Webkinz Mania
How fucking pathetic is this? K and I were both logged on to the Tiny Terrorists accounts playing games against each other for the past 30 minutes. I have to say, he’s a lot harder to beat at checkers than an 8 year old! Sheesh, at least I regained my honor by whipping his ass at their version of battle ship… and if the damn site hadn’t gotten bogged down, I’ll still be beating him down like a clown! And the best part? I won Webkinz money for Cabbage Patch’s horse! I’m such a GOOD MOM!
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Day of Dorkitude
Yesterday was not only a LONG day for me but one fraught with dorkyness. But what can I say, I am the Duchess of Dorkdome. I locked up the bakery register and when I got someone to come fix it, it had apparently fixed it self (as it I just didn’t realize it wasn’t locked up), I couldn’t find my invoices for my deliveries for that day, I almost forgot to bake my bread, I made a lovely cake – the wrong freaking size! Then when I went home briefly I found out a friend is extremely pissed at me for something I did not do – I more than likely have completely lost the friendship (which is terribly painful to know), had to disappoint my children by telling them that they could not go swimming since I had to go to a meeting for work that night – I resorted to bribery to stop the tears, I’m not proud of it, but I did it. Whatever. That day is over. Today is a NEW DAY! And it’s RAINING! And my power has been flicker on and off! AND I got a $4 off coupon for a carton of cigarettes! How great is that? It’s not. I don’t smoke! Talk about the wrong target audience. Well I’m going to go drown my issues in a nice cup of coffee. Mmmmmm coffee, Starbucks coffee… almost as good as sex… ALMOST.
Yesterday was not only a LONG day for me but one fraught with dorkyness. But what can I say, I am the Duchess of Dorkdome. I locked up the bakery register and when I got someone to come fix it, it had apparently fixed it self (as it I just didn’t realize it wasn’t locked up), I couldn’t find my invoices for my deliveries for that day, I almost forgot to bake my bread, I made a lovely cake – the wrong freaking size! Then when I went home briefly I found out a friend is extremely pissed at me for something I did not do – I more than likely have completely lost the friendship (which is terribly painful to know), had to disappoint my children by telling them that they could not go swimming since I had to go to a meeting for work that night – I resorted to bribery to stop the tears, I’m not proud of it, but I did it. Whatever. That day is over. Today is a NEW DAY! And it’s RAINING! And my power has been flicker on and off! AND I got a $4 off coupon for a carton of cigarettes! How great is that? It’s not. I don’t smoke! Talk about the wrong target audience. Well I’m going to go drown my issues in a nice cup of coffee. Mmmmmm coffee, Starbucks coffee… almost as good as sex… ALMOST.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Terrorist Scout Trip
Saturday was quite the adventure. Mac Gyver and I took a trip to the hereto unheard of town of Frognot Texas. Why? Because we could. I haven’t watched the news but it’s quite possible that if you hear of possible terrorist activities in a small North Texas town, that might have been us. See we thought it would be really fabulous to take photos in Frognot, ya know to commemorate our grand adventure and prove to people that it does in fact exist – though the estimate population is something spectacular like I don’t know, 10 or 15. Anyway, at the point that we were stopped on the side of the highway taking photos of the water tower (because it has a frog on it) I realized that it was quite possible someone might think we were terrorists since we were taking photos of the local water supply. Mac Gyver and I laughed about this while stopping at a convenience store to get ice-cold beverages and I surmised that despite there being a few actual witnesses to our shady photography we were probably safe from detection. Reason being that as soon as anyone mentioned TERRORISTS the local yokels would automatically assume that to be terrorists, we would have to be Middle Eastern men with full beards. Luckily, I waxed recently. An executive decision was made that our terrorist cell would henceforth be called The Divine Bovines and that our scouting trip had to continue into the neighboring towns. What the hell, we managed to get to Frognot without getting lost why not push our luck?
Whitewright Mostly Right
We motored into Whitewright shortly before the sidewalks were rolled up and headed for the ‘Historic Downtown’ for some shopping. What we discovered:
• Their ‘Downtown’ is about a block long
• The flower shop had moved next door and was closed for the day
• There is a Curves there, though it appeared to be closed midday Saturday
• There is only one and I mean ONE store worth going into
• The Webkinz are a fucking bargain there
• I’m a sucker for my kids
• I purchased a Webkin
• I actually purchased 2
• Mac Gyver has more resolve against spending than I do
• That poor woman who owned the store just about talked us to death she’s so starved for human contact
• Most of the realtor places ‘downtown’ were closed
• The listings were posted on the window
• We could buy a ‘fixer upper’ on a shit load of land for almost nothing
• It was out in the freaking boonies though
• And by ‘fixer upper’ they meant “Walls still standing, roof still on, but you’ll need to fucking gut the place to make it livable”
• I would hate living in the country.
• This place sucks.
Outlet For Supplies
Satisfied that we experienced all that Whitewright had to offer, we headed for civilization. The Outlet mall near my house! Oh, the discoveries were many! I won’t bore you with the details – just give you the highlights:
• Black leather hair bands with little skulls on them are awesome!
• 15 year olds in Ramones tee-shirts make me laugh
• Places that give out samples rock
• The Harry & David outlet is still to freaking expensive – but the samples are to die for
• Leaving a store with a bag full of Buddha’s and a couple of good luck frogs is AWESOME
After spending most of my vast fortune (lie), we had a gourmet meal of Taco Bell and discussed our terrorist activities for the day. It was decided that the Divine Bovines terrorist scout mission was a complete success and should be repeated.
Saturday was quite the adventure. Mac Gyver and I took a trip to the hereto unheard of town of Frognot Texas. Why? Because we could. I haven’t watched the news but it’s quite possible that if you hear of possible terrorist activities in a small North Texas town, that might have been us. See we thought it would be really fabulous to take photos in Frognot, ya know to commemorate our grand adventure and prove to people that it does in fact exist – though the estimate population is something spectacular like I don’t know, 10 or 15. Anyway, at the point that we were stopped on the side of the highway taking photos of the water tower (because it has a frog on it) I realized that it was quite possible someone might think we were terrorists since we were taking photos of the local water supply. Mac Gyver and I laughed about this while stopping at a convenience store to get ice-cold beverages and I surmised that despite there being a few actual witnesses to our shady photography we were probably safe from detection. Reason being that as soon as anyone mentioned TERRORISTS the local yokels would automatically assume that to be terrorists, we would have to be Middle Eastern men with full beards. Luckily, I waxed recently. An executive decision was made that our terrorist cell would henceforth be called The Divine Bovines and that our scouting trip had to continue into the neighboring towns. What the hell, we managed to get to Frognot without getting lost why not push our luck?
Whitewright Mostly Right
We motored into Whitewright shortly before the sidewalks were rolled up and headed for the ‘Historic Downtown’ for some shopping. What we discovered:
• Their ‘Downtown’ is about a block long
• The flower shop had moved next door and was closed for the day
• There is a Curves there, though it appeared to be closed midday Saturday
• There is only one and I mean ONE store worth going into
• The Webkinz are a fucking bargain there
• I’m a sucker for my kids
• I purchased a Webkin
• I actually purchased 2
• Mac Gyver has more resolve against spending than I do
• That poor woman who owned the store just about talked us to death she’s so starved for human contact
• Most of the realtor places ‘downtown’ were closed
• The listings were posted on the window
• We could buy a ‘fixer upper’ on a shit load of land for almost nothing
• It was out in the freaking boonies though
• And by ‘fixer upper’ they meant “Walls still standing, roof still on, but you’ll need to fucking gut the place to make it livable”
• I would hate living in the country.
• This place sucks.
Outlet For Supplies
Satisfied that we experienced all that Whitewright had to offer, we headed for civilization. The Outlet mall near my house! Oh, the discoveries were many! I won’t bore you with the details – just give you the highlights:
• Black leather hair bands with little skulls on them are awesome!
• 15 year olds in Ramones tee-shirts make me laugh
• Places that give out samples rock
• The Harry & David outlet is still to freaking expensive – but the samples are to die for
• Leaving a store with a bag full of Buddha’s and a couple of good luck frogs is AWESOME
After spending most of my vast fortune (lie), we had a gourmet meal of Taco Bell and discussed our terrorist activities for the day. It was decided that the Divine Bovines terrorist scout mission was a complete success and should be repeated.
Politely Racist
I’ve discussed before how I happen to work with some conservative Christian co-workers. One of them happens to be of the fun sort of conservative Christian, the fundamental, judgmental, somewhat racist, conservative Christian. We’ll call her Peg because that’s not her real name and if she ever Google’s her real name, despite the fact that it’s fairly common, I’d rather her not find this because it’s utterly truthful and really awful of her.
Recently there was a lovely cake that was made, sort of a wedding/anniversary cake that is often used for bridal showers and all. It has a couple of hearts on it and looks lacy and all that happy crap. When Peg got to the point of putting the names on and saw that it was TWO GIRL names she said, “I hope this cake isn’t for two girls!” and got her knickers in a knot. I casually said “Well maybe it’s just a birthday cake.” To which she countered that it had wedding bells and all on it. Then for the next 20 minutes I had the joy of hearing Peg and Sue (my other CCC) go on about what if the cake really is for a couple of lesbians, and would Peg have done the cake if it was, and all that until it finally ended with Sue telling Peg about some jack ass talk radio program she listened to who had some speaker on who UESED TO BE GAY and I had to stifle my urge to say “Used to be gay? That just means he’s in the closet until someone catches him in the bathroom of a truck stop paying a male prostitute to give him head.” BUT I didn’t. After all, as I told a friend, I’m not there to make a political statement, I’m there to earn a paycheck. Quite frankly, people like that can’t be reasoned with – ignorance and intolerance are hard to get rid of. After they had that conversation I really, really hoped it WAS for a LESBIAN couple and that they would pick it up while she was still working, hand in hand, chains on their wallets, snuggled up to each other, wearing their Melissa Etheridge t-shirts.
As if that wasn’t enough for one day, just a bit later Peg was telling Sue about being at a public park with her husband and daughter. Part way through the story she says “Now I’m not RACIST, but…” and went on to tell about all the TRASHY MEXICANS that were there. As we all know, any statement that starts like that is going to be extremely racist. This time I tuned out their patter, with occasional parts of it filtering through my mind humming Amy Winehouse’s Rehab. In that one conversation they covered the ‘trashy Mexicans’, how they need to learn English, not be on welfare and stop coming over here – well she said ILLEGALY, but you know she really meant AT ALL. Racist.
I’ve worked there for 2 months and I really wish I could say that this was the FIRST time I heard her say such things, but it’s not. I’ve figured out that anytime she’s going to say some horrible sweeping comment about a group of non white people that she’ll start it with “I’m not RACIST, but…” to make it all polite and sweet. I guess I’ll have to remember that, next time I have something snarky to say about hypocritical conservative Christians I’ll just say “I’m not racist, but…” first and then she can’t get pissed at me. (Eyes rolling up in head)
I’ve discussed before how I happen to work with some conservative Christian co-workers. One of them happens to be of the fun sort of conservative Christian, the fundamental, judgmental, somewhat racist, conservative Christian. We’ll call her Peg because that’s not her real name and if she ever Google’s her real name, despite the fact that it’s fairly common, I’d rather her not find this because it’s utterly truthful and really awful of her.
Recently there was a lovely cake that was made, sort of a wedding/anniversary cake that is often used for bridal showers and all. It has a couple of hearts on it and looks lacy and all that happy crap. When Peg got to the point of putting the names on and saw that it was TWO GIRL names she said, “I hope this cake isn’t for two girls!” and got her knickers in a knot. I casually said “Well maybe it’s just a birthday cake.” To which she countered that it had wedding bells and all on it. Then for the next 20 minutes I had the joy of hearing Peg and Sue (my other CCC) go on about what if the cake really is for a couple of lesbians, and would Peg have done the cake if it was, and all that until it finally ended with Sue telling Peg about some jack ass talk radio program she listened to who had some speaker on who UESED TO BE GAY and I had to stifle my urge to say “Used to be gay? That just means he’s in the closet until someone catches him in the bathroom of a truck stop paying a male prostitute to give him head.” BUT I didn’t. After all, as I told a friend, I’m not there to make a political statement, I’m there to earn a paycheck. Quite frankly, people like that can’t be reasoned with – ignorance and intolerance are hard to get rid of. After they had that conversation I really, really hoped it WAS for a LESBIAN couple and that they would pick it up while she was still working, hand in hand, chains on their wallets, snuggled up to each other, wearing their Melissa Etheridge t-shirts.
As if that wasn’t enough for one day, just a bit later Peg was telling Sue about being at a public park with her husband and daughter. Part way through the story she says “Now I’m not RACIST, but…” and went on to tell about all the TRASHY MEXICANS that were there. As we all know, any statement that starts like that is going to be extremely racist. This time I tuned out their patter, with occasional parts of it filtering through my mind humming Amy Winehouse’s Rehab. In that one conversation they covered the ‘trashy Mexicans’, how they need to learn English, not be on welfare and stop coming over here – well she said ILLEGALY, but you know she really meant AT ALL. Racist.
I’ve worked there for 2 months and I really wish I could say that this was the FIRST time I heard her say such things, but it’s not. I’ve figured out that anytime she’s going to say some horrible sweeping comment about a group of non white people that she’ll start it with “I’m not RACIST, but…” to make it all polite and sweet. I guess I’ll have to remember that, next time I have something snarky to say about hypocritical conservative Christians I’ll just say “I’m not racist, but…” first and then she can’t get pissed at me. (Eyes rolling up in head)
Sunday, July 29, 2007
In My Next Life
I’m going to come back as a man. I’m going to be the dad. I’m going to be the one who doesn’t have to worry about changing my plans for anyone else. I’m going to be the ‘baby-sitter’ not the ‘care giver’. I’m going to be the fun one, not the disciplinarian. I’ll be the one asking about where dinner is and not the one making it. I’ll be the one taking out a bag of garbage and calling it a day, not the one washing a mountain of laundry. My next life I will possess the penis. Right now I’ll settle for being the one who makes the voodoo dolls and plots horribly uncomfortable circumstances.
note – this is just me being pissed and venting a little. I’m not discounting all the marvelous dads who do it ALL and I do know a few most fabulous men do it all and more… And I’m available to any of you wonderful men who are reading this ;)
Mood Music: Amy Winehouse – Stronger Than Me
You should be stronger than me
You been here 7 years longer than me
Don't you know you're supposed to be the man,
Not pal in comparison to who you think I am,
You always wanna talk it through - I don't care!
I always have to comfort you when I'm there
But that's what I need you to do - stroke my hair!
Cos' I've forgotten all of young love's joy,
Feel like a lady, but you my lady boy,
You should be stronger than me,
But instead you're longer than frozen turkey,
Why'd you always put me in control?
All I need is for my man to live up to his role,
Always wanna talk it through- I'm ok,
Always have to comfort you every day,
But that's what I need you to do - are you gay?
Cause I've forgotten all of young love's joy
Feel like a lady, and you my lady boy
He said 'the respect I made you earn -
Thought you had so many lessons to learn'
I said 'You don't know what love is - get a grip!' -
Sounds as if you're reading from some other tired script
I'm not gonna meet your mother anytime
I just wanna rip your body over mine
So tell me why you think that's a crime
I've forgotten all of young love's joy
Feel like a lady, and you my lady boy
You should be stronger than me
You should be stronger than me
You should be stronger than me
I’m going to come back as a man. I’m going to be the dad. I’m going to be the one who doesn’t have to worry about changing my plans for anyone else. I’m going to be the ‘baby-sitter’ not the ‘care giver’. I’m going to be the fun one, not the disciplinarian. I’ll be the one asking about where dinner is and not the one making it. I’ll be the one taking out a bag of garbage and calling it a day, not the one washing a mountain of laundry. My next life I will possess the penis. Right now I’ll settle for being the one who makes the voodoo dolls and plots horribly uncomfortable circumstances.
note – this is just me being pissed and venting a little. I’m not discounting all the marvelous dads who do it ALL and I do know a few most fabulous men do it all and more… And I’m available to any of you wonderful men who are reading this ;)
Mood Music: Amy Winehouse – Stronger Than Me
You should be stronger than me
You been here 7 years longer than me
Don't you know you're supposed to be the man,
Not pal in comparison to who you think I am,
You always wanna talk it through - I don't care!
I always have to comfort you when I'm there
But that's what I need you to do - stroke my hair!
Cos' I've forgotten all of young love's joy,
Feel like a lady, but you my lady boy,
You should be stronger than me,
But instead you're longer than frozen turkey,
Why'd you always put me in control?
All I need is for my man to live up to his role,
Always wanna talk it through- I'm ok,
Always have to comfort you every day,
But that's what I need you to do - are you gay?
Cause I've forgotten all of young love's joy
Feel like a lady, and you my lady boy
He said 'the respect I made you earn -
Thought you had so many lessons to learn'
I said 'You don't know what love is - get a grip!' -
Sounds as if you're reading from some other tired script
I'm not gonna meet your mother anytime
I just wanna rip your body over mine
So tell me why you think that's a crime
I've forgotten all of young love's joy
Feel like a lady, and you my lady boy
You should be stronger than me
You should be stronger than me
You should be stronger than me
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