- I wish for a real winter this year so all the mosquitos and other bugs will die. I hate bugs with a passion. All these idiots around here who hate cold weather need to shut it this year. I’m sick of worrying that each time I take the dogs out, a West Nile Virus mosquito will get me.
- When I kill a bug, I have to use about eight paper towels to pick its dead body up with. Not one – no, that might mean I’d feel its crunchy, nasty, broken bug body through the paper towel. I also have to Lysol the floor and surrounding areas (just in case some bug juice got there, too).
- If I see a bug, I squeal like a little girl. I know, pathetic. I’m pretty independent but I’ve been known to call my mommy and daddy to come kill bugs for me. I tried that with the non-BF once and he just sighed and told me he was going to bed. My charm works most of the time, but a 30 minute drive to kill a spider? I don’t think so. (I will still try anyway…never hurts to ask.)
- I don’t even know why bugs were ever created. What fucking purpose do they serve, other than to annoy me and make my skin crawl, and to keep exterminators employed? Maybe bugs were created on the Seventh Day, when God took a rest. Some rebel angel thought, “Hey, let’s mess with the humans and give them this shit!”
- Looked at the bottom of my foot just now and realized I am overdue for a pedicure even though I had one less than two weeks ago. SO ready for fall to be here where I can switch to boots and flats and not have to worry about my crusty-ass feet! I still shave my legs every day, even in the winter. I’m not that gross, thank you very much!
- No offense to those of you who don’t in the winter. I just cannot stand to have hairy legs. I probably could skip a day or two, though. It takes forever for the hair to grow back on my legs. Should really look into laser hair removal, I know.
- Was at a dinner party this past weekend. When we arrived, I poked the non-BF and pointed at a tall vase sitting on the floor of the host/hostess’ house. It was about 1/3 full of wine corks. I told the non-BF, “See? I’m not the only one who does that!” (I have several vases in my house with all these different wine corks in them. They’re pretty – try it.) The non-BF, to the hostess: I have a friend who has his guests sign the cork and he dates them. You know, if it is a special event. We all agreed it was a clever way to document good
drinkingentertaining memories. I thought to myself but thankfully didn’t add to the conversation that mine would all look like: (2 corks) “9-3-12, non-GF, it was a Monday“, (4 corks) “8-31-12, non-GF, full moon”, or (3 corks) “5-15-12, non-GF, an old woman gave me a dirty look at the grocery store today.”
- When people see my Lushy Wino Cork Vases for the first time, they always exclaim, “WOW, that’s a lot of wine you’ve had!” I give them the Stink Eye because it’s not like I collected all of them in one month or anything. It took me two.
- Rainbow likes to bite his own toenails. Yep, pretty disgusting and also quite unusual – I don’t know anyone else who has a dog that does that. He will sit and snack on them like he is gnawing on a log of wood or something. I tried painting Rainbow’s toenails once but he only let me get by with doing two of them. It bugged the shit out of me that he walked around like that for a week.
- When I go on vacation, I always pack a few workout outfits because yeah, I’m going to be more dedicated to doing that shit when I’m on vacation than I am in real life. Dumbass. That’s just more room for shoes!
- At least I stopped carrying an extra suitcase for shoes. My Vacation Suitcase (as opposed to my Work Travel Suitcase) can fit a smallish woman in it. I know because I climbed inside to see if I could when I first got it. Even so, I still needed an extra suitcase for my shoes. Or so I thought. The last vacation, I didn’t do that because I got sick of the non-BF bitching about all my luggage (that he ended up carrying, ha!). So I thought I’d be nice and scale it down a bit. He spent 10 minutes at the airport moving shit from my Large Enough To Stow A Dead Body bag into his small bag so I wouldn’t have to pay $100 for an over the weight limit suitcase. He’s so sweet like that. Next trip, hon, I promise I’ll be better!
- When he gets a little too grumpy about it, I remind him he could be traveling with Kate Winslet on the Titanic. That usually shuts him up. Only because he typically won’t respond to the more absurd things I say.
- I’m so OCD that years ago, I used to keep a Clothing Diary so I wouldn’t wear the same outfit in a month. Once, a guy I was hanging out with found it and wrote the next day’s date in the diary, then penned “Red dress again.” I was so pissed off at the time. I thank God and the Clothing Fairy that I grew up because now, I’d snap a photo of that shit and post it on Facebook. It was funny. And yes, I was way too uptight back then.
- I no longer keep a Clothing Diary, by the way. The Compulsive Shopping Illness I have has kind of taken care of me ever having to worry about that again.
- No, I don’t have a spreadsheet for my clothes. But it’s a grand idea, thanks!
- I usually memorize lyrics, but until the internets, I totally, always got them wrong.
- My dogs are so sweet…when they’re asleep.
- Broke down and gave Wormy Kitty another catnip toy because it’s fun to watch that shit.
- Fucking condenser froze up TWICE already this evening…I’m sweating it out in a house with 74 degree temperature and I’m watching it continue to rise.
- Yeah, I’m one of those annoying hot-natured bitches that causes everyone else in the office to wear sweaters in the summer.
- Glad I have home warranty, except it’s the Friday night of a three-day weekend so I may just have to deal until Tuesday.
- Can you lose weight by sweating?
- Bought some hair serum today at an outlet mall. Went home and found out I could get it much cheaper online. Guess who will be staking out that kiosk tomorrow at 10:00 a.m.? “All sales final – NO REFUNDS” – whatthehellever!
- If I don’t get my money back, I’m going to stand there and tell potential customers they can buy the product cheaper at Amazon and show it to them on my phone. If I can’t have my money back, I’ll make those scamming bastards lose at least three times what they cost me.
- Okay, yeah, so I was a sucker, but in my defense, my blood sugar was low and I didn’t have my Don’t You DARE Fuck With Me face on yet. SO unprepared!
- Hope there isn’t any incident involving security, though. Personally not a fan of being restrained.
- Took the Office Mate to lunch today at some place I haven’t been to in a while, but the menu looked good. Fried pickles are always a good thing…until you bite into one and realize it’s a SWEET pickle. Who the fuck does that shit??
- Trio of fries were good – one was a purple Peruvian potato, which sounded (and looked) cool, and they covered it in cayenne pepper. I’m a Spicy Girl, can’t get it hot enough for me, but those fries just really didn’t do it. I liked the homemade mayo, though.
- HUGE pet peeve of mine: Someone sends an email to a lot of people who don’t know each other and doesn’t BCC the email list. Bitch, if I wanted 149 strangers to have my email address, I’d take out an ad on Craig’s List.
- I’ve never been one of those Bosses Who Yell. Never understood that approach to management. I’m more like one of those Bosses Who Laugh. And Talk To Themselves.
- In the name of the baby Jesus and all that is holy, what the HELL do my dogs do all day long that causes them to pass out on my sofas every night?
- SO sorry, but this is too funny!
- Every time I hear Wormy Kitty jumping around and I go to look after her, she freezes, shoots me the Evil Eye and hides behind her litter box. I swear she is plotting to smother me with her kneading little paws when she finally gets released from her Ringworm Quarantine
- On the phone with the non-BF just now. Me: This kitten is so cute. I am poking her belly. Gotta go hose off with some Lysol, though. Him: Back to your dating days, I see.
- Yeah, no motherfucking Christmas gift for you this year, asshat.
- P.S. I totally love him. I just play his Bitchy Non-Girlfriend on TV.
- Just took a peek at my calendar tomorrow. Shit, can’t make the Outlet Mall Stalking. Gonna have to chalk that up to “I Probably Shouldn’t Be Let Outside Without A Chaperone.”
- Oh HELL, the kitten is awake and playing with catnip again. I give up and I am going to bed!
“Looks like somebody has a case of the Mondays.” I swear to the baby Jesus and all that is holy, if anyone EVER says that to me, I’ll knock them upside their head with my 20 pound purse!
I give you my Bitchy Monday:
- Wormy Kitty (as she is now called) doesn’t seem to be doing any better. Might be because I am an idiot and wasn’t giving her the proper dosage of nasty ringworm meds the first two days. I really need to read labels.
- I don’t seem to be doing any better myself. Feel like the fucking Typhoid Mary.
- Woke up sick this morning, slept a little too late and had to go into the office wearing a ball cap because I had fugly hair from being a lazy bitch this weekend. Also wore baggy cropped pants, a mismatched t-shirt and flip flops that didn’t even come close to pulling the “outfit” together. I looked like a homeless person dressed me.
- Now, don’t get all shitty about the above bullet point. I give them beer money, remember?
- The bandage covering my ringworm is irritating my skin (eew, that still grosses me out to say “my” and “ringworm” in the same sentence!). Between welty skin, a fungal infection and my Lysol Arms, I’m a train wreck.
- Was chastised by the non-BF yesterday: “You sure do cuss a lot more these days. It’s like your blog has taken over your real life.” Oopsy! Can’t have THAT happen, can we?
- Forced Austerity Campaign has not been too much of an adjustment for me. I didn’t opt out of my emails, but now I delete them all. Okay, so I take a tiny peek at them and then I delete them. Oh yeah, and I threw away my “Shit I Need To Buy” folder! PROGRESS.
- I know I really am overdue on a Man-Skeeter post but I’m so busy at work these days, I don’t even want to think about her when I get home. Soon, my bitches, very, very soon.
- Totally forgot to turn up my A/C this morning and came home to a super cold house, a shivering Wormy Kitty, two pissed off dogs and a condenser that froze up.
- What would I do for a Klondike bar? I don’t really like them, so yeah, probably nothing.
- I just looked at my surrounding area and realized I have four bottles of nail polish out. Three are pale pink with shades so insignificantly different from one another, it makes me wonder why I bought all three of them. Oh wait, the Shopping Problem. I fail.
- “Forgot” to eat this weekend, except for some Cheetos, so I had two chicken biscuits and biscuits and plain gravy for breakfast, and a sandwich for lunch. Damn, I’ve had my carb intake for all of September the last week in August. Nothing but salad and apples for this bitch for four weeks!
- I have to get up really early tomorrow, so I set three different alarms on my phone and I’m having my mommy call me in the morning. I sure miss my “alarm clock dog” (Mr. Swirly). For more reasons than that, obviously, but hell, that dog could wake the dead.
- Going to start calling my girls The Nips. Going braless? “Taking The Nips on a walk.” Breast self exam? “It’s Jane Fonda time for The Nips. Work it, baby!”
- Rainbow is licking his penis (because he can), Blindie is licking her arm and Wormy Kitty is licking the crate gate. I am surrounded by saliva. It ain’t pretty.
We went out to eat for my younger brother’s birthday today and instead of Abuelo’s (chain), Baby Bro wanted to go to On The Border (another chain). I hate chain restaurants but I thought the lesser of two evils would be better. However, since it was his birthday we were celebrating, he got to choose. On The Border Of A Letdown it was.
While the waiter was very nice, the service was shitty and whoever was managing that restaurant must have been off today or else really didn’t know what they were doing.
- Took FOREVER to get menus, and it wasn’t that busy when we were seated.
- Ordered the Live Guacamole (they make it at the table) and queso for appetizers because yeah, we ALL needed to eat an insane amount of chips before our greasy Tex-Mex dinners. We had to ask for plates for the appetizers (what? are we all going to eat out of the same fucking bowl?) and had to wait about 8 minutes for them to arrive – they passed our table three fucking times after we asked before we finally got the plates, while chips kept breaking off in the guac – and even though no one double-dipped (I know, I was watching), it was kinda gross being all communal like that.
- Against my better judgment, I ordered the “new!” shrimp ceviche. According to dictionary.com, ceviche is “an appetizer of small pieces of raw fish marinated in lime or lemon juice, often with onions, peppers, and spices.” So I wanted to make sure it was really a shrimp cocktail (like I saw in the photo in the menu) and asked the waiter if the shrimp were cooked. He gave me a funny look. I asked if the shrimp were boiled and he responded, “No, they are kind of sauteed.” I don’t know what “kind of sauteed” means but the first one he brought out had the texture of poorly cooked calimari. I HATE rubbery food, so I told him I didn’t want it. He offered a replacement and I told him “only if they prepare it the correct way.” By this time, the chips/guacamole/queso were kicking in, and that rubbery unpleasantness left my appetite lacking. Five minutes later, some chick brings me the second attempt at shrimp cocktail/or ceviche, as OTB calls it. Worse than the one before. I really wonder if they just rinsed off my Tabasco sauce and gave me the same shit. Or else all of their shrimp is overcooked. Good thing my friend and I are taking Baby Bro out for dinner tonight because I’m hungry. Hell, I could have just bought some Doritos and Bean Dip and stayed at home.
- I had to “borrow” some water from my mom’s glass because no one ever came by to fill up my iced tea.
- They stationed us at a table that was in the middle of the path of every waitperson in the place. I’m surprised I didn’t end up with a nacho in my hair.
- The music was so loud that I couldn’t hear anyone except those two people on either side of me. For the second time in one month, I just grinned and agreed with whatever anyone was saying, which is SO unlike me.
This isn’t Yelp!, I know, but hell, worst dining experience I have had in quite some time – I had to get that shit off my chest! In the future, I am (ahem) “suggesting” we go to Oak Cliff instead and get some real Mexican food.
I drove myself to this feast since I had an errand to run after, so I headed off before the others left the restaurant and went to this ghetto fabulous mega beauty supply store on the way home. On the way back out to my car, I saw this:
Then for fun, I drove by the Crazy House in my town so I could present you with this:
Next stop was my parents’ house, where we had Present Time and cake (because we needed cake after all that Tex-Mex, and oh yes!, my lunch consisting of chips, queso and guacamole), but I declined because I don’t really like cake. I knew what was coming after this…everyone would go off and take a nap. Lightweights! But no, they decided instead to listen to my older brother snore loudly while watching “Close Encounters” because none of us have seen that movie 100 times yet. No fucking way I was staying for that. Especially when my mom kept getting pissed because I was Googling “naked Adam Levine” on her laptop. Decided to take the niece shopping so we could somehow salvage what had become of the day. (Well, the cake and Present Time parts were good – if you like cake, and if you got presents – neither of which applied to me).
Since the birth of my niece 17 years ago, I have been waiting with baited breath for the day she would want to go shopping with me. (I think I got mixed up with some other baby at birth because who are these people and why don’t they like to shop?) I was so excited she wanted to go. I’m such a girly girl and she really is starting to be one, too. Turned out to be a good idea, since we got to chat quite a bit, and we both got presents (her a silver ring and me a Swarovski crystal bracelet, yay!).
Oh, and I introduced her to Tiffany jewelry by forcing her to go through hundreds of necklaces, pendants, bracelets and rings on the website when we got back home. She found about 20 pieces she wanted.
Older Bro? You’re welcome. This is for holding me down and dropping loogies on my face when we were kids. I’m the devil, heh heh. Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?
Not really. I just tell people that to annoy them. Nobody likes Morning People. Unless they are one. And secretly, Morning People suffer from self-loathing that manifests itself in eating disorders, compulsiveness, and shopping addictions.
Wait, I just described myself. Never mind. Good morning!
I woke up at about 4 a.m. and turned on the television. Just like the saying “Nothing good happens after midnight” (I think I was told that as a teen so I’d make curfew, but it stuck), nothing good is on TV after 2 a.m. Well, not on the regular cable channels. No Law & Order reruns, Charmed or Smallville. Or Angel. Not that I watch any of those. (Well, maybe the Law & Order. I think Sam Waterston is hot in an older guy, fatherly type way. But that is a topic for further discussion at another time, preferably when I have an empty stomach and some Xanax.)
Infomercials permeate late night TV. And most TV viewers at that hour are vulnerable. (Think insomniatic, unemployed, binge drinker, or just plain bored.) Thank God I saved myself! Almost bought the Tracy Anderson Method and a Total Gym. Now I can use that money for booze and hot pants.
I’m a pretty limber person, even with my bad back and all. Not as limber as I was when I was 20 (who is?), but I routinely sit with my legs all crossed in a yoga pose. No, I don’t do yoga, that would require effort and commitment on my part, two qualities that I don’t possess at the moment, but I know it is a yoga pose because (a) I used to do yoga (well, I went to two classes, does that count?) and (2) people ask me if I do when they see me sitting like that.
Back in the day, by the way, I could put both of my legs behind my head. Lots of fun at parties, but embarrassing when you get stuck as you are showing off this talent at say, WORK. Thank God for understanding bosses.
I totally got busted yesterday when I started to tell my parents about the Toilet Paper War that I’m waging against the Nosy Office Manager around the corner from me. (Yes, my teepee sting was successful, but now the other people in my office think I am insane.) My mom cut me off with an I Know All About It comment and shook her finger at me to shut up from the front seat of the car! Apparently, she doesn’t want my dad finding out about the blog.
I called her last night and told her that I warned her not to read my blog. She asked me, “So then why did you send me a link to it?” Only thing I could think of is that I must have been intoxicated at the time, or the bath salts finally kicked in.
So, please, if you comment, say hi to my mom, too. Because I know damned well she will still keep reading this.
What does that mean???
I’ve been a bit depressed lately because of Mr. Swirly and all, so I thought a little Retail Therapy couldn’t hurt.
Tracking was set up to text me during all phases of shipment, so I knew the packages from last Friday were arriving today. I always make sure the Office Mate knows just in case I am out (I was today). My iPhone dinged at me on my way back to the office from an offsite meeting.
I do know the UPS driver by name. “What can brown do for me?” Make me do a happy dance, that’s what!
I don’t know anyone who gets more excited about the UPS truck driving up than I do.
Unfortunately, the LP dress was slightly too short when I got home and tried it on. By “slightly,” I mean I could lean over and everyone would see my girly bits. Taking it back tomorrow. Sad, too, because it’s the striped nautical dress on top of the stuff in the bag ‘o shit, and I just know the non-BF would have said, “Hey, sailor!“ when he saw me in it.
Four dresses (not counting the girly-bits-showing-dress that I am taking back tomorrow), one pair of cotton/linen pants and a lightweight summer cardigan. $284. Some kind of Magical Online Shopping Discount Fairy showed up at checkout and gave me 40% off, totally unexpected.
So I drive home and stop off at the parents’ house on the way home to get their mail. I pull into my driveway afterward and see this huge box on my front porch. I wasn’t expecting any more deliveries and I always send my shipments to the office in case some hooligan decides to take off with my purchases before I can get home.
Did I drunk-shop again this weekend? WTF?
Several months ago, the non-BF signed me up for Wine Of The Month Club so I could get 5,000 miles on an airline we use. He’s pretty nice like that. He calls them my “rations.”
“Just three shipments, and you’ll get your miles and then I can stop it.”
Um, this is the fourth or fifth one, and normally I only score six bottles.
TWELVE BOTTLES. Count ’em, baby. Count. Them.
This should last me through the weekend. Heh!