For Rochelle, from The Journal:
"Dad is being so mean to me! He called me a smart alec tonight. (Psh) Whatever an 'alec' is. (Yes, because that wasn't smart Alec at all...wonder why he would've called me that. Meanie.)
"I'm SO upset! Last night, I closed with Brian (A guy from work who I swore to marry one day...never happened.), and we got into a big fight. See, first, he ate my cookie...." What???
***************************************************************
Other Randomness:
:::walking back to class from a meeting::: "Wait, there were five of us, where did the other person go?...one, two, three, four...Oh...yeah, we're five people. Good thing I chose accounting." -- Me
My four year old niece ten minutes after my eight year old lost a tooth -- "Aunt Mandy, I keep pulling and pulling, but why won't my tooth come out?"
After School:
Warrick: Mommy, I'm the best at science in my whole class!
Huston: And I'm the fastest reader!
Madilynn: And I'm the best at being have! (She thinks when I tell her to behave, I'm saying to be have.)
My niece: And I'm the shortest!
Emma's teacher: We finally got assigned seating. With four year olds, it takes some time because some personalities just don't need to sit near each other.
Me: Emma, I saw where you sit at school.
Emma: Yeah, I sit on ducks, but I used to sit on boats.
Me: :::I knew that teacher was talking about my kid!::: Were you fighting with someone?
Emma: :::The kid who can kick anybody's ass::: Well, some kid pushed me.
Me: So...what did you do?
Emma: Nothing. Until the next day and I punched him.
Is it wrong that I'm a little proud of this? Yes. The answer is yes. So I only cheered for her silently in my head, while I told my daughter that we don't hit anyone, even if they have it coming.
Aug 30, 2010
Forgo-ing
I got to go to my kids' school today for "Parent Orientation". This has been the final straw for me on any type of orientation. I hate it. A lot.
When I started school (this time around), I spent the first two weeks on orientation. I got two handbooks. Then I had to take a class on what was in the handbooks. Then some tests on what I learned in the handbooks. Then four videos in which they pretty much read the handbooks word-for-word. Also a couple of PowerPoint presentations, again, word for word what was in the original handbooks.
When I put my son in daycare, I had to watch two more videos on daycare policies, and received two more handbooks.
When I put my kids in school this year, I got five handbooks. When they started classes, all five of them came home with another class-specific handbook. Tonight, I got to go listen to each teacher read the handbook.
DO PEOPLE NOT KNOW HOW TO READ?!?!?!
Sorry.
But really.
Can those of us who know how to read just sign something that says we have read and understand the stupid handbook, and we are willing to accept the consequences if we chose to forgo having it read to us? Please? Because I've wasted nearly three weeks now learning things I already knew because I had already READ the information GIVEN TO ME.
Also, forgo is a word we really should use more.
"I'd like to forgo informational videos, please."
"Can we just forgo being read to if we're not in Kindergarten?"
"I'm gonna' forgo this ticket, officer, but thanks!"
"I would like to retroactively forgo the last ten years of my life, please. Thanks so much!"
When I started school (this time around), I spent the first two weeks on orientation. I got two handbooks. Then I had to take a class on what was in the handbooks. Then some tests on what I learned in the handbooks. Then four videos in which they pretty much read the handbooks word-for-word. Also a couple of PowerPoint presentations, again, word for word what was in the original handbooks.
When I put my son in daycare, I had to watch two more videos on daycare policies, and received two more handbooks.
When I put my kids in school this year, I got five handbooks. When they started classes, all five of them came home with another class-specific handbook. Tonight, I got to go listen to each teacher read the handbook.
DO PEOPLE NOT KNOW HOW TO READ?!?!?!
Sorry.
But really.
Can those of us who know how to read just sign something that says we have read and understand the stupid handbook, and we are willing to accept the consequences if we chose to forgo having it read to us? Please? Because I've wasted nearly three weeks now learning things I already knew because I had already READ the information GIVEN TO ME.
Also, forgo is a word we really should use more.
"I'd like to forgo informational videos, please."
"Can we just forgo being read to if we're not in Kindergarten?"
"I'm gonna' forgo this ticket, officer, but thanks!"
"I would like to retroactively forgo the last ten years of my life, please. Thanks so much!"
Aug 29, 2010
A Letter to the Guy Who Beat Gordita
Dear New Boyfriend,
You aren't really new, but it's taken me awhile to get to know you. I'm glad I finally did. You are my best friend, and the person I most like to spend time with. You have always been there for me, and :::insert other cliches here:::.
I don't get to see you very often, and it's a little too embarrassing to date you in public, but you know that I would if I could, right?
Our relationship is so hard to explain, and I know it's a little damaging to both of us, but I don't want to end it. You're amazing and wonderful and I love you. You make me smile, and I love the nights we have together. When the winter comes, I suppose you'll be leaving me, or I'll drown my sorrow in hot chocolate, because winter isn't really our time, is it? I'll treasure the summer, though, baby, and I promise to always write corny and sentimental things about you in my journal forevermore.
Love,
Me
You aren't really new, but it's taken me awhile to get to know you. I'm glad I finally did. You are my best friend, and the person I most like to spend time with. You have always been there for me, and :::insert other cliches here:::.
I don't get to see you very often, and it's a little too embarrassing to date you in public, but you know that I would if I could, right?
Our relationship is so hard to explain, and I know it's a little damaging to both of us, but I don't want to end it. You're amazing and wonderful and I love you. You make me smile, and I love the nights we have together. When the winter comes, I suppose you'll be leaving me, or I'll drown my sorrow in hot chocolate, because winter isn't really our time, is it? I'll treasure the summer, though, baby, and I promise to always write corny and sentimental things about you in my journal forevermore.
Love,
Me
The Post is to Keep Her Reading, The Subject is Because She Doesn't Pay Me Enough
Because my third sister has worked my blog into her nightly ritual, and because I'd hate for her to lose sleep, and because she thinks this is my job, and because she doesn't pay me anything at all to do this...this one is for Rochelle...
Why I love smokers... (lol @ Rochelle...but please keep reading!)
I know that smoking is bad for you. It's also bad for me. Also, bad for the world, pretty much. And it probably endangers things, and pollutes things, and pisses people off. So, for allll my readers (all three of you, I know you're out there!) who don't ever comment, and think that today is the day to give me comment-crack, please do so. I was going to ask you not to tell me how unhealthy and un-PC this is, but you know what? Say what you want, because crack is crack, yo.
Smokers are chill. I love chill. Stress = headaches. Chill = smiles. Chill smiles + smoking = smiles that last forever because of the awesome wrinkles you get way too early when you smoke. (Yes, smoking is baaaad.) Who doesn't want a permanent smile? I know I do.
Smokers are also social. I know you think they aren't, because they're always standing away from the crowd, preferring to puff away in silence rather than join the group. They aren't being anti-social, they'll talk to anyone else to wants to join them, as long as that person isn't telling them why they shouldn't smoke. They are actually being nice, because they know the smoke will bother people, so they take it away. So see? Even though they miss out on a lot (smoking is baaaaad), they aren't anti-social at all.
Smokers will do anything for you. If you walk up to a smoker and ask for a cig or a light, they will go to great lengths to get you what you want. If you smoke menthols and they don't, they will offer you one of theirs and also tell you who to ask for a menthol. If their lighter is in their car, they will go fetch it. They will huff and puff all the way there and back (because...smoking is baaaaad), but they'll come back with a lighter.
Smokers are rebels. It takes guts to smoke these days, what with all the cancer, and the people hating you, and also being banned from everywhere. They deal with judgemental looks everywhere they go (again, we know, smoking is bad), and even random strangers telling them how to live their lives, so you know there has to be a little rebel in every smoker. (There is a big rebel in me, but I shut her up with ciggies and beer.) (Also, various drugs and parties and things.) (Also, please don't bad-mommy me, because I'm exaggerating.) (Or maybe I'm not...shut UP, you don't know me.)
So, that's why I like smokers. I sorta' like other people, too. It's a ratio thing, and I can't explain it lest I blow you away with my awesome math skilz.
Why I love smokers... (lol @ Rochelle...but please keep reading!)
I know that smoking is bad for you. It's also bad for me. Also, bad for the world, pretty much. And it probably endangers things, and pollutes things, and pisses people off. So, for allll my readers (all three of you, I know you're out there!) who don't ever comment, and think that today is the day to give me comment-crack, please do so. I was going to ask you not to tell me how unhealthy and un-PC this is, but you know what? Say what you want, because crack is crack, yo.
Smokers are chill. I love chill. Stress = headaches. Chill = smiles. Chill smiles + smoking = smiles that last forever because of the awesome wrinkles you get way too early when you smoke. (Yes, smoking is baaaad.) Who doesn't want a permanent smile? I know I do.
Smokers are also social. I know you think they aren't, because they're always standing away from the crowd, preferring to puff away in silence rather than join the group. They aren't being anti-social, they'll talk to anyone else to wants to join them, as long as that person isn't telling them why they shouldn't smoke. They are actually being nice, because they know the smoke will bother people, so they take it away. So see? Even though they miss out on a lot (smoking is baaaaad), they aren't anti-social at all.
Smokers will do anything for you. If you walk up to a smoker and ask for a cig or a light, they will go to great lengths to get you what you want. If you smoke menthols and they don't, they will offer you one of theirs and also tell you who to ask for a menthol. If their lighter is in their car, they will go fetch it. They will huff and puff all the way there and back (because...smoking is baaaaad), but they'll come back with a lighter.
Smokers are rebels. It takes guts to smoke these days, what with all the cancer, and the people hating you, and also being banned from everywhere. They deal with judgemental looks everywhere they go (again, we know, smoking is bad), and even random strangers telling them how to live their lives, so you know there has to be a little rebel in every smoker. (There is a big rebel in me, but I shut her up with ciggies and beer.) (Also, various drugs and parties and things.) (Also, please don't bad-mommy me, because I'm exaggerating.) (Or maybe I'm not...shut UP, you don't know me.)
So, that's why I like smokers. I sorta' like other people, too. It's a ratio thing, and I can't explain it lest I blow you away with my awesome math skilz.
Aug 27, 2010
Police, Field Trips, and Why Emma gets Left at School from Now On...
I took the kids to the police station today on the way home from school. I thought this would be a great way to break up the screaming/fighting/murdering that goes on in the back seat all the way home, and also be a chance for the kids to learn something. We all piled out of the car, went inside and sat in the lobby.
Officer: Ma'am, can I help you with something?
Me: :::looks closely at the officer::: Prolly not...got any big scary officers back there we can talk to?
Officer: Is there something you need help with?
Me: Yes, but I just don't think you're quite the right public servant...I need someone scary.
Officer: Ma'am, I'm not sure what you think you're doing, but if you are here for a reason, you can tell me about it and I will direct you to the right person.
Me: Well, my kids were trying to kill each other on the way home from school. After my ears started bleeding and I was tempted to just get out and let my fourth grader take the wheel, I decided to bring them here.
Officer: We don't arrest children.
Me: :::puppy face::: pwwweeeease????
Officer: :::sighs::: I think you need to leave.
Me: Wait! I've seen those talk shows where you guys get a big scary officer and have him yell at the bad kids until they cry and then they change their ways and their moms are so happy and relaxed after that...can I get some of that?
Officer: This isn't a drive-through.
Me: Aren't you a public servant? Well....I'm part of the public, right? So fix my kid, I order thee!
Officer: Ma'am, if I have to go get a big scary officer, he will be coming after you, not the kids.
Me: Oh. :::sad face:::
Officer: :::taps foot:::
Me: Ok, wait, I have one more question...
Officer: ...
Me: Oh, well, uh, see, my daughter Emma? She screams all the way home, and she's like, unnaturally loud. I thought maybe you could give her a job? Help her work out some of her frustrations? She's four, but she's very precocious.
Officer: A job?
Me: ....yes?
Officer: Are you serious?
Me: yes?
Officer: You want your four year old little girl to be a police officer? I'm calling CPS...
Me: No! :::grabs the phone from him and hangs it up::: :::chuckles::: Of course not! I thought she could be a siren.
Officer: A...siren?
Me: Yeah, like the thing that makes all the noise when you need people to get out of the way? She's good at that. When we left the school today, we didn't have to worry about traffic because she was pulling people over all the way here.
Officer: Are you talking about (my kids' school) right when it got out? Because we did have an emergency in that area, and there was a minivan that would not get out of the officer's way. Would that have been you?
Me: No, I saw that van, it wasn't me. I was in the van who pulled that officer over because even he thought I was an emergency vehicle.
Officer: You need to go. Now.
Me: So, we'll just get back to you on the job...? No?
Officer: Ma'am, can I help you with something?
Me: :::looks closely at the officer::: Prolly not...got any big scary officers back there we can talk to?
Officer: Is there something you need help with?
Me: Yes, but I just don't think you're quite the right public servant...I need someone scary.
Officer: Ma'am, I'm not sure what you think you're doing, but if you are here for a reason, you can tell me about it and I will direct you to the right person.
Me: Well, my kids were trying to kill each other on the way home from school. After my ears started bleeding and I was tempted to just get out and let my fourth grader take the wheel, I decided to bring them here.
Officer: We don't arrest children.
Me: :::puppy face::: pwwweeeease????
Officer: :::sighs::: I think you need to leave.
Me: Wait! I've seen those talk shows where you guys get a big scary officer and have him yell at the bad kids until they cry and then they change their ways and their moms are so happy and relaxed after that...can I get some of that?
Officer: This isn't a drive-through.
Me: Aren't you a public servant? Well....I'm part of the public, right? So fix my kid, I order thee!
Officer: Ma'am, if I have to go get a big scary officer, he will be coming after you, not the kids.
Me: Oh. :::sad face:::
Officer: :::taps foot:::
Me: Ok, wait, I have one more question...
Officer: ...
Me: Oh, well, uh, see, my daughter Emma? She screams all the way home, and she's like, unnaturally loud. I thought maybe you could give her a job? Help her work out some of her frustrations? She's four, but she's very precocious.
Officer: A job?
Me: ....yes?
Officer: Are you serious?
Me: yes?
Officer: You want your four year old little girl to be a police officer? I'm calling CPS...
Me: No! :::grabs the phone from him and hangs it up::: :::chuckles::: Of course not! I thought she could be a siren.
Officer: A...siren?
Me: Yeah, like the thing that makes all the noise when you need people to get out of the way? She's good at that. When we left the school today, we didn't have to worry about traffic because she was pulling people over all the way here.
Officer: Are you talking about (my kids' school) right when it got out? Because we did have an emergency in that area, and there was a minivan that would not get out of the officer's way. Would that have been you?
Me: No, I saw that van, it wasn't me. I was in the van who pulled that officer over because even he thought I was an emergency vehicle.
Officer: You need to go. Now.
Me: So, we'll just get back to you on the job...? No?
Aug 25, 2010
Another Conversation with my Other Niece
Me: Why are you being bad for your mommy?
Boo: Because I'm not watching a movie. (She was supposed to be watching a movie)
Me: Can you do me a favor?
Boo: Mm-hmm
Me: When I can't think of anything to write, can I just blog our little conversations?
Boo: Mm-hmm
Me: Can I write the funny things you say?
Boo: Mm-hmm
Me: Ok...say something funny.
Boo: ....
Boo: Mm-hmm?
Me: Boo, I don't have anything to say. Can you say something funny?
Boo: Mm-hmm
Me: That's not funny enough for my blog.
Boo: ... :::staring at me with a look that clearly says she knows I've lost my mind::: Mm-hmm
Me: Boo, you talk more than any two year old I have ever known...you haven't stopped talking for at least a year. Don't you have anything you want to say?
Boo: Mm-hmm
Me: :::looks around to make sure her mom isn't watching::: BOO! SAY SOMETHING FUNNY!!! NOW, DAMMIT!
Boo: ...Mm-hmm?
:::five minutes later:::
Boo: :::to her mom::: Aunt Mandy was saying dammit, and that is a very bad sin!
Boo: Because I'm not watching a movie. (She was supposed to be watching a movie)
Me: Can you do me a favor?
Boo: Mm-hmm
Me: When I can't think of anything to write, can I just blog our little conversations?
Boo: Mm-hmm
Me: Can I write the funny things you say?
Boo: Mm-hmm
Me: Ok...say something funny.
Boo: ....
Boo: Mm-hmm?
Me: Boo, I don't have anything to say. Can you say something funny?
Boo: Mm-hmm
Me: That's not funny enough for my blog.
Boo: ... :::staring at me with a look that clearly says she knows I've lost my mind::: Mm-hmm
Me: Boo, you talk more than any two year old I have ever known...you haven't stopped talking for at least a year. Don't you have anything you want to say?
Boo: Mm-hmm
Me: :::looks around to make sure her mom isn't watching::: BOO! SAY SOMETHING FUNNY!!! NOW, DAMMIT!
Boo: ...Mm-hmm?
:::five minutes later:::
Boo: :::to her mom::: Aunt Mandy was saying dammit, and that is a very bad sin!
Aug 24, 2010
Women with Big Brains
I was shopping today and overheard a conversation between two women that made me want to rethink the entire Girl Power thing.
First Woman: Well, I don't know...he said if I get back together with him, he'll get me a boob job."
Second Woman: Really? Awwww...How swEEEeeeet!
First Woman: I know, right?
Second Woman: So are you going to break up with the other one?
First Woman: Well, yeah.
So, all you guys who are trying to win back your woman, think of something you've always wanted and offer to buy it for her. She'll think your "swEEEeeeet", and come running back.
Really, women? Is it so sweet of this guy? "Hey, if you dump the new guy and come back to me, I'll pay a few thou to fix your 'flaws'...maybe that would make you feel secure that I'm not going to cheat on you, so you'll stop snooping, and I can do whatever I want because you won't be able to see past your own chest! Plus I'll get access to them whenever I want because I paid for them! Win/win, right? Right?" What's not to love about this deal? Seriously. What?
Woman: "Oh, goodie! I get built in floating devices, nothing will ever fit me correctly, and nobody will ever take me seriously, because they don't realize I have a brain located roughly one foot above my feedy things! What more could a girl ask for?!?!?!"
Sheesh...I was embarrassed for all of us.
Here's a list of some other things that may help win your girl back:
First Woman: Well, I don't know...he said if I get back together with him, he'll get me a boob job."
Second Woman: Really? Awwww...How swEEEeeeet!
First Woman: I know, right?
Second Woman: So are you going to break up with the other one?
First Woman: Well, yeah.
So, all you guys who are trying to win back your woman, think of something you've always wanted and offer to buy it for her. She'll think your "swEEEeeeet", and come running back.
Really, women? Is it so sweet of this guy? "Hey, if you dump the new guy and come back to me, I'll pay a few thou to fix your 'flaws'...maybe that would make you feel secure that I'm not going to cheat on you, so you'll stop snooping, and I can do whatever I want because you won't be able to see past your own chest! Plus I'll get access to them whenever I want because I paid for them! Win/win, right? Right?" What's not to love about this deal? Seriously. What?
Woman: "Oh, goodie! I get built in floating devices, nothing will ever fit me correctly, and nobody will ever take me seriously, because they don't realize I have a brain located roughly one foot above my feedy things! What more could a girl ask for?!?!?!"
Sheesh...I was embarrassed for all of us.
Here's a list of some other things that may help win your girl back:
- lawn care equipment
- tickets to sporting events
- neckties
- golf clubs
- beer of the month, yo
Aug 23, 2010
School is an A-Hole
I miss the good old days (before I was alive) when people were just good at stuff and that's what they got paid for. When school was an option. Because I hate school.
I was home sick today, which means that I have to make up the hours I should have been there or I won't get my full grade. Being sick is not an excused absence, even though they ask that you please refrain from germing up the classroom. I'm gonna' try to limp my way through tomorrow so I won't be more behind, but I'm wondering if they'll let me bring my bed.
Also, my kids hate school. They are so intimidated by this huge snobby school they're going to, and I don't really know what to do about it. The oldest wants to go back a grade, because the teacher moves too fast. Is it selfish that I want him to stay where he is because she is my favorite teacher any of them have ever had? Prolly.
The second son loves school, but he's "gifted" (whatever that's supposed to mean), so of course he loves school. It's smart-kid crack for him.
The third son is having fun with his friends, but he's upset that he's not making more friends. Am I wrong for telling him that I don't really want him being friends with those kids anyway? (again, prolly)His best friend is in his class, so he's happy with that, but he's used to being a big fish in a little pond at his old school. He doesn't really know how to handle people not automatically wanting to be his friend. So of course, there must be something wrong with those other kids, because I agree...who doesn't want to be his friend? He's like the coolest kid ever.
My kindergarten daughter doesn't like her teacher and can't ever find her classroom, which is right inside the front door of the school. I'm thinking she gets scared when she goes inside and then forgets what she's doing. She's also not making friends as easily as she did last year. What's wrong with these kids?
The pre-k super-aggressive daughter is doing awesome. She likes it, she tells her teachers what's up, she takes care of her cousin who is in the other pre-k class...she's all over school. She's been very busy writing new curriculum and coming up with better schedules, as a matter of fact. I should let her shadow each of the older kids for a day. She'd beat up anyone who doesn't want to be friends and tell the teachers to slow it down a little. She'd be all over that.
I'm thinking of farming from here on out. Who cares about readin' and 'rithmetic when your kids are being tortured on a daily basis? Not me. I think there's a better way.
I was home sick today, which means that I have to make up the hours I should have been there or I won't get my full grade. Being sick is not an excused absence, even though they ask that you please refrain from germing up the classroom. I'm gonna' try to limp my way through tomorrow so I won't be more behind, but I'm wondering if they'll let me bring my bed.
Also, my kids hate school. They are so intimidated by this huge snobby school they're going to, and I don't really know what to do about it. The oldest wants to go back a grade, because the teacher moves too fast. Is it selfish that I want him to stay where he is because she is my favorite teacher any of them have ever had? Prolly.
The second son loves school, but he's "gifted" (whatever that's supposed to mean), so of course he loves school. It's smart-kid crack for him.
The third son is having fun with his friends, but he's upset that he's not making more friends. Am I wrong for telling him that I don't really want him being friends with those kids anyway? (again, prolly)His best friend is in his class, so he's happy with that, but he's used to being a big fish in a little pond at his old school. He doesn't really know how to handle people not automatically wanting to be his friend. So of course, there must be something wrong with those other kids, because I agree...who doesn't want to be his friend? He's like the coolest kid ever.
My kindergarten daughter doesn't like her teacher and can't ever find her classroom, which is right inside the front door of the school. I'm thinking she gets scared when she goes inside and then forgets what she's doing. She's also not making friends as easily as she did last year. What's wrong with these kids?
The pre-k super-aggressive daughter is doing awesome. She likes it, she tells her teachers what's up, she takes care of her cousin who is in the other pre-k class...she's all over school. She's been very busy writing new curriculum and coming up with better schedules, as a matter of fact. I should let her shadow each of the older kids for a day. She'd beat up anyone who doesn't want to be friends and tell the teachers to slow it down a little. She'd be all over that.
I'm thinking of farming from here on out. Who cares about readin' and 'rithmetic when your kids are being tortured on a daily basis? Not me. I think there's a better way.
Aug 22, 2010
Favorite Quotes From the Weekend
"I just wanna'...put you on my spaghetti!" -- the woman in the bathroom who tried to make out with everyone
A conversation with my (other) niece:
Me: Why were you being bad at church?
Boo: Because my daddy put me with the spiders.
Me: You're daddy put you with the spiders???
Boo: Yes. :::serious nodding and finger wagging::: That is a sin.
Everyone within earshot: :::rofl:::
Me: Yes, I think it is. :::scandalized glance at her daddy:::
Boo: :::pointing to crucifix::: What is that on Jesus?
Me: Those are nails. Do you know why He died on the cross?
Boo: Yes, we saved Him and He went to Heaven.
Me: Well, He saved us so we could go to Heaven. Do you think he loves you very much to do that for you?
Boo: Yes.
Me: So maybe if you're good in church that would be a good way to say you love Him?
Boo: ...
Me: You think?
Boo: Yes, but...Aunt Manny?
Me: Yes :::feeling all smug and good-auntish:::
Boo: Is Jesus wearing panties?
Luckily, when I have writer's block, I always have kids around me.
A conversation with my (other) niece:
Me: Why were you being bad at church?
Boo: Because my daddy put me with the spiders.
Me: You're daddy put you with the spiders???
Boo: Yes. :::serious nodding and finger wagging::: That is a sin.
Everyone within earshot: :::rofl:::
Me: Yes, I think it is. :::scandalized glance at her daddy:::
Boo: :::pointing to crucifix::: What is that on Jesus?
Me: Those are nails. Do you know why He died on the cross?
Boo: Yes, we saved Him and He went to Heaven.
Me: Well, He saved us so we could go to Heaven. Do you think he loves you very much to do that for you?
Boo: Yes.
Me: So maybe if you're good in church that would be a good way to say you love Him?
Boo: ...
Me: You think?
Boo: Yes, but...Aunt Manny?
Me: Yes :::feeling all smug and good-auntish:::
Boo: Is Jesus wearing panties?
Luckily, when I have writer's block, I always have kids around me.
Aug 20, 2010
First Week of School
I have been away from my computer for two whole days because I had to start school. Also, the kids had to start school, and it's been nuts. School is kind of a bummer, because they want you there at a certain time, and they think they should tell you what to do and when to do it...they operate on their schedule only, like school is Important, and naps are not. Psh.
I like everything about school except the driving and all the being told what to do. After I go to class, I go pick up my kids at their school, where all five of their teachers get to tell me what else to do. Then I go home and make dinner and then pretty much fall asleep at my keyboard after trying to think of something to write about.
I keep thinking about the olden days, like last week, then I wish for Christmas Break. I'm not kidding, the first thing I did during my first day of class was check the schedule to see when our first break would be. (Labor Day, yo....my house will be rockin' with lazy.) Then I got very jealous because my kids' school is letting them have a second day off that I don't get. So they get a four day weekend when I'm stuck with three measly days...not fair. If you ask me, that's what's wrong with kids today...too many four day weekends and not enough sit down and work. It's all good, though, because I'm going to make them cook and clean while I'm at school...call it Role-Reversal Day. Then they can bring me cookies and ask me how my day went.
I like everything about school except the driving and all the being told what to do. After I go to class, I go pick up my kids at their school, where all five of their teachers get to tell me what else to do. Then I go home and make dinner and then pretty much fall asleep at my keyboard after trying to think of something to write about.
I keep thinking about the olden days, like last week, then I wish for Christmas Break. I'm not kidding, the first thing I did during my first day of class was check the schedule to see when our first break would be. (Labor Day, yo....my house will be rockin' with lazy.) Then I got very jealous because my kids' school is letting them have a second day off that I don't get. So they get a four day weekend when I'm stuck with three measly days...not fair. If you ask me, that's what's wrong with kids today...too many four day weekends and not enough sit down and work. It's all good, though, because I'm going to make them cook and clean while I'm at school...call it Role-Reversal Day. Then they can bring me cookies and ask me how my day went.
Aug 18, 2010
Circa 1995, With Sound Effects and Everything
During the crazy day I had today, I thought of over 1000 topics for this post. Unfortunately, I forgot all of them. So, because I just moved and had occasion to drag out all my old stuff, I thought maybe I would post for you from fifteen years ago. :::time warp noise:::
...wait, I forgot something...:::time warp back noise::: One of my new favorite blogs, SteamMeUpKid, should get some credit here, as she has posted some of her high school journaling, and even some insanely grown-up stories she wrote at age eight. She's a little less filtered than I, so don't click the link if you don't like that stuff, but if so, check her out, because she's Funny, yo.
:::time warp back again noise::: (the parts in blue are from now...everything else is embarrassingly real)
January 25, 1995
Dear Journal,
...we went skating for my birthday. It was lots of fun. Everybody gave me lots of great stuff (happy birthday to me! I STILL love Great Stuff). I even got a silver ID bracelet with my name on the front...I love it!!!! Jason was really understanding about it (Jason is so nice to allow me to receive a gift on my birthday and be all understanding). I'm really grateful for it, too (not sure if I meant the Great Stuff or the understanding). I suppose I'll have to talk to Braden sometime about the fact that I already have a boyfriend. I guess I'm putting it off because I don't want to hurt him. I do love him...like a brother....
January 26 (the next day, yo)
Dear Journal,
I'm still worried about Braden. The strange thing is, I'm starting to wonder if I really do like Braden more than Jason (Even though he was practically my brother yesterday. I'm sure this had nothing to do with the fact that he gave me something sparkly for my birthday.).....I guess I just need to realize that I'm only fifteen, and that I don't have to make all of my life's decisions right now (Exactly. Only make one or two right now. Fifteen year olds know a LOT, but not everything, sheesh). Maybe I should just wait, but something tells me that I might lose Braden right when I realize that he's "Mr. Right." (Again with the not making decisions right away...I mean, you can't let these fifteen year old boys slip away! You gotta' grab 'em when you get the chance because they're so hard to get! Also, clearly he was Mr. Right...sparkles for the birthday pretty much tell you anything you need to know.)
January 30
Dear Journal,
I have Jason wrapped around my finger (or so it seems). (See how humble?) I would just love for him to get mad at me - and show it (Because, hi, who doesn't want that?) - just to see if he will, so I've devised a plan. (Humble and sadistic...those were my best features.) (Ok, you got me...those are my best features.) On Friday, I bunch of us are going out...and I could work this out with Braden and AJ to flirt a lot (a LOT, not just a little...because, really, I don't even know what flirting is, so a little probably wouldn't show up much.) with them, and for them to completely ignore me. That way Jason would have to be mad, but he couldn't be mad at them. (Brilliant! My other Awesome Feature is brilliantness!) I know this is mean...maybe I will, maybe I won't. (I know, Journal, you're dying of suspense...just hang on, ok?)
January 31
Dear Journal,
Well, I won't. Be mean to Jason, I mean. He's not going on Friday. At least that means I don't have to worry about if I should wear the bracelet from Braden, because Jason won't be there to see it, and it will make Braden happy. So, problem solved. Except we have to dissect frogs that day, so maybe not. (A girl can't have her controversial sparkly things all covered in frog bits.) WAIT!!!! (Seriously, stop reading and just pause for a second, because you're gonna' want to sit down or something for this next part.) I just talked to Jason and he is going. Oh, well.
February 2
Dear Journal,
I'm in big trouble now. I really did it this time. I can't believe it. I fell in love with Braden!!! I'm so mad (sort of). (Yes, so sort of mad is a real emotion, yo...TRY BEING A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL!!!)
February 5
Dear Journal,
...I broke up with Jason. (I'll bet you didn't see this coming...you thought I would torture him with my flirting plans forever, but no...the flirting thing never worked out, because I wasn't any good at it and Jason didn't notice.) I just told him that I wanted to, and he said "OK". My cousin said that I never liked Jason and that I was just goin' with him because he's older and he gave me jewelry (wha....??? Where did my cousin get this idea?). I'm gonna kill him. That is not true. I loved Jason!!!!! (Or at least I thought I did) (Exactly! C'mon...who would question the love a fifteen year old girl will admit to thinking she had, maybe, sort of?) Anyway, It's over, and I'm glad. I feel so free. (bwahahahahaha!!!)
February 16
Dear Journal,
...My dad is about to freak out because he thinks I wanna go out with Braden. (What?!?! Where did he get this idea? That man must be crazy! Silly Dad! LOL!) I do like Braden, but I don't want a boyfriend right now. Probably not for a year. (yup, I'm thinkin' a year sounds good...)
March 20 (did I say a year? I meant a month. Silly typos! or whatever you call them when they're hand written....HA!)
Dear Journal,
Braden asked me to be his girlfriend!!! I'm so happy!!! (Me too!!! I think it's all the exclamation points!!!!!) He called me and we talked for about ten minutes. (I just don't know what to say here, but I feel the need to snark on this whole ten minutes thing...:::says something witty and snarky::: There.)
Braden: I have a question to ask you.
Me: OK
B: It's a really important question.
Me: OK
B: I don't care if you say no. (What? He doesn't care if I say no? Should this have told me something? Nah...)
Me: OK (My vocabulary is amazing, I'm sure this is what attracted Braden in the first place.)
B: Will you be my girlfriend?
Me: Yeah (:::nearly faints from the romance:::)
B: Think about it, I don't care if you say no. I don't want you to feel sorry for me. (Again with the not caring...and throw in a "don't feel sorry for me"...this guy needed me to save him, yo! Look at the poor thing. Nobody wuvs him...he needs me.)
Me: I don't feel sorry for you.
B: Yeah, ri...
Me: Braden! Yes, ok? (I said this just like a movie star would have, too.)
B: Ok, bye.
Me: Bye.
I still can't get over that conversation. (Who could get over this conversation? I probably shouldn't have shared it with you, Internet, because you'll never sleep again what with all the thinking of this conversation.) When I told mom, she got mad, but I love him and no one, not even myself can stop that. (That's what I always say....not even myself, y'all...this was Real Love. I mean, I couldn't stop myself, and neither could my mom, and she's kind of a ninja.)
...wait, I forgot something...:::time warp back noise::: One of my new favorite blogs, SteamMeUpKid, should get some credit here, as she has posted some of her high school journaling, and even some insanely grown-up stories she wrote at age eight. She's a little less filtered than I, so don't click the link if you don't like that stuff, but if so, check her out, because she's Funny, yo.
:::time warp back again noise::: (the parts in blue are from now...everything else is embarrassingly real)
January 25, 1995
Dear Journal,
...we went skating for my birthday. It was lots of fun. Everybody gave me lots of great stuff (happy birthday to me! I STILL love Great Stuff). I even got a silver ID bracelet with my name on the front...I love it!!!! Jason was really understanding about it (Jason is so nice to allow me to receive a gift on my birthday and be all understanding). I'm really grateful for it, too (not sure if I meant the Great Stuff or the understanding). I suppose I'll have to talk to Braden sometime about the fact that I already have a boyfriend. I guess I'm putting it off because I don't want to hurt him. I do love him...like a brother....
January 26 (the next day, yo)
Dear Journal,
I'm still worried about Braden. The strange thing is, I'm starting to wonder if I really do like Braden more than Jason (Even though he was practically my brother yesterday. I'm sure this had nothing to do with the fact that he gave me something sparkly for my birthday.).....I guess I just need to realize that I'm only fifteen, and that I don't have to make all of my life's decisions right now (Exactly. Only make one or two right now. Fifteen year olds know a LOT, but not everything, sheesh). Maybe I should just wait, but something tells me that I might lose Braden right when I realize that he's "Mr. Right." (Again with the not making decisions right away...I mean, you can't let these fifteen year old boys slip away! You gotta' grab 'em when you get the chance because they're so hard to get! Also, clearly he was Mr. Right...sparkles for the birthday pretty much tell you anything you need to know.)
January 30
Dear Journal,
I have Jason wrapped around my finger (or so it seems). (See how humble?) I would just love for him to get mad at me - and show it (Because, hi, who doesn't want that?) - just to see if he will, so I've devised a plan. (Humble and sadistic...those were my best features.) (Ok, you got me...those are my best features.) On Friday, I bunch of us are going out...and I could work this out with Braden and AJ to flirt a lot (a LOT, not just a little...because, really, I don't even know what flirting is, so a little probably wouldn't show up much.) with them, and for them to completely ignore me. That way Jason would have to be mad, but he couldn't be mad at them. (Brilliant! My other Awesome Feature is brilliantness!) I know this is mean...maybe I will, maybe I won't. (I know, Journal, you're dying of suspense...just hang on, ok?)
January 31
Dear Journal,
Well, I won't. Be mean to Jason, I mean. He's not going on Friday. At least that means I don't have to worry about if I should wear the bracelet from Braden, because Jason won't be there to see it, and it will make Braden happy. So, problem solved. Except we have to dissect frogs that day, so maybe not. (A girl can't have her controversial sparkly things all covered in frog bits.) WAIT!!!! (Seriously, stop reading and just pause for a second, because you're gonna' want to sit down or something for this next part.) I just talked to Jason and he is going. Oh, well.
February 2
Dear Journal,
I'm in big trouble now. I really did it this time. I can't believe it. I fell in love with Braden!!! I'm so mad (sort of). (Yes, so sort of mad is a real emotion, yo...TRY BEING A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL!!!)
February 5
Dear Journal,
...I broke up with Jason. (I'll bet you didn't see this coming...you thought I would torture him with my flirting plans forever, but no...the flirting thing never worked out, because I wasn't any good at it and Jason didn't notice.) I just told him that I wanted to, and he said "OK". My cousin said that I never liked Jason and that I was just goin' with him because he's older and he gave me jewelry (wha....??? Where did my cousin get this idea?). I'm gonna kill him. That is not true. I loved Jason!!!!! (Or at least I thought I did) (Exactly! C'mon...who would question the love a fifteen year old girl will admit to thinking she had, maybe, sort of?) Anyway, It's over, and I'm glad. I feel so free. (bwahahahahaha!!!)
February 16
Dear Journal,
...My dad is about to freak out because he thinks I wanna go out with Braden. (What?!?! Where did he get this idea? That man must be crazy! Silly Dad! LOL!) I do like Braden, but I don't want a boyfriend right now. Probably not for a year. (yup, I'm thinkin' a year sounds good...)
March 20 (did I say a year? I meant a month. Silly typos! or whatever you call them when they're hand written....HA!)
Dear Journal,
Braden asked me to be his girlfriend!!! I'm so happy!!! (Me too!!! I think it's all the exclamation points!!!!!) He called me and we talked for about ten minutes. (I just don't know what to say here, but I feel the need to snark on this whole ten minutes thing...:::says something witty and snarky::: There.)
Braden: I have a question to ask you.
Me: OK
B: It's a really important question.
Me: OK
B: I don't care if you say no. (What? He doesn't care if I say no? Should this have told me something? Nah...)
Me: OK (My vocabulary is amazing, I'm sure this is what attracted Braden in the first place.)
B: Will you be my girlfriend?
Me: Yeah (:::nearly faints from the romance:::)
B: Think about it, I don't care if you say no. I don't want you to feel sorry for me. (Again with the not caring...and throw in a "don't feel sorry for me"...this guy needed me to save him, yo! Look at the poor thing. Nobody wuvs him...he needs me.)
Me: I don't feel sorry for you.
B: Yeah, ri...
Me: Braden! Yes, ok? (I said this just like a movie star would have, too.)
B: Ok, bye.
Me: Bye.
I still can't get over that conversation. (Who could get over this conversation? I probably shouldn't have shared it with you, Internet, because you'll never sleep again what with all the thinking of this conversation.) When I told mom, she got mad, but I love him and no one, not even myself can stop that. (That's what I always say....not even myself, y'all...this was Real Love. I mean, I couldn't stop myself, and neither could my mom, and she's kind of a ninja.)
Aug 16, 2010
The Interwebz as Revenge
Today, I took my children on an educational visit to a government office. This way, they would know what they want to be when they grow up, because these jobs rock, yo.
I should share this information, so, for you, Internet, a list of awesome government jobs:
Ground Trash Job Description:
While the pay is very low, you have little recognition, and virtually no upward mobility, this is a great job for those who really wish to make a difference. In the office we visited today, Ground Trash served as entertainment for the children, and also something for me to glare at and step on, thus avoiding possible homicidal tendencies toward the other employees. As you will see, Ground Trash is certainly the most useful and under-appreciated of government employees. Other careers in this field include toilet paper, wall hangings, and hand sanitizer dispensers.
Realistic-Looking Receptionist Job Description:
Most offices have a person who sits near the main entrance behind a desk. In most cases, this person is there to tell you where you need to go, or to call the person you are there to see. In the government office, her chief duties include: noticing, then pointedly ignoring anyone who seems to need any sort of help (including if they need directions, if they have questions or if they are on fire), shuffling five pieces of paper over and over in an attempt to appear busy, and cleaning the glass window that separates her from the regular people. This window is very important, as it keeps the RLR from being strangled at least thirty times a day.
The Breather Job Description:
Every good RLR needs a back-up breather. The breather sits directly behind the realistic looking receptionist and her chief duty is to breathe. She may also be called upon to answer text messages or chat with the RLR. Under no circumstances is she to do any actual work, lest the RLR have need of conversation, or the oxygen in the air ever become too concentrated. Her goal is to be sure that any and all plants are meticulously cared for and provided with carbon dioxide.
What I Learned Today:
I should share this information, so, for you, Internet, a list of awesome government jobs:
 |
| Voted Busiest Employee: Ground Trash |
While the pay is very low, you have little recognition, and virtually no upward mobility, this is a great job for those who really wish to make a difference. In the office we visited today, Ground Trash served as entertainment for the children, and also something for me to glare at and step on, thus avoiding possible homicidal tendencies toward the other employees. As you will see, Ground Trash is certainly the most useful and under-appreciated of government employees. Other careers in this field include toilet paper, wall hangings, and hand sanitizer dispensers.
 |
| Voted Least Trained Employee: Realistic Looking Receptionist |
Most offices have a person who sits near the main entrance behind a desk. In most cases, this person is there to tell you where you need to go, or to call the person you are there to see. In the government office, her chief duties include: noticing, then pointedly ignoring anyone who seems to need any sort of help (including if they need directions, if they have questions or if they are on fire), shuffling five pieces of paper over and over in an attempt to appear busy, and cleaning the glass window that separates her from the regular people. This window is very important, as it keeps the RLR from being strangled at least thirty times a day.
 |
| Voted Most Useless Employee: The Breather |
Every good RLR needs a back-up breather. The breather sits directly behind the realistic looking receptionist and her chief duty is to breathe. She may also be called upon to answer text messages or chat with the RLR. Under no circumstances is she to do any actual work, lest the RLR have need of conversation, or the oxygen in the air ever become too concentrated. Her goal is to be sure that any and all plants are meticulously cared for and provided with carbon dioxide.
 |
| My Children are Overwhelmed with the Desire to Do Something Awesome in the Government when they Grow Up! Mission Accomplished, yo. (PS "stealy face" is the face she makes right before she grabs that brochure from her brother) |
- This is the worst field trip idea ever.
- Never ever go back here (except for tomorrow, cause they told me to)
- Never ever bring the kids back here
- It is NOT OK to grab some other woman's baby, even if said baby has been screaming for three hours, and the mother seems to be unable to hear it. Even if the baby asks you to. Not Ok.
- When you are on your second hour of waiting, and feeling a little murdery, it is actually a lot of fun to take very obvious pictures of the employees with your cell phone, then furiously type randomness to make them think you are a) trying to email their boss (even though their boss won't care, because he's head Ground Trash in Charge); b) texting their pictures to your friends (they start checking their hair and stuff); or c) putting their pictures on the Interwebz as revenge for their incompetence (but who would ever do anything like that? That's completely nuts.)
- If you ever see this woman:
...leave...apparently, this man was sitting there minding his own broken-legged business, when this woman sat down and started picking at his face, licking his ears and flicking things out of his hair. Seriously. I can't make this stuff up. I risked the picture for you, Internet, because I love you and I thought you should be warned about Crazy Public Grooming of Others Lady.
When I Asked You to Stock Me, I Wasn't Serious
First of all, let me tell you that I do know how to spell stalk, but I find it extremely funny that Internet thinks you spell it "stock". So, now that we have that cleared up...
Dear Stalker,
I thought it was weird when you followed me home the other night and did a u-turn as soon as I pulled in my drive. I was slightly concerned when you showed up in my driveway at 5 on a Sunday morning, sat there for a second, then left. But when you didn't come in and stab me or steal my trash, I let it go.
When I saw you creeping down my dead end road last night, after I knew all my neighbors were locked down for the night, I started to worry. When you parked your car behind the trees near my house and turned off your lights, I knew I was right to be a little freaked out. When I saw nothing for a few minutes except for what looked like someone lighting a cigarette, I started to think I was a little full of myself and maybe I just wanted a stalker so badly that I imagined one. But I called my brother anyway. Actually, I called my mom, and said "Send Brother and his gun over, please...don't worry, probably just some kids making out in their car, but just in case."
When my dad, my mom and Brother showed up, and after I attached the dog's leash to my jeans (with the dog on the other end, of course) (because I couldn't let him eat any chickens when I was expecting him to save his appetite for stalkers) and stuck my Giant Killer Super Dangerous Gun in my back pocket, I finally got the nerve to go outside and see who those rascally teenagers were and if they were indeed making out or if they had any pot they wanted to share in exchange for not getting eaten by Shucks. Lo and behold! It wasn't teens at all. I do have a stalker. It's you. Ass.
Let's get this straight. When I asked for stalkers, I only meant to please follow my blog, and, if you're really feeling crazy, comment every once in awhile, because blog comments are like crack for writers. I did not mean to literally show up in the middle of the night, scare me to death and make me invite armed relatives over for a little family reunion. Dude, seriously.
So, stalker, please go home now. Please leave me alone. In case you haven't heard, my dad is crazy and likes to shoot at stuff. Also, Brother is very angry, and I once defended him from Scary Old Dude, so he owes me one. If you happen to get past them, you'll have to deal with My Mom, and she's a pretty bad mama bear when someone messes with her babies. And Shucks hasn't had chicken in a veeeerrrry long time, and also has Death Bark. Last but not least, I'm not dealing with it any more. This is my town, yo. I have surrounded myself with rednecks for a very good reason, and son, you're that reason.
Very Sincerely,
Me
Dear Stalker,
I thought it was weird when you followed me home the other night and did a u-turn as soon as I pulled in my drive. I was slightly concerned when you showed up in my driveway at 5 on a Sunday morning, sat there for a second, then left. But when you didn't come in and stab me or steal my trash, I let it go.
When I saw you creeping down my dead end road last night, after I knew all my neighbors were locked down for the night, I started to worry. When you parked your car behind the trees near my house and turned off your lights, I knew I was right to be a little freaked out. When I saw nothing for a few minutes except for what looked like someone lighting a cigarette, I started to think I was a little full of myself and maybe I just wanted a stalker so badly that I imagined one. But I called my brother anyway. Actually, I called my mom, and said "Send Brother and his gun over, please...don't worry, probably just some kids making out in their car, but just in case."
When my dad, my mom and Brother showed up, and after I attached the dog's leash to my jeans (with the dog on the other end, of course) (because I couldn't let him eat any chickens when I was expecting him to save his appetite for stalkers) and stuck my Giant Killer Super Dangerous Gun in my back pocket, I finally got the nerve to go outside and see who those rascally teenagers were and if they were indeed making out or if they had any pot they wanted to share in exchange for not getting eaten by Shucks. Lo and behold! It wasn't teens at all. I do have a stalker. It's you. Ass.
Let's get this straight. When I asked for stalkers, I only meant to please follow my blog, and, if you're really feeling crazy, comment every once in awhile, because blog comments are like crack for writers. I did not mean to literally show up in the middle of the night, scare me to death and make me invite armed relatives over for a little family reunion. Dude, seriously.
So, stalker, please go home now. Please leave me alone. In case you haven't heard, my dad is crazy and likes to shoot at stuff. Also, Brother is very angry, and I once defended him from Scary Old Dude, so he owes me one. If you happen to get past them, you'll have to deal with My Mom, and she's a pretty bad mama bear when someone messes with her babies. And Shucks hasn't had chicken in a veeeerrrry long time, and also has Death Bark. Last but not least, I'm not dealing with it any more. This is my town, yo. I have surrounded myself with rednecks for a very good reason, and son, you're that reason.
Very Sincerely,
Me
Aug 13, 2010
A Conversation with My Niece
Me: Hey, dere wittle baby...how's da bebe? Gooey goo?
Lacy (5 months, I think...I'm a bad aunt): Waddup? Look, I can make slanty eyes when I smile.
Me: Awww, you're so cute! :::pinches Lacy's toes:::
Lacy: What are you doing? I can't see them yet, but I'm pretty sure those belong to me.
Me: Bebebebebebe....is Aunt Mandy funny? hahaha
Lacy: Not really, but you're an idiot, which makes me laugh. Ha.
Me: Can I hold you? Do you want to hang out with Aunt Mandy?
Lacy: No, please.
Me: :::picks Lacy up anyway:::
Lacy: ...
Me: See? This is fun, isn't it? You're so cute.
Lacy: I know. So where's my mom?
Lacy's Mom: Do you want me to take her?
Lacy: :::gets whiplash looking for her mom after hearing her voice:::
Me: No, she likes me, she wants to hang out with me.
Lacy: Mom? Mom? This crazy lady is making weird noises at me and she picked me up after I said no. Please save me.
Me: Hey, Lacy! You don't want your momma...you wanna' see Aunt Mandy!
Lacy: Nope, I think I want my mom. She has those feedy things, and I could totally dig some lunch right now.
Me: Ohhh...you're not hungry...we're gonna' play! Yaaaaay!!!
Lacy: If you don't either feed me or give me to my mom, I'll be sure you regret it. I want my mom. Now.
Me: Oh, c'mon...don't you want to give your mommy a break?
Lacy: Nope.
Me: I know more funny noises...you like those, right? :::makes funny noises which most babies find hysterical, because Aunt Mandy is awesomely funny:::
Lacy: ...
Me: :::different funny noise:::
Lacy: Are you kidding me right now?
Me: :::one more funny noise:::
Lacy: :::pukes down Aunt Mandy's shirt:::
Me: Aaaaah! Dude!
Lacy: :::laughs::: Now that is funny. Where's my mom?
Lacy (5 months, I think...I'm a bad aunt): Waddup? Look, I can make slanty eyes when I smile.
Me: Awww, you're so cute! :::pinches Lacy's toes:::
Lacy: What are you doing? I can't see them yet, but I'm pretty sure those belong to me.
Me: Bebebebebebe....is Aunt Mandy funny? hahaha
Lacy: Not really, but you're an idiot, which makes me laugh. Ha.
Me: Can I hold you? Do you want to hang out with Aunt Mandy?
Lacy: No, please.
Me: :::picks Lacy up anyway:::
Lacy: ...
Me: See? This is fun, isn't it? You're so cute.
Lacy: I know. So where's my mom?
Lacy's Mom: Do you want me to take her?
Lacy: :::gets whiplash looking for her mom after hearing her voice:::
Me: No, she likes me, she wants to hang out with me.
Lacy: Mom? Mom? This crazy lady is making weird noises at me and she picked me up after I said no. Please save me.
Me: Hey, Lacy! You don't want your momma...you wanna' see Aunt Mandy!
Lacy: Nope, I think I want my mom. She has those feedy things, and I could totally dig some lunch right now.
Me: Ohhh...you're not hungry...we're gonna' play! Yaaaaay!!!
Lacy: If you don't either feed me or give me to my mom, I'll be sure you regret it. I want my mom. Now.
Me: Oh, c'mon...don't you want to give your mommy a break?
Lacy: Nope.
Me: I know more funny noises...you like those, right? :::makes funny noises which most babies find hysterical, because Aunt Mandy is awesomely funny:::
Lacy: ...
Me: :::different funny noise:::
Lacy: Are you kidding me right now?
Me: :::one more funny noise:::
Lacy: :::pukes down Aunt Mandy's shirt:::
Me: Aaaaah! Dude!
Lacy: :::laughs::: Now that is funny. Where's my mom?
Aug 12, 2010
Chat's with Shucks: 2
Me: zzzzzzzzz I'm so glad I get to take a nap!
Shucks: :::outside, barking insanely::: HEY!!!!! COME GET ME!!!!
Me: Shut up. I'm napping. You get to do this daily...for me, it's once a year.
Shucks: No, really. I need you to come get me. I want to come inside.
Me: No, it's nice out today. Once I get out of bed, the nap is over.
Shucks: Pleeeeease?
Me: Nope.
Shucks: Pleeeeeease?
Me: zzzzzzzz
Shucks: :::most annoying bark ever::::
Me: DUDE! I wanna sleep. What's your problem?
Shucks: Um....monster?
Me: No such thing. Be quiet.
Shucks: I think it's a monster. It may be something worse, but I really want to come in. Reeeeally want to come inside. Now. Please. Right. Now.
Me: No.
Shucks: :::more barking::: I'm going to do this until you come get me, so you may as well get up and save me from the monster.
Me: GAH! Fine! I'm coming to save you from the "monster" even though I know you really just want to nap under the computer desk. :::throws blankets, stomps to door:::
Shucks: :::tangled up in his rope, unable to move, being attacked by goats::: SEE?!?!?!?! Save me, save me, save me!!!! Please! These monsters are getting me! Look what they're doing. Ohhhh, my dignity is gone, and now they're gonna kill me...::::starts sobbing hysterically:::
Me: Ok, I'm gonna' save you, but lemme go get my camera real quick -- this is hilarious! :::Goats are gently head-butting the dog for no apparent reason, and he still can't move:::
Shucks: You suck.
Me: Goats, will you please leave him alone for a minute while I get my camera?
Goats: No, we hate your dog. He barked at us when we were trying to eat the rose bush. We're going to head butt him to death.
Shucks: Noooooo!!! Monsters! Scary monsters! Save me!
Me: Ok, fine. No camera. Goats, you need to go home.
Goats: nah.
Me: Yes, go home.
Goats: Yeah, that's not gonna' happen so much.
Shucks: Go home, monsters! I'll Death Bark you!
Goats: We are immune to Death Bark. Prepare to meet your Maker, noisy dog.
Me: Ok, this has all gotten out of control. You guys need to go home, and the dog is going inside. Go on, go home.
Goats: No.
Me: :::pushes goats out of the gate:::
Goats: We'll be back...we'll get you, noisy dog...
Me: Shucks, what happened?
Shucks: I'm not speaking to you, sleepy camera lady. You suck.
Shucks: :::outside, barking insanely::: HEY!!!!! COME GET ME!!!!
Me: Shut up. I'm napping. You get to do this daily...for me, it's once a year.
Shucks: No, really. I need you to come get me. I want to come inside.
Me: No, it's nice out today. Once I get out of bed, the nap is over.
Shucks: Pleeeeease?
Me: Nope.
Shucks: Pleeeeeease?
Me: zzzzzzzz
Shucks: :::most annoying bark ever::::
Me: DUDE! I wanna sleep. What's your problem?
Shucks: Um....monster?
Me: No such thing. Be quiet.
Shucks: I think it's a monster. It may be something worse, but I really want to come in. Reeeeally want to come inside. Now. Please. Right. Now.
Me: No.
Shucks: :::more barking::: I'm going to do this until you come get me, so you may as well get up and save me from the monster.
Me: GAH! Fine! I'm coming to save you from the "monster" even though I know you really just want to nap under the computer desk. :::throws blankets, stomps to door:::
Shucks: :::tangled up in his rope, unable to move, being attacked by goats::: SEE?!?!?!?! Save me, save me, save me!!!! Please! These monsters are getting me! Look what they're doing. Ohhhh, my dignity is gone, and now they're gonna kill me...::::starts sobbing hysterically:::
Me: Ok, I'm gonna' save you, but lemme go get my camera real quick -- this is hilarious! :::Goats are gently head-butting the dog for no apparent reason, and he still can't move:::
Shucks: You suck.
Me: Goats, will you please leave him alone for a minute while I get my camera?
Goats: No, we hate your dog. He barked at us when we were trying to eat the rose bush. We're going to head butt him to death.
Shucks: Noooooo!!! Monsters! Scary monsters! Save me!
Me: Ok, fine. No camera. Goats, you need to go home.
Goats: nah.
Me: Yes, go home.
Goats: Yeah, that's not gonna' happen so much.
Shucks: Go home, monsters! I'll Death Bark you!
Goats: We are immune to Death Bark. Prepare to meet your Maker, noisy dog.
Me: Ok, this has all gotten out of control. You guys need to go home, and the dog is going inside. Go on, go home.
Goats: No.
Me: :::pushes goats out of the gate:::
Goats: We'll be back...we'll get you, noisy dog...
Me: Shucks, what happened?
Shucks: I'm not speaking to you, sleepy camera lady. You suck.
It Started to be About Manners, but Ended Up with Hair Dye
I had to take the kids in to the school to be "evaluated", because they are going into public school this year after being home schooled. Apparently, public schools are racist against parents who like their kids. Anyway, I live in a snobby town. It was kind of difficult to sit there for two hours in the lobby with all the kids because they were hungry and bored. I was slightly frustrated, but I was trying to be smiley and nice to people, because I figure I'm stuck with them for at least one school year. They weren't nice back.
While I was carrying two screaming (and rather large) children, a woman came in with a box of cookies and two boys about ten years old. I held the door, expecting one of her boys to get it, so that I could juggle my kids. They didn't. My kids would have, or they would have at least said thank you. Hers didn't. Ok, not everyone teaches their kids these things, and even if they do, kids don't always notice this stuff, so I was all right with that. Then she walked through the door. I looked directly at her, smiled and said hi. She just walked by. She didn't say thank you or anything. Um, excuse me? I know she noticed me...the door didn't open by magic...it was being held by a woman holding two children/tornado sirens. I wanted to yell at her, but I talked myself out of it. I'm glad I did, because apparently, she works at the school. I don't want to start off being psycho-mom. (That will come later, but I try to hold off for the first month.)
(PS This same woman left her kids out with mine while she went to work, but as soon as our kids started playing together, she came out and made them go around the corner....??? What was that?)
So I sat there forever. I noticed that every woman working there or coming in with paperwork looked exactly alike. Their hair is the same shade of blonde. Same cut. Same body, clothes, shoes....wow. I mean, it was like someone had a cookie cutter shaped like elitist-Stepford-wife-snob-no-manners and made lots of them and dumped them all into one spot. It kind of freaked me out.
Maybe that's why none of them could hear me when I said hi? Like, maybe the hair dye messes with your hearing and you can only hear people who look just like you? I have to go back to meet with them today, but I'm worried they won't know I'm there unless I bleach my hair and lose a few pounds (ok, more than a few, shut up).
I am not sure I'm going to fit in here at all. But that's ok, because fitting in isn't really my thing. It is a little intimidating, though. There were a few women who were nice to me, but they weren't made from the cookie cutter. So I'm really going with the hair dye/hearing theory.
The meeting today is to go over whatever they learned about my kids during their evaluation. I don't want to go, and I'm a little afraid of the reputation I'm going to give myself if they start telling me what to do with my kids. On the upside, I may be able to snap a picture to show you guys how much they all look alike. I'm sure they want to be internet famous...although it probably won't work out for them because nobody will be sure who is who.
While I was carrying two screaming (and rather large) children, a woman came in with a box of cookies and two boys about ten years old. I held the door, expecting one of her boys to get it, so that I could juggle my kids. They didn't. My kids would have, or they would have at least said thank you. Hers didn't. Ok, not everyone teaches their kids these things, and even if they do, kids don't always notice this stuff, so I was all right with that. Then she walked through the door. I looked directly at her, smiled and said hi. She just walked by. She didn't say thank you or anything. Um, excuse me? I know she noticed me...the door didn't open by magic...it was being held by a woman holding two children/tornado sirens. I wanted to yell at her, but I talked myself out of it. I'm glad I did, because apparently, she works at the school. I don't want to start off being psycho-mom. (That will come later, but I try to hold off for the first month.)
(PS This same woman left her kids out with mine while she went to work, but as soon as our kids started playing together, she came out and made them go around the corner....??? What was that?)
So I sat there forever. I noticed that every woman working there or coming in with paperwork looked exactly alike. Their hair is the same shade of blonde. Same cut. Same body, clothes, shoes....wow. I mean, it was like someone had a cookie cutter shaped like elitist-Stepford-wife-snob-no-manners and made lots of them and dumped them all into one spot. It kind of freaked me out.
Maybe that's why none of them could hear me when I said hi? Like, maybe the hair dye messes with your hearing and you can only hear people who look just like you? I have to go back to meet with them today, but I'm worried they won't know I'm there unless I bleach my hair and lose a few pounds (ok, more than a few, shut up).
I am not sure I'm going to fit in here at all. But that's ok, because fitting in isn't really my thing. It is a little intimidating, though. There were a few women who were nice to me, but they weren't made from the cookie cutter. So I'm really going with the hair dye/hearing theory.
The meeting today is to go over whatever they learned about my kids during their evaluation. I don't want to go, and I'm a little afraid of the reputation I'm going to give myself if they start telling me what to do with my kids. On the upside, I may be able to snap a picture to show you guys how much they all look alike. I'm sure they want to be internet famous...although it probably won't work out for them because nobody will be sure who is who.
Aug 11, 2010
Epic Shopping
Grocery shopping sucks.
I have been trying to get this budget under control for three months, and just this month, it all started to come together, but we hit a few snags. This resulted in trips to the grocery store about every other day, and never having the right foods in the house. You know when you have lots of hamburger meat, half a bag of tortillas and eight thousand popsicles, and you try to make a dinner out of it? Yeah, that's what it's been like.
So, today I decided to fix it. I planned a menu for two weeks. I hate doing that. Especially after I had to eat April's lunch today and I never want to see food again. (Not the lunch she made, but the lunch she couldn't eat, and didn't want to hurt the cook's feelings.) Ugh. So I made up some meals we might eat and we might not.
Then I added a bunch of random stuff to the list. This was mostly stuff that I remembered wishing I had in the house throughout the last few weeks, but I probably won't ever want it again. Like buffalo wings. I love wings, but I don't really eat them when they're around. But it's covered, just in case.
Then I went around the house and made sure we put everything on the list we might need in the next two weeks: toothpaste, laundry detergent, dog food....beer. (Ok, beer wasn't on the list, but I did regret this later.)
Then I loaded up the kids and went shopping. For three hours. This was our Epic Trip to Avoid Walmart for at Least Two Weeks.
I usually get a lot of looks when I take my kids shopping. Mostly, it's either other worn out moms with sympathetic smiles, or older couple who ask my kids if they have girlfriends and stuff. Today was the same until we got to filling the second cart. Then I started getting looks that were clearly judgemental. I think they said things like:
You're making an eight year old push that heavy cart?
Do you really need those cookies?
That's a lot of bread. (Someone actually said this to me once...I was like, hi, this is a lot of kids.)
Why is that second cart full of beer? (hahaha! Just kidding! But I still regretted this.)
THREE HOURS LATER, I was ready to check out. The checker started crying when we started unloading the second cart. My kids, who had been very good up to this point, started asking for every single impulse item near the register, and trying to hop on the moving carts of everyone walking by. I was flustered and yelling at everyone. This took another half hour.
We left, and on our way out, we ran into a Large Family! They had five kids, long hair, skirts and two parents...my kind of people, right? So I smiled all big at the mom. She glared at me. What?!?!?! I'm like you, lady! I home school! I go to church! I believe in marriage and kids!!! (I realize that I sound all racist about home schooling here, but that's because I am a little racist about home schooling, because home schoolers tend to be racist against the whole world.) But wait, I looked down. I was wearing shorts, all sweaty and screamy, my kids were still half dressed because we just left the pool, and I didn't have husband in tow or a ring on my finger....so nope, prolly not their kind of people after all. So, basically, I don't fit in with the DINK's (double income no kids) from my town that give me looks in the store, and I don't fit in with the crazy big family people, either??? Darn.
On the upside, our van was so full of food that the suspension was taxed, and we got to ride home like this:
...and I dont' have to shop for at least two weeks. Oh, except to replace the things that melted in the 105 degree heat and the few gallons of milk that exploded when my kids helped carry them in. Darn again...I need to go back tomorrow. (PS, this is where the beer should come in.)
I have been trying to get this budget under control for three months, and just this month, it all started to come together, but we hit a few snags. This resulted in trips to the grocery store about every other day, and never having the right foods in the house. You know when you have lots of hamburger meat, half a bag of tortillas and eight thousand popsicles, and you try to make a dinner out of it? Yeah, that's what it's been like.
So, today I decided to fix it. I planned a menu for two weeks. I hate doing that. Especially after I had to eat April's lunch today and I never want to see food again. (Not the lunch she made, but the lunch she couldn't eat, and didn't want to hurt the cook's feelings.) Ugh. So I made up some meals we might eat and we might not.
Then I added a bunch of random stuff to the list. This was mostly stuff that I remembered wishing I had in the house throughout the last few weeks, but I probably won't ever want it again. Like buffalo wings. I love wings, but I don't really eat them when they're around. But it's covered, just in case.
Then I went around the house and made sure we put everything on the list we might need in the next two weeks: toothpaste, laundry detergent, dog food....beer. (Ok, beer wasn't on the list, but I did regret this later.)
Then I loaded up the kids and went shopping. For three hours. This was our Epic Trip to Avoid Walmart for at Least Two Weeks.
I usually get a lot of looks when I take my kids shopping. Mostly, it's either other worn out moms with sympathetic smiles, or older couple who ask my kids if they have girlfriends and stuff. Today was the same until we got to filling the second cart. Then I started getting looks that were clearly judgemental. I think they said things like:
You're making an eight year old push that heavy cart?
Do you really need those cookies?
That's a lot of bread. (Someone actually said this to me once...I was like, hi, this is a lot of kids.)
Why is that second cart full of beer? (hahaha! Just kidding! But I still regretted this.)
THREE HOURS LATER, I was ready to check out. The checker started crying when we started unloading the second cart. My kids, who had been very good up to this point, started asking for every single impulse item near the register, and trying to hop on the moving carts of everyone walking by. I was flustered and yelling at everyone. This took another half hour.
We left, and on our way out, we ran into a Large Family! They had five kids, long hair, skirts and two parents...my kind of people, right? So I smiled all big at the mom. She glared at me. What?!?!?! I'm like you, lady! I home school! I go to church! I believe in marriage and kids!!! (I realize that I sound all racist about home schooling here, but that's because I am a little racist about home schooling, because home schoolers tend to be racist against the whole world.) But wait, I looked down. I was wearing shorts, all sweaty and screamy, my kids were still half dressed because we just left the pool, and I didn't have husband in tow or a ring on my finger....so nope, prolly not their kind of people after all. So, basically, I don't fit in with the DINK's (double income no kids) from my town that give me looks in the store, and I don't fit in with the crazy big family people, either??? Darn.
On the upside, our van was so full of food that the suspension was taxed, and we got to ride home like this:
Aug 9, 2010
Big Sisters are Ninjas
When I first got my license, I took my little brothers and sisters to church one week for my mom. I think she was sick or something. After that, I thought I would be all cool and take them to McDonald's, because little kids like that stuff, and I figured that would ensure I would have babysitters in the event I got knocked up or something. (Totally worked, by the way.)
About four seconds after we got our food, my little brother (about five at the time) ralphed all over my car. I don't do this stuff. Even now that I'm a mom, I don't really handle puke very well...it makes me all stabby and murdery feeling. The only reason I didn't scream at him (because yes, that is how evil I am) is that he had been sick on and off for months, and we were all worried that there was something very wrong with him.
So I help the kid out of the car and he..erm...finished up behind my car. Across the parking lot, there were two guys eating in their car, and while I felt vaguely sorry for ruining their lunch, there wasn't much I could do about it.
The guys rolled their windows down and started yelling things at my brother. They weren't calling him names or anything, they just thought it would be really funny to yell gross stuff and see if they could make him even more sick.
Here's the thing. Don't screw with my little brother. Actually, don't screw with any of my siblings. Because it makes me a little insane. Just in case you forgot, I was already stabby from the puking, so now these guys were gonna' get stabby and insane.
I cleaned up my brother, put him in the car, and walked deliberately to the pickup with the two assholes inside. They saw me coming and rolled up the windows. That wasn't going to work...I was insane. And they were mean to my brother. So I pounded on the window. The driver got out. He pretty much looked like this:
I was skeered. But also crazy and murdery. So even when this guy got out of his truck, stood two inches in front of my face, and said "What's the problem", I went off on his ass. I told him he was a jerk for picking on a little kid, and that my brother had been sick for a long time and he should watch what he was saying, and that also, don't mess with my brother, yo. Then I stared him right in the eye and tried not to pee my pants because I may have been crazy, but I was still sane enough to be scared.
He said "you look hot when you're pissed." I said "you're an ass". I walked away. He followed. I was very frightened, and all my bravado had chosen that minute to go away. It took all I could not to run. He followed me all the way to my car, didn't kill me, and apologized to my brother. Then he told me he was sorry and asked if he could help me. I glared at him because I was still so scared that I couldn't talk anymore. He took that for "dignified cold-shoulder", apologized again and left.
So take that, big scary old dude. I'll get all crazy-stabby-but-really-scared-to-death-of-you until you DIE if you're ever mean to my brother again! I have big sister ninja powers, yo. Or at least I did...I'm not really hot when I'm pissed anymore...more like, well, just pissed.
About four seconds after we got our food, my little brother (about five at the time) ralphed all over my car. I don't do this stuff. Even now that I'm a mom, I don't really handle puke very well...it makes me all stabby and murdery feeling. The only reason I didn't scream at him (because yes, that is how evil I am) is that he had been sick on and off for months, and we were all worried that there was something very wrong with him.
So I help the kid out of the car and he..erm...finished up behind my car. Across the parking lot, there were two guys eating in their car, and while I felt vaguely sorry for ruining their lunch, there wasn't much I could do about it.
The guys rolled their windows down and started yelling things at my brother. They weren't calling him names or anything, they just thought it would be really funny to yell gross stuff and see if they could make him even more sick.
Here's the thing. Don't screw with my little brother. Actually, don't screw with any of my siblings. Because it makes me a little insane. Just in case you forgot, I was already stabby from the puking, so now these guys were gonna' get stabby and insane.
I cleaned up my brother, put him in the car, and walked deliberately to the pickup with the two assholes inside. They saw me coming and rolled up the windows. That wasn't going to work...I was insane. And they were mean to my brother. So I pounded on the window. The driver got out. He pretty much looked like this:
He said "you look hot when you're pissed." I said "you're an ass". I walked away. He followed. I was very frightened, and all my bravado had chosen that minute to go away. It took all I could not to run. He followed me all the way to my car, didn't kill me, and apologized to my brother. Then he told me he was sorry and asked if he could help me. I glared at him because I was still so scared that I couldn't talk anymore. He took that for "dignified cold-shoulder", apologized again and left.
So take that, big scary old dude. I'll get all crazy-stabby-but-really-scared-to-death-of-you until you DIE if you're ever mean to my brother again! I have big sister ninja powers, yo. Or at least I did...I'm not really hot when I'm pissed anymore...more like, well, just pissed.
Aug 8, 2010
Four Days Alone
Starting on Wednesday, the kids will be at their dad's for the remainder of the week. Sunday is never a day off for me, but that still leaves me four (ok, three and a half) days to myself. Ok, the longer I write about this, the less time it seems. Hmmm...
I was going to give a list of what I want to do with all that spare time, but now I just want a long nap. Anyway, I'll just pretend that he's got them for the week, and here's what I would do:
I was going to give a list of what I want to do with all that spare time, but now I just want a long nap. Anyway, I'll just pretend that he's got them for the week, and here's what I would do:
- take a long nap (yup...this is a priority)
- blare the radio
- play this video over and over for a few hours
- read
- realize what a nerd I am right before the kids get home Sunday morning.
Chats with Shucks
Me: (freaked out) What's wrong, Shucks? Is there a bad guy outside?
Shucks: No, it's this scary white thing in the bathroom...it's...well, I've never seen anything like it.
Me: Dude, it's a toilet. It's like, the whole point of the bathroom.
Shucks: No, I mean it, I think it's a murderous shape-shifter or something. It's totally gonna' eat us. I'm gonna' bark at it until it dies.
Me: It's two o'clock in the morning. I don't think it's going to eat us. Let's stop barking and go to sleep.
Shucks: :::barks louder::: nuh-uh, I still think it's dangerous...I better bark some more. I have super-death-bark powers, and eventually, this thing is gonna' come crashing down.
Me: :::shuts the bathroom door::: There, now it's locked in and it won't get us.
Shucks: Well, ok, but I'm going to lay right here next to the door all night, and if I hear so much as a peep, I'm breaking out my Death Bark and maybe even some Super Paw Shakes. If that doesn't work, I'll hide in the closet and you can tell me when you've killed it.
Me: zzzzzzz
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------(Two days later...)
Shucks: :::barking maniacally at the bathroom door::: Do you hear that? It's talking to me. It said it's going to eat us. I told you.
Me: It's just flushing, it's supposed to do that.
Shucks: Why hasn't it stopped? Nobody is in there...unless it's eaten one of the kids!!!! :::GASP::: :::furious barking:::
Me: Shut UP! The kids are asleep...it's an old toilet. :::jiggles the lever::: See? It's not talking anymore, go to sleep.
Shucks: :::giant doggy sigh::: You have no clue, woman. I'm tellin' you that thing is going to get us some day.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Three weeks later, landlords have installed a new toilet)
Me: :::ears bleeding from terrible barking noises::: WHAT IS THE DEAL????
Shucks: I TOLD you, I TOLD you...it looks all different. I told you it was a murderous shape-shifter! Why don't you listen to me. Now you go away so I don't accidentally hurt you with my Death Bark and Super Paw Shake. :::proceeds to blast new toilet to smithereens with Super Death Bark:::
Shucks: No, it's this scary white thing in the bathroom...it's...well, I've never seen anything like it.
Me: Dude, it's a toilet. It's like, the whole point of the bathroom.
Shucks: No, I mean it, I think it's a murderous shape-shifter or something. It's totally gonna' eat us. I'm gonna' bark at it until it dies.
Me: It's two o'clock in the morning. I don't think it's going to eat us. Let's stop barking and go to sleep.
Shucks: :::barks louder::: nuh-uh, I still think it's dangerous...I better bark some more. I have super-death-bark powers, and eventually, this thing is gonna' come crashing down.
Me: :::shuts the bathroom door::: There, now it's locked in and it won't get us.
Shucks: Well, ok, but I'm going to lay right here next to the door all night, and if I hear so much as a peep, I'm breaking out my Death Bark and maybe even some Super Paw Shakes. If that doesn't work, I'll hide in the closet and you can tell me when you've killed it.
Me: zzzzzzz
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------(Two days later...)
Shucks: :::barking maniacally at the bathroom door::: Do you hear that? It's talking to me. It said it's going to eat us. I told you.
Me: It's just flushing, it's supposed to do that.
Shucks: Why hasn't it stopped? Nobody is in there...unless it's eaten one of the kids!!!! :::GASP::: :::furious barking:::
Me: Shut UP! The kids are asleep...it's an old toilet. :::jiggles the lever::: See? It's not talking anymore, go to sleep.
Shucks: :::giant doggy sigh::: You have no clue, woman. I'm tellin' you that thing is going to get us some day.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Three weeks later, landlords have installed a new toilet)
Me: :::ears bleeding from terrible barking noises::: WHAT IS THE DEAL????
Shucks: I TOLD you, I TOLD you...it looks all different. I told you it was a murderous shape-shifter! Why don't you listen to me. Now you go away so I don't accidentally hurt you with my Death Bark and Super Paw Shake. :::proceeds to blast new toilet to smithereens with Super Death Bark:::
Aug 6, 2010
What's Up with June Bugs?
I had to go outside just now, and the porch light was on. There were June bugs and I hate them. Then, because I try to always be nice, I sorta felt bad for hating them, because it's not like they hurt anyone or anything. I even like spiders - and they bite. (Ok, I don't like drunk spiders, but that has more to do with them falling in my hair....ohh....that's why I don't like June bugs...) Anyway, I started thinking that maybe June bugs are misunderstood, and here's the story I made up to force me to like them:
(It didn't work, by the way.)
JUNE BUG STORY
A long time ago, June bugs were known only as bugs. They were small, smart, and unobtrusive. They lived quiet existences in the dirt, and they didn't ever go out during the day, because they hated any kind of light. They would spend four years in the ground, growing up, and it wasn't until they had proven their adulthood that they were allowed to venture outside. Even then, they had to follow careful rules about never going near any light.
One young bug named Joe couldn't wait to be an adult so that he could marry his high school sweetheart, June. He heard a rumor that he would grow faster if he could get to light somehow. He snuck out every afternoon when the other bugs were sleeping and sunned himself until he grew to immense proportions. It wasn't long until he was the biggest bug ever seen.
He was ready to prove his adulthood, but June, he realized, was not. She was still tiny. Joe was very impatient to marry her, so he convinced her to go into the light, as well. It would take weeks of afternoon tanning sessions to get her to grow, so Joe thought it would be a good idea to hide her in a porch light.
After he had her hidden away, he went to see his mother to tell her that he was ready to be an adult. She was amazed at how large he had grown, and after three hours of the careful questioning that makes mothers the envy of police interrogators everywhere, she discovered that he had been in the light.
"Joe! You don't know what you've done!" She cried. "When bugs are exposed to light, they lose their brains, honey...within days. There is no cure."
Joe was in anguish over putting his beloved June in danger, and quickly explained to his mother what he had done.
"It's different for females, Joe. She will not lose her brain, but will be stuck in the porch light for the rest of her life, unless you can save her before you lose your brain."
Joe flew as fast as his wings would carry him to the porch light, but was too late, for alas! he lost his brain on the way. The only thing Joe could remember was that there was something very important he needed from the porch light, and he had to get into it.
So poor Joe spent every night for the rest of his life braining himself on porch lights until he couldn't fly anymore, at which point he would stand on his head and spin himself around with his wings until morning.
And, I assume, for every June bug you see on your porch, there is a mother-bug at home wondering if her unlucky son ever got the girl. So you see, don't be angry with the June bugs, they are hopeless romantics with broken hearts and no brains, just trying to remember what they left in your porch light.
(It didn't work, by the way.)
JUNE BUG STORY
A long time ago, June bugs were known only as bugs. They were small, smart, and unobtrusive. They lived quiet existences in the dirt, and they didn't ever go out during the day, because they hated any kind of light. They would spend four years in the ground, growing up, and it wasn't until they had proven their adulthood that they were allowed to venture outside. Even then, they had to follow careful rules about never going near any light.
One young bug named Joe couldn't wait to be an adult so that he could marry his high school sweetheart, June. He heard a rumor that he would grow faster if he could get to light somehow. He snuck out every afternoon when the other bugs were sleeping and sunned himself until he grew to immense proportions. It wasn't long until he was the biggest bug ever seen.
He was ready to prove his adulthood, but June, he realized, was not. She was still tiny. Joe was very impatient to marry her, so he convinced her to go into the light, as well. It would take weeks of afternoon tanning sessions to get her to grow, so Joe thought it would be a good idea to hide her in a porch light.
After he had her hidden away, he went to see his mother to tell her that he was ready to be an adult. She was amazed at how large he had grown, and after three hours of the careful questioning that makes mothers the envy of police interrogators everywhere, she discovered that he had been in the light.
"Joe! You don't know what you've done!" She cried. "When bugs are exposed to light, they lose their brains, honey...within days. There is no cure."
Joe was in anguish over putting his beloved June in danger, and quickly explained to his mother what he had done.
"It's different for females, Joe. She will not lose her brain, but will be stuck in the porch light for the rest of her life, unless you can save her before you lose your brain."
Joe flew as fast as his wings would carry him to the porch light, but was too late, for alas! he lost his brain on the way. The only thing Joe could remember was that there was something very important he needed from the porch light, and he had to get into it.
So poor Joe spent every night for the rest of his life braining himself on porch lights until he couldn't fly anymore, at which point he would stand on his head and spin himself around with his wings until morning.
And, I assume, for every June bug you see on your porch, there is a mother-bug at home wondering if her unlucky son ever got the girl. So you see, don't be angry with the June bugs, they are hopeless romantics with broken hearts and no brains, just trying to remember what they left in your porch light.
Scary Test
I had to go take Scary Test today to see if I am smart enough to go to school. It was a two hour test, and I had no coffee or food before I went (which does not make for great focus). I pretty much spent the first fifteen minutes looking around to see if anyone had dropped any candy on the floor, hoping they wouldn't think I was trying to cheat. (I didn't find any candy. Bummer.)
The girl who told me how to use the computer (ok, ok, the bar is already low here, I get that), told me that it was very important to take my time, because people who take the test quickly always end up losing at life and become something awful like politicians or drug addicts. (I think that's what she said, I was beginning the candy hunt at that point.) Even though there were a few people who started before I got there, I was the first one done with the test, so I sat in my chair and waited for at least two people to leave. I'm not really sure why I did this, because I couldn't go back and change my answers, and I'm pretty sure the computer knew I was done. I was a little frightened that I would get a judgemental look from the Test Administrators and they would yell at me in front of all the other kids or something. So I sat there and very nearly starved to death.
After I got up the nerve to get out of my chair, I had to go get the paper with my score to take to some other person. The administrator scared me to death because she told me that she wasn't supposed to talk to people about their scores, but she wanted to explain something about mine. I was freaking out. She said I needed this certain score to get into school, and the only score I could see was Algebra, which was lower. My dreams were crushed. (My dreams of becoming a bookkeeper and trying to work my way through my real dreams over the next ten years or so, that is.) Well, anyway, apparently, Algebra doesn't matter (Hello!!! I've been saying this since highschool!!), and she was pointing out that my other scores were pretty good, so that was a relief...dreams uncrushed, proceed with Life.
So, here's what the test said (and pretty much what I knew about myself already):
Reading - Good Score = I love to read, I read fast, but I hate reading poetic drivel about despair and oppression, and I apparently cannot answer questions about it. I spent most of that story looking for candy and watching the clock to see if I was taking my time.
Pre-Algebra (in the old days, we called it math) - OK Score = I can count. (My courses are for Accounting Services, so let's hope I can count.) I have the ability to work in percentages and fractions, but "It's not a pretty picture. I don't like doing it." (If you can guess that quote, you win at being a 90's kid.)
Algebra - Awful Score = I answered "c" for every questions and basically got 25% right. I remember learning algebra as a kid, and when my mom didn't know how to help me, she would ask my dad to try. He would explain it to me, and magically come up with an answer. I would go "Whaaa...???" So he would explain it again - not differently - louder. I'd be all "The thing is, how do letters ever equal numbers? And if they do, why not just put the number there in the first place?" So my dad would very patiently use the exact same words even louder. I would say "Ohhhhhh....ok" and he would leave. Then I would turn back a few pages and hope I could figure out what he was talking about. (Note: I am not criticizing my dad for this; this is sort of how I teach people to read. I end up screaming psychotically, "It's 'THE'!!! How do you NOT know this word?!?! You just read it EIGHT MILLION TIMES in the last FIVE MINUTES! 'THE', DAMMIT! Gah! Just let me read it for you." See? I'm crazy.)
Writing - Perfect Score = I am completely anal and rude about grammar and punctuation. I actually caught myself sighing disgustedly - out loud - because of the horrible grammar in the essays I was supposed to correct. This is also how I read you, Internet. You disgust me with your misspellings and your incorrect usage of there (or their, or they're) and your (or you're), and lack of understanding of the beautiful comma. Please, I beg you, do something about this. And no, I didn't need a test to tell me this about myself...I knew it all along. I am so picky about this that I am One of Those People. Which is funny, because I HATE when Those People correct my writing mistakes. So Shut. Up. I'm sure this post is riddled with them because it's midnight and it's been a long day and my kids keep talking in their sleep and freaking me out. (I still rock at making sentence boyfriends that go on terribly long.)
Anyway, I pretty much learned stuff I already knew, and I'm glad I am smart enough for vo-tech.
The girl who told me how to use the computer (ok, ok, the bar is already low here, I get that), told me that it was very important to take my time, because people who take the test quickly always end up losing at life and become something awful like politicians or drug addicts. (I think that's what she said, I was beginning the candy hunt at that point.) Even though there were a few people who started before I got there, I was the first one done with the test, so I sat in my chair and waited for at least two people to leave. I'm not really sure why I did this, because I couldn't go back and change my answers, and I'm pretty sure the computer knew I was done. I was a little frightened that I would get a judgemental look from the Test Administrators and they would yell at me in front of all the other kids or something. So I sat there and very nearly starved to death.
After I got up the nerve to get out of my chair, I had to go get the paper with my score to take to some other person. The administrator scared me to death because she told me that she wasn't supposed to talk to people about their scores, but she wanted to explain something about mine. I was freaking out. She said I needed this certain score to get into school, and the only score I could see was Algebra, which was lower. My dreams were crushed. (My dreams of becoming a bookkeeper and trying to work my way through my real dreams over the next ten years or so, that is.) Well, anyway, apparently, Algebra doesn't matter (Hello!!! I've been saying this since highschool!!), and she was pointing out that my other scores were pretty good, so that was a relief...dreams uncrushed, proceed with Life.
So, here's what the test said (and pretty much what I knew about myself already):
Reading - Good Score = I love to read, I read fast, but I hate reading poetic drivel about despair and oppression, and I apparently cannot answer questions about it. I spent most of that story looking for candy and watching the clock to see if I was taking my time.
Pre-Algebra (in the old days, we called it math) - OK Score = I can count. (My courses are for Accounting Services, so let's hope I can count.) I have the ability to work in percentages and fractions, but "It's not a pretty picture. I don't like doing it." (If you can guess that quote, you win at being a 90's kid.)
Algebra - Awful Score = I answered "c" for every questions and basically got 25% right. I remember learning algebra as a kid, and when my mom didn't know how to help me, she would ask my dad to try. He would explain it to me, and magically come up with an answer. I would go "Whaaa...???" So he would explain it again - not differently - louder. I'd be all "The thing is, how do letters ever equal numbers? And if they do, why not just put the number there in the first place?" So my dad would very patiently use the exact same words even louder. I would say "Ohhhhhh....ok" and he would leave. Then I would turn back a few pages and hope I could figure out what he was talking about. (Note: I am not criticizing my dad for this; this is sort of how I teach people to read. I end up screaming psychotically, "It's 'THE'!!! How do you NOT know this word?!?! You just read it EIGHT MILLION TIMES in the last FIVE MINUTES! 'THE', DAMMIT! Gah! Just let me read it for you." See? I'm crazy.)
Writing - Perfect Score = I am completely anal and rude about grammar and punctuation. I actually caught myself sighing disgustedly - out loud - because of the horrible grammar in the essays I was supposed to correct. This is also how I read you, Internet. You disgust me with your misspellings and your incorrect usage of there (or their, or they're) and your (or you're), and lack of understanding of the beautiful comma. Please, I beg you, do something about this. And no, I didn't need a test to tell me this about myself...I knew it all along. I am so picky about this that I am One of Those People. Which is funny, because I HATE when Those People correct my writing mistakes. So Shut. Up. I'm sure this post is riddled with them because it's midnight and it's been a long day and my kids keep talking in their sleep and freaking me out. (I still rock at making sentence boyfriends that go on terribly long.)
Anyway, I pretty much learned stuff I already knew, and I'm glad I am smart enough for vo-tech.
Aug 5, 2010
In Honor of my Sister
Today is my oldest sister's birthday (but I'm still the oldest, so BACK. OFF.)...so here are some memories...
Once, I made her lie for me. Then I said, "No, you won't be able to." She said, "uh-huh!" So I said, "OK" (I was really afraid of getting caught, and made a bad judgement call here). She cannot lie. The girl is physically incapable of lying. So I coached her to keep her tongue in her mouth and not look weird or anything. My mom called her downstairs..."Ashley, was Mandy asleep last night or was she on the phone with Boyfriend?" Ashley (tongue out, rolling eyes, fidgeting, looking absolutely weird, and nearly unintelligible) "She waaas ashhhleeeep...?????" My mom: "Mandy, you're grounded." And I couldn't even be mad, because it wasn't really her fault. I had totally asked her to do something she was clearly not made to do. It was like asking her to fly or something.
Another time (I'm sure this was the same year), I decided to be really bad and smoke a cigarette in my room. Ashely promised she wouldn't tell, and I was fairly certain my mom wouldn't ask about this one. But just in case, I made Ashley take a drag, too, to prove she wouldn't rat me out. She didn't, and it was actually kind of mean of me, now that I think about it. As a matter of fact, I'm probably in trouble now, because I just told Internet something I never actually got busted for.
We used to have "Trading Posts" and trade our stuff to each other. The little kids got screwed out of some good toys that way.
If Ashley read my blog, she would crack up at this...possibly Britton, too. Too bad I can't tell the whole story, but see if this rings a bell..."Ashley? Ashley? Um....are you ok?" (Britton running back to our room as fast as her skinny little legs would go) (Ashley trying to come up the stairs, but she's laughing so hard she almost didn't make it)
Driving to Dallas with Melanie in the middle of the night. It's pouring rain and traffic is stopped. Random Guy knocking on our window, "What's up?" Us, "Rain". Guy, "Roll down the window." Us, "HELL no." Marc and Crystal calling to yell at us later...good times.
She was my maid-of-honor, and I was hers.
Random list:
Once, I made her lie for me. Then I said, "No, you won't be able to." She said, "uh-huh!" So I said, "OK" (I was really afraid of getting caught, and made a bad judgement call here). She cannot lie. The girl is physically incapable of lying. So I coached her to keep her tongue in her mouth and not look weird or anything. My mom called her downstairs..."Ashley, was Mandy asleep last night or was she on the phone with Boyfriend?" Ashley (tongue out, rolling eyes, fidgeting, looking absolutely weird, and nearly unintelligible) "She waaas ashhhleeeep...?????" My mom: "Mandy, you're grounded." And I couldn't even be mad, because it wasn't really her fault. I had totally asked her to do something she was clearly not made to do. It was like asking her to fly or something.
Another time (I'm sure this was the same year), I decided to be really bad and smoke a cigarette in my room. Ashely promised she wouldn't tell, and I was fairly certain my mom wouldn't ask about this one. But just in case, I made Ashley take a drag, too, to prove she wouldn't rat me out. She didn't, and it was actually kind of mean of me, now that I think about it. As a matter of fact, I'm probably in trouble now, because I just told Internet something I never actually got busted for.
We used to have "Trading Posts" and trade our stuff to each other. The little kids got screwed out of some good toys that way.
If Ashley read my blog, she would crack up at this...possibly Britton, too. Too bad I can't tell the whole story, but see if this rings a bell..."Ashley? Ashley? Um....are you ok?" (Britton running back to our room as fast as her skinny little legs would go) (Ashley trying to come up the stairs, but she's laughing so hard she almost didn't make it)
Driving to Dallas with Melanie in the middle of the night. It's pouring rain and traffic is stopped. Random Guy knocking on our window, "What's up?" Us, "Rain". Guy, "Roll down the window." Us, "HELL no." Marc and Crystal calling to yell at us later...good times.
She was my maid-of-honor, and I was hers.
Random list:
- Tequila shots
- bachelorette parties
- sleepovers
- Christmas parties
- Rib Crib
- first apartment
- walking to school
- giant anthill at the end of the road at our old house (killer ants, yo, they would climb your bike to eat you.)
- taking Warrick for walks
- Western Hills
Aug 3, 2010
A Letter to My New Boyfriend
Where have you been all my life? I know that's a pretty cheesy line, but I happen to know that you've been around for awhile, and never once has anyone told me how incredible you are.
Fate brought us together today because you were on the new $2 menu, and I had exactly $2....I wouldn't have even looked at you except that you came with a drink. As luck would have it, I was parched, and didn't have enough cash for my typical Taco Bell choice, so the awesome drink won out.
Little did I know it was a match made in heaven.
I'm not sure what you're wrapped in, but it's all yummy and not a boring old tortilla at all (which probably disqualifies you as Mexican food). Then you are all filled up like a taco, but so much better. I could have sat with you all day, but you were a little over-filled and tried to get to second base, and that was a little too much for out first meeting. I'm just not that kind of girl, Gordita.
Now, Gordita, my love, do not be afraid. I will not stalk you, nor will I stock you (I AM the interwebz, foo'), because even though I had $2 today, on most days, I do not. And even if I had $2 on most days, I would, in all honesty, not spend it on you.
But there would be some days...maybe one per month? Oh, then, Gordita, we could be together on those days, and it would be fantastic.
I love you forever, and I'm so glad we've finally met.
Love,
MannyRee
Aug 2, 2010
Single Life
Here's what sucks about being "single" (I have to put that in quotes, because I'm not technically single, I am merely alone, but I don't really feel alone, because I do have awesome people who I LOVE in my life, but they don't live with me, and if I ever do get lonely, I have this sentence which is so long that it's now alive and could probably keep me company if I ever needed it to.)...
...now...let's see...um......
I don't remember why I was even going to talk about that. Because, hello, people sometimes read this, and I'm sure I had a point, but if I go on now, I would clearly say something that I don't want people reading, or at least people who already don't like me and will pick it apart and make it something it's not....<---Oh, LOOK! Another sentence boyfriend! I should do this for a living because I obviously rock at it.
Making long sentences to move in with, that is.
Not writing about why it sucks to be fake-single.
Because I'm not really single...did I mention that? And even if I were, I have no idea what single people do, so I prolly wouldn't do that anyway. I'd probably move into my mom's basement and be a nerdy creepy blogger.
...Oh. Yeah. Well, I don't live in the basement. But I did come close. But I'm in a real house. So it's all good. ... Shut up.
Nerdy is the new hot, right? Does that apply to girls? Hmmm...I guess it doesn't matter if I'm hot or not, since I'm fake single, not real single, so who frikkin' cares?
So, that's what I have to say about that. Good talk, yo.
...now...let's see...um......
I don't remember why I was even going to talk about that. Because, hello, people sometimes read this, and I'm sure I had a point, but if I go on now, I would clearly say something that I don't want people reading, or at least people who already don't like me and will pick it apart and make it something it's not....<---Oh, LOOK! Another sentence boyfriend! I should do this for a living because I obviously rock at it.
Making long sentences to move in with, that is.
Not writing about why it sucks to be fake-single.
Because I'm not really single...did I mention that? And even if I were, I have no idea what single people do, so I prolly wouldn't do that anyway. I'd probably move into my mom's basement and be a nerdy creepy blogger.
...Oh. Yeah. Well, I don't live in the basement. But I did come close. But I'm in a real house. So it's all good. ... Shut up.
Nerdy is the new hot, right? Does that apply to girls? Hmmm...I guess it doesn't matter if I'm hot or not, since I'm fake single, not real single, so who frikkin' cares?
So, that's what I have to say about that. Good talk, yo.
Aug 1, 2010
Computer-Wow
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