Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Look out your window. You might see a flying pig.

So, I hit a wall with the weight loss.

Actually, I am totally lying. I jumped off the weight loss wagon. I feel the need to be honest since I have been watching a whole lot of Celebrity Rehab lately.

(Totally off the subject but OHMYGOD isn't it wonderful to know that no matter what there is always someone crazier than you are out there? Am I right? Hell to the yeah.)

So anyhoosies, where was I again?? Oh yeah, weight loss.

Oy vay. I have struggled with weight since I was about eight years old. Since then, I can not think of a time in my life where I have not been thinking about how much I weighed or how I looked in my clothes. How sad is that? Even more sad, I don't think I know anyone, especially a girl, who is not thinking of her weight most of the time. Sick. Sick, sick, sick.

Today I have started a new approach to Fat Camp. I'm old. My metabolism is not as cooperative as it used to be. I need to buckle down and push myself. I would love to not be thinking of my weight most of the time. I would love to be comfortable with what I weigh and how my stomach looks while I am in a seated position. Will I ever get to this level of comfort? I don't know. Are any of you at this level? Anyone??

So I am making a huge sacrifice to the Fat Gods. Are you guys ready for this? Are you sitting down? Are you holding on to something secure so you are not BLOWN away by this announcement?


I have given up Diet Coke.

I'll give you guys a minute to let that sink in.

I know, right?? This is HUGE. (That's what she said.) Now keep in mind, today is just day two of no Diet Coke. And it is only 8:30 in the morning. But one day at a time, am I right my friends? My goal is to give it up for at least a week. And then if I make it through the week without killing anyone, I'll go another week. And so on and so forth. I've also given up my beloved vanilla coffee. I'm doing plain coffee with skim milk. Blech. But I need the caffeine. And I am drinking a lot of this flavorless, clear liquid called "water." Have you guys heard of it? It's okay. Not a huge fan, but I can deal with it. Because I am not a quitter.

I mean, other than jumping off the Fat Camp wagon. But I am back on, so give me a break, okay? Sheesh.

Wish me luck. And pray for those near and dear to me. I'm actually a little scared for them.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

I am pretty sure you know who you are...

People seriously piss me off. I mean I would never call myself laid back. Or easy going. And sometimes I have a difficult time accepting people for who they are. Because I can't relate to stupid. Or lazy. Or entitled. I have been accused of being pretty black and white. And yes, sometimes that is true.

But lately it seems I have had numerous run ins with people who just want to mess with my mojo and ruin my joviality. You are one of these people if you....

Drive around for 20 minutes looking for a closer parking space. Just park your effing car.

Tell me to relax when I'm upset. You are not the boss of me. Shut up and keep your opinions to yourself.

Ask me if my handbag is fake.

Stand in line at the grocery store with six or seven exhausted people behind you and wait until the cashier gives you your total before you decide if you are going to write a check or use that nifty little debit machine right in front of your stupid ugly face.

Walk into a practically empty bathroom at work and conveniently select the stall next to mine, even though there are 12 empty stalls around us, and begin making your loud obnoxious morning number two.

Are passive aggressive. I don't care if you are a family member, co-worker, friend or acquaintance. SPEAK YOUR MIND. Be honest about your thoughts and opinions. Let me know where I stand. Stop being an asshole.

Act like a hypocrite. Expect the same thing from yourself that you expect from others. Open your eyes. See your imperfections. Be tolerant. Because believe me, a lot of people are BARELY tolerating you and your array of bullshit.

Talk to me in a condescending tone. Who died and made you king of the world? What makes you a better person than I am? You are a total asshole. I'm a way better person. But I still don't look down on you. I just think you can't help yourself. Sometimes people get passed the asshole gene. They can't control it. It's not your fault. All you can do is try to be less of an asshole. Good luck.

I know right? WOW. Some times you just have to say what's on your mind.

PS. Obviously I am loving the word "asshole" these days.

Friday, June 17, 2011

I'm walking on Sunshine, Whoa Oh!

My friend Chris at From a Whisper to a Scream was kind enough to think I am worthy of this award, which is just about as sweet as you can get. I always say I can't believe people actually stop by to read my endless ramblings, but oh well. I mean I did read three and a half of the Twilight books so who the heck am I to judge what other people read, right?

So here are the rules of this award, and we all know how I am a rule follower when it suits my needs.....

1. Thank the person who gave you the award and link back to them.

2. Tell us something about yourself.

3. Nominate 10 other bloggers.

4. Let them know that you awarded them!

THANK YOU CHRIS!!! I enjoy the way you write, I enjoy the way you view the world and I enjoy that you are a Yankee fan. I look forward to having a beer with you in person some day!

So now I have to tell you something about myself. And it's usually hard to come up with something totally new that I have not already talked about, because let's face it, I am not that interesting. But there is something I have recently discovered. Are you ready?? Okay, here goes....

I am pretty sure I am psychic.

Yes. I know that is a lot to take in. But hear me out.

Ubes has this friend from Germany. We'll call him Gunther. Gunther owned a business here in Arizona. He was studying for his citizenship test. He paid taxes. He contributed to the community. But he was stupid and let his work visa lapse. So a several months ago he was deported. We had not heard from him in months. Sunday night, I had a dream about him. I dreamed he was trying to get a hold of Ubes, wanted Ubes to write a letter on his behalf to help him get back to the USA. Monday while I was at work, Ubes sent me an email saying he just got a Facebook friend request from Gunther. I was all, "WHOA. That is weird." And then Ubes says "He asked if I would write a letter to help him get back to the US." And my mind was officially BLOWN.

I am not doing private readings or anything yet, still waiting to get a handle on my gift. I'll let you know how it goes.

Now for my nominations.....

I gotta start with my girl Sue. Sue is my soul sister. I love her and her many adventures! Thank you Sue!! Thanks for making me smile!!

Chandra - My real life buddy, fellow new beer lover and working mom. You are a doll! I heart you!

Dried on Milk - Stacia tells it like it is. She just had her second gorgeous baby. Go say hi, I am sure she would appreciate you stopping by.

Travis - Who will think this award is super lame but that makes it funnier to nominate him (You don't have to nominate anyone, Buddy. All the eye rolling you are doing right now is gift enough for me.)

Dutch Mac - An American girl married to a Brit boy, raising babies in the Netherlands. What's not to love about that?

Bogart - One of the first blogs I ever read. He had just moved across the country to be with the love of his life. Now they are married. And they just had a baby. It will fill your heart with joy.

And last but certainly not least, Raia, my BFF for almost 20 years - Raia is going through a lot of MAJOR changes in her life. Show her some love. She deserves it.

And there you have it. I know right, three posts in one week??? Can you handle the awesomeness?? My psychic ability says YES! You can!!

Have a fabulous weekend Party People!!

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

I should have danced all night...

Being a parent can suck. No one tells you that. They tell you that it's hard and that you don't get a lot of sleep. They tell you that you will worry a lot and that the kid will bleed you dry emotionally and financially. But they don't tell you that one day you will be so mad at that kid you will want to kick him out of your car and make him walk the four miles home.

So yesterday after work, I picked the kids up from my MIL's and began the drive home. I had two quick errands to run, but Boo fell asleep in the car and I didn't feel like waking her up a million times to get in and out of the car so I decided just to go home. But I needed french bread for the spaghetti I was making for dinner. Ubes had agreed to run my two errands on his way home from work but I was pushing my luck by adding a third stop for him. So I turned to Junior.

"Junior, I have to stop at the store for a loaf of French bread. Will you run in for me and get it so I don't have to wake your sister and make everyone get out of the car?"

He was sitting in the front seat next to me, concentrating on his video game. He was quiet for a second and then, without looking at me, said matter of factly, "No."

"No?" I stared at him in disbelief. "You won't run into the store for me for bread?"

He shook his head, still looking at his game. "No," he said.

I sat there, in the parking space, in shock. This is the kid who is always so helpful. The one who unloads the dishwasher if he notices the dishes are clean. The one who takes out the trash without being told. This is the responsible kid. The one I rely on for so much.

"Why?" I asked. "Why wouldn't you do that for me? Your sister is sleeping, I don't want to drag everyone out of the car for a loaf of bread."

"We can stay in the car," he said.

"No, you can't," I told him. "I'm not leaving you in a hot car with your brother and sister while I run in for bread." (Remind me to tell you about my friend who ran into the drug store for 2 minutes, leaving her teenager in the car with a sleeping baby and had the police show up at her house an hour later.) "Why won't you go get the bread for me?"

"Because I don't want to," he said.

My mouth dropped open.

Now I get it. I have never asked him to run into the store for me by himself before. He's gone into Circle K or QT while I am sitting out front watching from the car, but never a grocery store where I can't see him. He's a cautious first born child who needs to feel comfortable in his surroundings.

But still. How is he going to learn if I don't ask him to do this stuff?? RIGHT?? And he is almost 14 for crying out loud.

"Why don't you want to?" I asked

"Because what if people stare at me and ask me questions?" he said, finally putting the damn game down.

"Junior. I'm asking you to get bread, not beer. No one is going to ask you anything."

"I don't want to do it Mom. Don't make me."

I could feel the blood boiling under my collar bone. I was so angry with him I couldn't even think straight. I got everyone out of the car and went into the store and bought a loaf of bread. And then I got everyone back in the car and started driving home, my knuckles gripping the steering wheel and my teeth clenched. I should have made him get out of the car and go into the store. I was just too shocked and too hurt to think straight. I turned and looked at him. He was back to playing his game, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth while he concentrated.

I reached over and grabbed the game out of his hands, tossing it on the floor of the back seat with my purse. He stared back at me in surprise.

"I can't believe you wouldn't do that for me Junior. I can't believe you wouldn't go into the store for me. I am so hurt and disappointed right now."

"I just didn't want to do it," he said.

"Well you know what Junior? I do stuff I don't want to do every day. I don't want to cook dinner every night because I am tired, but I do it because we have to eat. I don't want to get up at 4:30 in the morning and go to work, but I do it so I can buy you and your brother and your sister clothes and shoes and video games. I don't want to wash your clothes, but I do it because you need to have clean stuff to wear. I don't want to take you to your friend's house because I am tired and I have worked all day, but I do it because I want you to have fun. So the next time you need me to do something for you, you remember this moment. Because you did not make the right choice."

"So what are you saying," he asked. "The next time I need something you won't do it?"

"Nope," I told him.

"Okay, fine." He crossed his arms and shook his head.

And you know what you guys?? It was everything I could do not to pull the car over at that minute, fling his door open, and shove him out with my feet. And If we had not been 4 miles from home in the heat with no water, I may have done it. I don't know. All I know is that I have never been so mad at that kid in his life.

I wasn't this mad when he was two and placed a golf ball on his plastic baseball tee and launched it through my living room window.

I wasn't this mad when he was three and pushed his 5 month old brother off the couch.

I wasn't this mad when he was six and dropped a red PERMANENT magic marker on my off-white carpet. (Hey shut up. We built the house prior to kids and had no idea off-white carpet would turn out to be the nightmare it actually was.)

I wasn't this mad when he, my straight A, Honor Roll, National Junior Honor Society member, brought home his report card with a D in math a year ago.

And I wasn't this mad when he hid that report card from me for a week and told my MIL it was because he was afraid I was going to "beat" him.

He is so rarely disrespectful. So rarely disagreeable. So rarely difficult. And I know this may be only the beginning. And I think that's what I'm afraid of. How do you successfully raise a teenager without killing him?

And I know I have to pick my battles. So maybe that's why I didn't throw a five dollar bill at him and tell him to get his ass out of the car and into the store. But what put me over the edge was his defiance. The "okay fine" and arms crossing thing. I wanted to grab a handful of his curly hair and rip it out by the root.

Is that weird for a mom to feel that way? Because some animals eat their young, you know.

And I am not looking for parenting advice, okay. I am just ranting here. I know what I should have done. And maybe I'm over reacting just a little. I mean it was a loaf of bread for crap sake. But I am still really pissed at the kid. And I want an apology. And I am also really tempted to take him to the drug store and force him to buy me a box of tampons just to teach him a lesson.

But I won't. Because I'm not a monster. But oh, how tempting.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Every day is an adventure with April

I don't write about work a whole lot anymore. I rarely have the kind of interactions with people that I had at the bank. If I interact with customers now, it's usually over the phone. I have the most boring job in the world. Lucky for me, there's a few thousand people in this building to give me fun stuff to share with you guys.

So..... A few weeks ago I was walking to the ladies room. The ladies room is kind of far from my desk, down a long aisle between cube walls and real walls. It's a straight shot. So as I walked toward the bathroom, I saw a woman exit. She was wearing a light, fluttery skirt, probably around knee length. Perfect for summer. And just as I was admiring that adorable skirt from afar, the owner of the skirt turned her back to me and began walking away from the bathroom.

And to my sheer horror, I realized her skirt was tucked into her panties. Her thong panties. And her entire ass was exposed to God and everybody. I started walking faster, hoping to catch her. But you guys, she was like 6 cubicle aisles away from me. Way too far to holler out "Excuse me, your ass is showing." And I didn't know this woman. I didn't want to humiliate her. But OHMYGOD how do you not suddenly feel like things are a little breezy back there??? I mean really. So after about 8 steps I gave up, she was too far for me to catch up to. You're on your own sweetie. No one can save you now. You should have been more careful and looked in the mirror before leaving the bathroom.

It was a pretty nice ass though. Not gonna lie. Smooth, no ripples. She obviously did a lot of whatever it is you do to make your butt look really round. If I had her ass, I'd have my skirt tucked into my panties "accidentally" all the time. Just sayin'.

Last week I was speaking to a customer on the phone. He sounded like a surfer dude. I totally thought I was talking to Crush from Finding Nemo. Shah. So at the end of the conversation, he says to me "You sound really pretty by the way."

Really? You're hitting on me over the phone, dude? So I replied, "Ummmm, thanks?" And then I moved on trying to keep him focused on business. But the dude wouldn't let it go.

"Where are you located?" he asked.

"Phoenix," I replied.

"Oh you should totally come visit me in Venice Beach," he said.

"Really?" I asked. "Can I bring my husband, my three kids and my stretch marks?"

The flirting stopped there.

The other morning, I was in the cafeteria getting some coffee. A woman walked up to the guy at the grill, held up one of the little menu/order forms and this is the conversation that ensued:

She: Excuse me?
He: Yeah?
She: When you say "croissant sandwich," what does that mean?
He: (blink blink)
She: I mean, does it come on a croissant?
He: (blink blink) Uuuuummmm, yes. It comes on a croissant.
She (obviously disappointed): Oh.
He: (still blinking)
She: Well, can I get it on something other than a croissant?
He: Yes. But then it's not a croissant sandwich.
She: Oh. You're right. I never thought of it that way.
He: (Eyes wide, staring)
She: Hmmmm. Okay, never mind. (Huge sigh)
He (looking at me): Did that really just happen?
Me: Yes it did.
He (shaking head): Unbelievable.
Me: I'm really happy you shared this moment with me.
He (laughing): Yeah, me too.

So there you go. A take your reader to work day, courtesy of yours truly. No need to thank me. This is what I do for you. I keep my eyes open, constantly looking for new stuff to entertain you. You are welcome.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

More stuff you probably didn't know about me but is further proof I am a weirdo...

I like to eat Red Vines at the movies. Only I just don't eat my Red Vines like a normal person, I tie the end in a knot and bite it off, and then tie the remaining piece in second knot and eat that. And I have done it that way for so long, I don't even realize I am doing it. But I can't eat licorice without tying it in a knot. Life would be so much easier if they sold the Red Vine in a knot form.

I hate wasting stuff. If I buy something, like a new brand of toothpast or lotion, and I hate it, I will continue to use it until it's gone because I don't want to waste it. I think that's why I tend to be pretty brand loyal about stuff. If I try something new, it's a big deal.

I'm anal about the recycling. No really. If I see something in the recycle that doesn't belong, I freak out. My kids are notorious for putting paper plates in the recycle. They don't get it. "It's paper," they say with a confused look on their face. Oy vay. And vice versa with seeing something in the trash that can be recycled. I freak. Like that one bottle in the trash is going to make a difference. But who knows. Maybe it would.

I feel uncomfortable when I am out in public without earrings or painted toenails. Yet I have no issues with not wearing make up.

I will never ever ever drink a non-diet soda. Because I am 100% convinced it will cause me to gain 10 pounds. I have no issues with eating pizza, chocolate, or just about anything that has been deep fried.

I don't like Hershey's kisses. Unwrapping them is too much work.

My feelings get hurt when someone stops following me on Twitter.

Whenever I take napkins from a dispenser in a restaurant, I grab as many as I can. I'll take a giant stack 2 inches thick. I don't know why. It might be the mom in me. But I don't throw them away if I don't use them. I have lots in my car and the entire top drawer of my desk is full of napkins. I'm a napkin hoarder. But I'm also an anal recycler (which sounds a lot weirder than I thought it would) so it makes it okay.

Monday, June 6, 2011


According to my stats this year, I have only posted 21 times. That is pathetic. Puh-thet-ic. Part of the problem is my computer was down forever and I hate posting on my netbook because I hit the mouse square thingy with my thumb and it just effs everything up and I have to start whole paragraphs over and then I'm in a pissy mood and it spoils what I was writing about. Is that even more pathetic?

The other part of the problem is I have been so busy. And I am just trying to do more things with my kids and spend less time on the computer, you know. They are growing up so fast and I feel like it's passing me by.

And the other part of the problem is sometimes I am just tired. Tired of talking about something or tired of thinking about stuff. Or just sick and tired. You know? I should have stayed anonymous. How many times have I said that???

But one of the things I really want to say is thank you. So many of you reached out to me after my last post just to be kind, and I was really touched. So thank you for being so thoughtful. It means more than I can express.

I don't really want to get into all the details, but basically I found out why my brother was trying to reach me. His father died. And even though he was not my father, he was an incredibly huge part of my life and he always treated me like I was his own daughter. So I was sad and shocked and broken hearted.

He was a special man. A tall and handsome cowboy whose eyes crinkled in the corners when he laughed or smiled. He taught me to ride a horse and to two step and to make sun tea. He put me in ballet when I was seven because he was too worried I would be a tomboy since I was spending all my free time on the horses and trying to learn how to spit. He wanted me to be a lady.

Yet he didn't allow me to be afraid when I fell off my horse. I can still hear his deep voice. "You have 5 minutes to cry and then get back up there." I have carried these words with me my entire life. They apply to everything I do.

So as of right now, my brother and I are talking. Well, texting really. I'm taking it slow. He's sad and lonely and in my heart I don't think it's right to turn him away. Yet I've got both eyes wide open and I'm not being stupid. We'll see how it goes. His fiance seems nice. She's very pretty and is very kind and supportive of him. That makes me happy. And yes, I feel like an asshole that I was so skeptical in the beginning. We'll see what happens from here.

Regardless, I am thankful for my amazing girlfriends, who listened to me and let me cry and supported me. And to all my blog buddies who make me smile and laugh.

And to my amazing husband. Who is so incredibly supportive and sweet. And after this many years of putting up with my craziness, he knows when to talk and when to listen, and most importantly, when to make a joke and fill my heart with joy.

I'm a lucky girl.