my honey's place. I mean, that kind of thing piles up, and soon all your surfaces can be icky.
I am guessing that she will do a better job today though.
Though I cannot figure out why the laundry is running. I was tossing my dirties directly into the machine all week. I was going to add more to it to do a load. There are like two shirts and 5 pair of nundies in there - why the hell would you run that? Not necessary.
Ugh, I am cranky. And poor Mac - I am always complaining about the dust. Honestly, his place is cleaner that mine usually is. I just feel like she is being paid more that what she is doing. Maybe that is just my expectations though. And really, I am glad that the bathroom fixtures and such get cleaned. It's just those little things that end up piling up and then become a huge chore...that yours truly does not want to have to end up eventually doing.
I also don't know how people look normal when they clean. I am a grubby, nasty looking beast of a woman when I do chores. No question about it. I am wearing crap and feeling like it too.
Hmmm...maybe I should dress cuter when I clean. I think then I would not want to get down to the nitty gritty though. My problem is that I do not really maintain well. I let things go a bit and then have to work really hard to clean it all. At least I used to be like that. I have gotten much better over the last year or so. But I still look like crap when I am doing it.
Hey, I can't always look glorious.
I love that I most recently found it on a Jewish parenting blog. Even more awkward! What is going on?
So, I am at my sweetheart's place and he had to go to work. His cleaning lady is here. Frankly, I may have preferred that she come next week. Or maybe I could have just left for a while. I am feeling a snare awkies. To be honest, I feel like she might be ripping him off.
From what I have noticed in the past, she basically just does the floors and wipes down surfaces in the kitchen. The stairs look like they have never been swept, nor the bedroom furniture dusted. I know that one time, I arrived when she was cleaning and we left. When we returned there was dust on the shelves that the glasses and dishes are stored on. Considering that there is no other furniture besides the TV stand and couch, I think that it is not too much to expect the "bookcase" that holds the glassware to be dusted.
Window sills - dusty. Floorboards - dusty. I seriously do not get it. Granted, the place is always pretty clean - but we also pick up after ourselves. It's not like anything is really dirty anyway.
I mean, I can come here every two weeks and sweeps the floors for crying out loud.
Oh man, have I got some PMS for you.
I know that my place gets really dusty very quickly. Like the same day that I clean. I also live in a 100 year old building, in a major city, on a really busy street.
I am trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe things just get dusty by my next visit. Somehow I doubt it.
Do not think for a minute that I am not doing a white glove inspection when she leaves. Yeah, I'm an asshole like that.
I will not have someone take advantage of my boyfriend. Not when I know that he pays her what a hotel housekeeper would make in 4 hours. And those guestrooms are pretty clean. I say this from my experience in the industry and can only speak as to the cleanliness of hotels I've worked at.
In 4 hours this place would be spotless. He is not cluttery at all. It's easy to clean. In fact the only things that are out are mine.
I had one of the housekeepers come help me once. I gave her $60 and she protested that it was too much, when she had worked her ass off for like 3 hours and my place had been a pit. It was spotless. She moved the furniture, dusted everything. I did do my bedroom myself and dusted the living room, but she did mostly everything. And honestly - it was a fucking sty. I had been working non-stop for weeks and was a basket case. I organized crap while she cleaned. Seriously, she washed everything, like even the bar glasses that I keep on the counter. That stuff gets dirty if you do not periodically clean them.
Hence my concern for my honey's place. I mean, that kind of thing piles up, and soon all your surfaces can be icky.
I am guessing that she will do a better job today though.
Though I cannot figure out why the laundry is running. I was tossing my dirties directly into the machine all week. I was going to add more to it to do a load. There are like two shirts and 5 pair of nundies in there - why the hell would you run that? Not necessary.
Ugh, I am cranky. And poor Mac - I am always complaining about the dust. Honestly, his place is cleaner that mine usually is. I just feel like she is being paid more that what she is doing. Maybe that is just my expectations though. And really, I am glad that the bathroom fixtures and such get cleaned. It's just those little things that end up piling up and then become a huge chore...that yours truly does not want to have to end up eventually doing.
I also don't know how people look normal when they clean. I am a grubby, nasty looking beast of a woman when I do chores. No question about it. I am wearing crap and feeling like it too.
I call shenanigans on this. This here is the myth:
This right here is the reality of the situation:
And she doesn't even look that bad. Whatever. Marketing nonsense.
Hmmm...maybe I should dress cuter when I clean. I think then I would not want to get down to the nitty gritty though. My problem is that I do not really maintain well. I let things go a bit and then have to work really hard to clean it all. At least I used to be like that. I have gotten much better over the last year or so. But I still look like crap when I am doing it.
Hey, I can't always look glorious.
Arty and The Angry Grinch
My band mate is performing a run at Mary's Attic. He is performing Hedwig with guest artists. They do the opening act and then perform songs from the show with him. Our band finally decided to perform with him in August. I cannot wait! It's a good excuse to learn some new material.
Here's one of my faves from the movie / broadway musical. Hedwig just gets dumped by her husband after she underwent a sex change in order to leave East Germany and go with him to America.
It is actually amazing what a little make up and hair can do to a girl. Do not even think that I am not writing this while waiting for my hair color to set in. A girl needs to keep the hair looking right. Also, I swear to baby Jesus that I do not feel right without make up. I am one of those gals. I need a painted face to look right to myself. Even when I look au naturel, it's because I am a master of nude colors. I may look like I have nothing on, but I do indeed. Though I prefer a it of glam; it's just not always appropriate.
Today I cleaned my place up, as my sweety is coming to visit. I seriously was being negligent. What is with me lately? I think I may be a snare depressed. I have lost a little bit of my sparkle. I am sure I'll get it back. I feel like it's because I have plans and they are on hold for a bit. I am not the most patient person sometimes.
I went to the laundromat since the facilities here are abysmal and actually priced too high. Screw the landlord. I cannot believe how much they want to charge. And there are only two machines. And I have to go up and down five flights and go outside. Whatever. I usually just wait until it piles up and then got to the laundromat. It actually takes less time. In like 2.5 hours or so I am comepletely done, folding and all.
So I am folding what has already dried and this chaos walks in. She yells at the Asian dude sitting by the door. "You could be a gentleman and get the door, you know! You see me here." She apparently fumbles and he kind of giggles. I think he did not get what she said and feels uncomfortable. Then her phone rings and she is all "If it's not the phone, it's something else!"
My god woman, do you hate existence that much?!
To the unfortunate person on the horn: "Who is this? What do you want? Who is this? Who?!" Yikes. What a first class beyotch.
Then her equally cranky friend shows up. They load up their laundry. And, of course, she completely overloads her machine. It is howling. She promptly goes outside to smoke. Awesome. Thanks so much. We are all so happy that you came here. It's interesting to me how one's energy can effect the environment. She was so angry.
Then when I was leaving she was all smiles and talking to me. Huh? I just smiled and said something in agreement (I do not even remember to what) and left.
Anyway, I am showered and the hair is freshly colored. There is no shame in my game. I color my hair. And I have to do it often because it grows quickly, so I do it myself. When my hair is shorter, don't think that I do not wear phoney ponies either. I love them. Love.
I am super hungry, but something tells me we are not going to go on our ritual run to the waffle house down the street when Mac arrives. The waffle shop has super yummy breakfast deals. And by "something", I mean the torrential rain. I am grateful, however, that it did not rain on my way home with my clean clothes in tow. It was misty. I actually ran.
Can you imagine? My chubby ass, running down the street (okay sprinting), with a shopping cart full of clothes....glorious. I am a goddess. Clearly.
Total 180. You know what song always makes me cry?
"No Woman No Cry" by Bob Marley.
Every damn time. Without fail. It's the sentiment; it's his vocal tone. He just gets the waterworks going with that song. Huge bless. He is the one "hippie" I love.
By the way, little darling, don't shed no tears; everything's gonna be alright.
Here's one of my faves from the movie / broadway musical. Hedwig just gets dumped by her husband after she underwent a sex change in order to leave East Germany and go with him to America.
It is actually amazing what a little make up and hair can do to a girl. Do not even think that I am not writing this while waiting for my hair color to set in. A girl needs to keep the hair looking right. Also, I swear to baby Jesus that I do not feel right without make up. I am one of those gals. I need a painted face to look right to myself. Even when I look au naturel, it's because I am a master of nude colors. I may look like I have nothing on, but I do indeed. Though I prefer a it of glam; it's just not always appropriate.
Today I cleaned my place up, as my sweety is coming to visit. I seriously was being negligent. What is with me lately? I think I may be a snare depressed. I have lost a little bit of my sparkle. I am sure I'll get it back. I feel like it's because I have plans and they are on hold for a bit. I am not the most patient person sometimes.
I went to the laundromat since the facilities here are abysmal and actually priced too high. Screw the landlord. I cannot believe how much they want to charge. And there are only two machines. And I have to go up and down five flights and go outside. Whatever. I usually just wait until it piles up and then got to the laundromat. It actually takes less time. In like 2.5 hours or so I am comepletely done, folding and all.
So I am folding what has already dried and this chaos walks in. She yells at the Asian dude sitting by the door. "You could be a gentleman and get the door, you know! You see me here." She apparently fumbles and he kind of giggles. I think he did not get what she said and feels uncomfortable. Then her phone rings and she is all "If it's not the phone, it's something else!"
My god woman, do you hate existence that much?!
To the unfortunate person on the horn: "Who is this? What do you want? Who is this? Who?!" Yikes. What a first class beyotch.
Then her equally cranky friend shows up. They load up their laundry. And, of course, she completely overloads her machine. It is howling. She promptly goes outside to smoke. Awesome. Thanks so much. We are all so happy that you came here. It's interesting to me how one's energy can effect the environment. She was so angry.
Then when I was leaving she was all smiles and talking to me. Huh? I just smiled and said something in agreement (I do not even remember to what) and left.
Anyway, I am showered and the hair is freshly colored. There is no shame in my game. I color my hair. And I have to do it often because it grows quickly, so I do it myself. When my hair is shorter, don't think that I do not wear phoney ponies either. I love them. Love.
I am super hungry, but something tells me we are not going to go on our ritual run to the waffle house down the street when Mac arrives. The waffle shop has super yummy breakfast deals. And by "something", I mean the torrential rain. I am grateful, however, that it did not rain on my way home with my clean clothes in tow. It was misty. I actually ran.
Can you imagine? My chubby ass, running down the street (okay sprinting), with a shopping cart full of clothes....glorious. I am a goddess. Clearly.
Total 180. You know what song always makes me cry?
"No Woman No Cry" by Bob Marley.
Every damn time. Without fail. It's the sentiment; it's his vocal tone. He just gets the waterworks going with that song. Huge bless. He is the one "hippie" I love.
By the way, little darling, don't shed no tears; everything's gonna be alright.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Peach Cobbler With Pecans on Top
"Ugly babies is hard to find...but they out there"
~Adele Givens
If you do not know who Adele Givens is, do yourself and everyone you love a favor and look the woman up and watch some of her stand up. You're welcome.
Okay, here's some for you:
This morning I had to deal with a sight that simply should not be. Lord have mercy. On my way to an interview (which went well, by the by), I am sitting on the bus. After a few stops a lady & stroller hop on board. They are both facing me.
Seriously, I wanted to drop kick this kid. He not only had a snotty face, he was a freaking whiner. I am talking Doug & Wendy here. I mean this kid was just malcontent with his existence. Period. Miserable brat. It was difficult to watch. I am certain that my face was contorted in disdain. I tried not to, but the face has a will of it's own sometimes.
I know I complain a bunch, but I am not unhappy with my life. When people simply loathe to breathe, I cannot deal. And I do not mean people with genuine mental disorders that cause depression or despair, that is a serious condition. I mean otherwise healthy people just being discontent for no reason.
I am allowed to bitch about crap because I am fabulous.
So fabulous, in fact, that a begging vagabond fell completely in love with me today. He was killing me. First he called to me from across the street and then called me his wife. He comes and sits by me at the bus stop and was all "you put a spell on me. What did you get for dinner? I will go get something and you can cook it for me."
I was all "I'm taken"
"I don't mean no disrespect (which they always love to say that shit - and by they I mean men that do this crap in general). But ain't nobody gonna tell me how I can feel about you." He says something about dinner.
I tell him I cannot cook and he looks at me and is like "Quit lying. I know you can put your foot down in the kitchen." Ummmm...thanks for calling me a fat ass.
More babble. I mostly gave one word answers, but was nice enough. Apparently, I made his day because I was kind.
He closes with "You are peach cobbler with pecans on top" Awesome.
Ah, life in the Windy City.
p.s. I noticed that I lost some comments the other day before I was able to respond. Please know I did not delete them.
~Adele Givens
If you do not know who Adele Givens is, do yourself and everyone you love a favor and look the woman up and watch some of her stand up. You're welcome.
Okay, here's some for you:
This morning I had to deal with a sight that simply should not be. Lord have mercy. On my way to an interview (which went well, by the by), I am sitting on the bus. After a few stops a lady & stroller hop on board. They are both facing me.
Seriously, I wanted to drop kick this kid. He not only had a snotty face, he was a freaking whiner. I am talking Doug & Wendy here. I mean this kid was just malcontent with his existence. Period. Miserable brat. It was difficult to watch. I am certain that my face was contorted in disdain. I tried not to, but the face has a will of it's own sometimes.
I know I complain a bunch, but I am not unhappy with my life. When people simply loathe to breathe, I cannot deal. And I do not mean people with genuine mental disorders that cause depression or despair, that is a serious condition. I mean otherwise healthy people just being discontent for no reason.
I am allowed to bitch about crap because I am fabulous.
So fabulous, in fact, that a begging vagabond fell completely in love with me today. He was killing me. First he called to me from across the street and then called me his wife. He comes and sits by me at the bus stop and was all "you put a spell on me. What did you get for dinner? I will go get something and you can cook it for me."
I was all "I'm taken"
"I don't mean no disrespect (which they always love to say that shit - and by they I mean men that do this crap in general). But ain't nobody gonna tell me how I can feel about you." He says something about dinner.
I tell him I cannot cook and he looks at me and is like "Quit lying. I know you can put your foot down in the kitchen." Ummmm...thanks for calling me a fat ass.
More babble. I mostly gave one word answers, but was nice enough. Apparently, I made his day because I was kind.
He closes with "You are peach cobbler with pecans on top" Awesome.
Ah, life in the Windy City.
p.s. I noticed that I lost some comments the other day before I was able to respond. Please know I did not delete them.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Lord Have Mercy
So I was just blog surfing a bit by hitting the "next blog" button up at the top.
Ummm....every single blog was about Jesus. I lie - one was by a Muslim woman. But all the other ones, and I mean like 10 or more in a row were god or christian related.
For real?
I mean, people feel connected and want to write the good word. Good for them. I was just amazed that every single blog I hit was religious based.
Does blogger go to blogs it thinks you want? If so there is definitely something wrong with that system. Where it thought it saw that I wanted that is beyond me. Or is Blogger trying to save me after I posted a picture of the kitchen witch?
Hard to tell.
I had to break down and get antibiotics. I know...right after I posted about holistic health. But that stuff is not going to heal me in the immediate future and I literally cannot breathe. Like I am so stuffed up that not only can I not breathe, but my nose is running. You know what that means? I cannot blow my nose. I have to sit there with a freaking tissue (notice I am trying to behave with my language?) held up against my schnaze.
I am so unbelievably gross right now, I cannot even deal with myself. I have become a mouth breather for crying out loud. It's hard to drink water even.
The silver lining, because you know I always find one, is that - well two things:
1) I was able to breathe for approximately one minute and was cheering, much to the delight of my boyfriend who I was on the horn with. Poor guy has had to deal with me complaining and mouth breathing and trying to blow my nose for days now.
2) The only thing that is at all pleasing and easy to eat is ice cream. So yes, I am indulging. I had coconut yesterday and bought some butter pecan and vanilla (there were on sale - gotta love buy on get one free) when I went to get drugs this evening.
I hate having to take drugs, but I simply could not take it anymore. I hate the side effects that sometimes antibiotics cause, but decided that I need some air.
Which is a great song by Urge Overkill by the way, "Need Some Air". I will have to listen to that tomorrow or right now. Man, they are fantastic. Happy listening, should you decide to.
I couldn't find it for you online, but did find "Sister Havana". Enjoy!
http://youtu.be/yzFlPdHt1Gk
Ummm....every single blog was about Jesus. I lie - one was by a Muslim woman. But all the other ones, and I mean like 10 or more in a row were god or christian related.
For real?
I mean, people feel connected and want to write the good word. Good for them. I was just amazed that every single blog I hit was religious based.
Does blogger go to blogs it thinks you want? If so there is definitely something wrong with that system. Where it thought it saw that I wanted that is beyond me. Or is Blogger trying to save me after I posted a picture of the kitchen witch?
Hard to tell.
I had to break down and get antibiotics. I know...right after I posted about holistic health. But that stuff is not going to heal me in the immediate future and I literally cannot breathe. Like I am so stuffed up that not only can I not breathe, but my nose is running. You know what that means? I cannot blow my nose. I have to sit there with a freaking tissue (notice I am trying to behave with my language?) held up against my schnaze.
I am so unbelievably gross right now, I cannot even deal with myself. I have become a mouth breather for crying out loud. It's hard to drink water even.
The silver lining, because you know I always find one, is that - well two things:
1) I was able to breathe for approximately one minute and was cheering, much to the delight of my boyfriend who I was on the horn with. Poor guy has had to deal with me complaining and mouth breathing and trying to blow my nose for days now.
2) The only thing that is at all pleasing and easy to eat is ice cream. So yes, I am indulging. I had coconut yesterday and bought some butter pecan and vanilla (there were on sale - gotta love buy on get one free) when I went to get drugs this evening.
I hate having to take drugs, but I simply could not take it anymore. I hate the side effects that sometimes antibiotics cause, but decided that I need some air.
Which is a great song by Urge Overkill by the way, "Need Some Air". I will have to listen to that tomorrow or right now. Man, they are fantastic. Happy listening, should you decide to.
I couldn't find it for you online, but did find "Sister Havana". Enjoy!
http://youtu.be/yzFlPdHt1Gk
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Say Something Not Nice Project
The title is my little tribute to BenSmarty's blog, but I am actually about to say something not nice. Not about them, of course.
Let's talk tacky, shall we?
I am super grossed out right now. I was kinda blog hopping just now. I am quite a bit under the weather and have a cold that does not seem to want to go away. It's full blown back now. Jerk. Anyway, I went onto a blog that I follow and then looked at what they had read recently and went to that blog.
That particular blog was not marked as containing adult content although all it talked about was sex in a really tacky way. Or maybe I was just shocked because I was not expecting it. Confession: I am a judgmental person. There I said it. Proceeding...
That was what it was, although I do think she should have the adult content warning on because, well, some teenagers and shit have blogs. As well as families that post pictures of their kids and write about soccer games and stuff. I have seen blogs that were much more innocuous in content that had the adult warning. Regardless, she can certainly write whatever she wants, of course; I simply believe that people should be warned. It's not like I have never read anything like that, after all.
What really got me though is that some tacky ass person that is following her has a splayed vagina as their profile picture.
Really?
Come on. No one wants to see that. If you want to do that go on an adult site. How gross. I don't care whether it's really theirs or just a stock photo. Have some respect for other people. Most are not expecting to see that on a blog site.
I can tell you one thing, if anyone thinks they are going to watch me and have a coochie or schlong as their photo, they are mistaken. I do not want any part of that. Sorry. But not really.
If I choose to look at something like that on purpose, that is fine. It's my choice. To have it flung at me haphazardly is just icky. And to think that some kid could come across it is really uncomfortable. Can you imagine if someone they knew (the person who's blog I went to) went to their blog as was like "why is someone with a coochie picture following my Aunt Sally?" or whatever.
Some people have no class. Jeez.
Let's talk tacky, shall we?
I am super grossed out right now. I was kinda blog hopping just now. I am quite a bit under the weather and have a cold that does not seem to want to go away. It's full blown back now. Jerk. Anyway, I went onto a blog that I follow and then looked at what they had read recently and went to that blog.
That particular blog was not marked as containing adult content although all it talked about was sex in a really tacky way. Or maybe I was just shocked because I was not expecting it. Confession: I am a judgmental person. There I said it. Proceeding...
That was what it was, although I do think she should have the adult content warning on because, well, some teenagers and shit have blogs. As well as families that post pictures of their kids and write about soccer games and stuff. I have seen blogs that were much more innocuous in content that had the adult warning. Regardless, she can certainly write whatever she wants, of course; I simply believe that people should be warned. It's not like I have never read anything like that, after all.
What really got me though is that some tacky ass person that is following her has a splayed vagina as their profile picture.
Really?
Come on. No one wants to see that. If you want to do that go on an adult site. How gross. I don't care whether it's really theirs or just a stock photo. Have some respect for other people. Most are not expecting to see that on a blog site.
I can tell you one thing, if anyone thinks they are going to watch me and have a coochie or schlong as their photo, they are mistaken. I do not want any part of that. Sorry. But not really.
If I choose to look at something like that on purpose, that is fine. It's my choice. To have it flung at me haphazardly is just icky. And to think that some kid could come across it is really uncomfortable. Can you imagine if someone they knew (the person who's blog I went to) went to their blog as was like "why is someone with a coochie picture following my Aunt Sally?" or whatever.
Some people have no class. Jeez.
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