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Showing posts from January, 2009

It's cute how you think I'm listening.

It's late, and once again I'm working into the wee hours. I can't think for the life of me what to blog about. Not true. I have several topics, but all of which require extensive brain usage, none of which I currently have. I could list them for you, but that would be boring. And really it would only serve as a reminder for me to try and write about tomorrow. Wellll, since you talked me into it... 1. People who talk to me like they are my boss, but are most definitely not. 2. Fun with Sprint 3. SPAZMATICS TOMORROW NIGHT (wow, that one took a lot of energy. you didn't catch that from the all caps?) 4. The poo contest the cat and the kid are having (how would you measure that? an odormometer? is that a word? its at least close to a word...right?) 5. That feeling when I feel like the creepy crawlies on my neck are trying to rip my spine through my pores. Ok, very sleepy now. Eyes closing, fingers fumbling on the keyboard, and I can actually hear myself snoring..........zzz

I like you uglies, but don't talk to me.

It's late.  And I'm exhausted.  Watching two episodes of American Idol in a row will do that to you.  Especially when your trachea (pronounced Tray She Ah) gets irricatated by your rectums.  And no, I haven't lost it.  Those were actual words used by a contestant on yesterday's San Francisco AI, which I just watched tonight.  And no, I'm not providing a link.  I can't find it.  But it was hilarious. I can't decide if I want to take a shower tonight or in the morning.  Oh, the pressure of it all. Do you ever feel like the dirty dishes breed?  I mean, I did dishes today around 3:30pm, and now I've got a sink full of dirty ones.  What the hell. I think I'm gonna take that shower.  I'm cold, and it'll help warm me up before I jump into bed.  Or not, I dunno.  Did I mention I'm exhausted? This HAS to be the dumbest post EVER.

I've been naughty. So what?

Ok. So I just realized that the inauguration this morning was at 11 am. Oh no, I watched it, I'm not having this realization because I missed it. I'm having the realization that it was at 11 am. Which is what time the Young and the Restless comes on. And I'm betting that CBS covered it, because why wouldn't they be like the rest of the sheep in this country who was glued into the coverage (and yes, I totally was too. But only because I thought my shows would be safely recording at home on the DVR. Don't ask me to explain my logic to you. It will only leave both of us confused, me angry, and you with a bruise on your head from where the stapler I threw hit it). Why wouldn't they dare to be different, to REALIZE CHANGE? Ugh. Now I have to wait until tomorrow to find out what happens to Amber and Katherine and all my other friends. I know. I'm sad. YES I watched the inauguration today. I kind of led a revolt at work in order to watch it. Let me es

Your ugliness cheers me up.

The week before I took off from Christmas (I remember specifically, it was that Monday), I went to lunch with a co-worker.  We went to this place that's fairly new, and when we got there, questioned whether or not it was open.  I noticed a waiter type standing by the bar, peeked in, and asked if the joint was available.  He indicated it was, and said we could sit wherever.  Duh.  The place was empty.  I saw tumbleweeds.  So we picked out a table, and Mr. Waiter came over to introduce himself and get our drink orders.  He was good looking, and said his name was Brent.  I work with a Brent, and being the friendly type I am, I said as such, and instigated a conversation.  There was brief flirting.  Lunch moved forward, we ordered, whatever.  I can't remember a lot of the specific details because I have slept since then, but at some point he came and sat down next to us and chatted for a bit.  As we got our receipts back, I made some joke about leaving my number on the back for him

You're icky and that's sad.

I don't normally do any sort of political posting.  I simply don't have time to brush up on stuff like I used to pre-toddler.  Point is, if you read past this paragraph, and you get pissed off, don't say you weren't warned.  This coming Tuesday is going to be a big day in the history of this great country.  And regardless of how you voted, you can't help but admit that it's exciting times.  For once, in our life times, we get to be a part of a huge moment that didn't involve the death of millions of people.  Or of Brad and Angelina adopting another shade of kid. That being said, Barack Obama is just a man.  Regardless of the color of his skin, he is not going to cure the economy, he is not going to stop the fighting, he is not going to banish unemployment, and he is not going to house the homeless.  Sure, he may take steps towards that, but realistically, until he is in office for more than just one term, those steps won't even begin to matter.  The econ

Shave and a Haircut...Twoooooo Biiiiiiiits

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Except no shave. I took The Smoodge to Sharkey's today for a hair cut.  She's been sticking her hair in her mouth and chewing on it, then ripping it out of her mouth while still clamped between her teeth.  Which makes this hair ripping sound that is not too far from nails on a chalkboard.  Which in turn makes me want to jab a paperclip through my retina.  It also means that at the end of the day the sides of her hair resemble the texture of the hair in this picture.   I'm entirely too scared to cut her hair myself.  When I was little, my mom took me to a place to get my hair cut, and instead they cut into the bottom of my right ear lobe.  I still have the scar.  And am still severely traumatized.  So when I think about cutting The Smoodge's hair, I have all these horrible visions of her coughing and jamming the sharp end of the scissors up her nose, or through her temple.  Try explaining THAT one to CPS.  I have cut her bangs a couple of times, but that's usually

Good or Bad?

I'm not sure which of those categories this day falls into.  Or this week really.  It's just been one of those...? Monday was the day the (son of a bitch) ex took The Smoodge and didn't bring her back like he was supposed to.  That was bad.  I filed a report with SAPD.  That was eh.  I was told by SAPD to have New Braunfels PD escort me to his residence to pick her up.  That was hopeful.  NBPD says they don't do that...for anyone.  Seriously, like they needed to clarify.  Which tells me that they DO do it, just not when it involves a member of their own.  That was bad.  Then the officer, Frank Moreno (oh yeah, I'm gonna call you out), tells me that while NBPD doesn't do that (for anyone), the Constable does, and would I mind waiting a few minutes for one to call me?  That was promising.  The constable calls, and they don't do that without a judges order.  Which is confusing, because I thought that's what the divorce decree was.  Apparently not.  Even tho

Houston

I'm tired.  I was going to be in bed an hour ago, but I have this awesome allergy trick where I feel like I'm trying to swallow a rock.  Not that I've ever tried to swallow a rock, but if I did, I can imagine this is what it would feel like.  Anyone caring to try that rock swallowing thing, let me know, we'll compare notes.  Anyway, the rock swallowing thing is keeping me from sleeping. I went to Houston today.  That's, like, 3 hours away.  Drove there, went to a meeting, had lunch, drove back.  At least it was with a good looking Brit.  Who is funny.  So that helps. The end.

You can talk to me, but where will we put the barf?

Second time using my little calendar for a title, and I have to say this one is my favorite thus far :) Just found out that I'm going to Houston tomorrow. Whoo. Freakin'. Hoo. Leaving SA at 8:15am, to drive to an 11am meeting with the stinkin' union, then turn back around and be home by 5pm. How much fun is THAT going to be? Seriously. At least I'm not doing it alone, I'm actually riding down there with the VP of the company, and he's a pretty entertaining dude. And he's British, so even just talking to him is interesting. Yeah. That won't get old at all after 6 hours in a car. Nope. Not even a little bit. The ex took The Smoodge this morning and is insisting he's keeping her tonight. He knows about her therapy. I'm really not sure what I'll do if he doesn't bring her back. I have several options, the most fun being the fact that he's pissed me off and left me without any responsibilities. I'm thinking yard forking

Options

Me: You wanna eat? The Smoodge: No. Me: You wanna go get me a diaper? TS: No. Me: Wanna go potty? TS: No. Me: Wanna go jump off a tall tower? TS: Tower? *sigh

Bored

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Sunday afternoon, and I'm waiting for The Smoodge to wake up from her nap.  In the meantime, I've changed the look of my blog about six times.  Not sure how I feel about this one, but I guess I'll roll with it for a bit.  At least until I find something I like better. Those stinkin' allergies are attacking me again.  I never used to have any issues with allergies.  I mean, randomly I'd have weird issues with things like grass.  Or stuffed animal hair.  I know, that one freaks me out too.  But other than that, all the cedar and pollen and blah blah blah never bothered me.  Until.  I had The Smoodge.  I am pretty sure it's really HER that I'm allergic too, and the other stuff is just what triggers the external reactions.  I mean, who WOULDN'T be allergic to this: I'm pretty sure everyone is allergic to ninja babies.

A Day in the Life of Someone Who Deals with a Moron Baby Daddy

Ok, I realize this may be cheating just a bit, because it's not a real blog entry, it's just cutting and pasting an email conversation between myself and my AWESOME (said with only a hint of sarcasm) ex-husband.  But.  It IS actually the kind of crap I deal with from him on a regular basis, and since I have to deal with it, I thought it only fair that you should share in the bull shit. For the back story, The Smoodge and I went on a two week vacation over the holidays.  I let him know in accordance with the damn divorce decree, and he agreed.  We got back this last weekend, and he started this email conversation with me on Thursday.  He's in red (because that's what color evil is) and I'm in blue.  The ONLY thing I've changed is her name to The Smoodge (because that would be weird if that's how we referred to her in real life.  that's just for you crazies). Mandy, Since you were out of town during my weekend visitation with her, I will keep her overnight

This May Be Rhetorical But...

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...should I be pissed about this? Right leg. Left leg. Outside of left arm. Inside of left arm. Right arm. Chin. No, these are not crime scene photos.  This is what The Smoodge looks like after a week, yes folks, that's FIVE DAYS, at her current daycare.  Three of those injuries they had reported to me.  The other three, I found on my own once I got her home.  I know they are toddlers.  I know toddlers are little ass holes.  But this?  Seriously? I think I'm done.  This has been going on for awhile now, with the biting and what not, and I just don't know what else to do.  So.  Anyone know of a good, decently priced daycare in San Antonio near the Quarry?

Not Listening

I got myself one of those Happy Bunny daily calendar thingies. You know, the ones where each day has it's own witty commentary and picture? It's hilarious. It will also be used to title my blogs. Be prepared for the title and the subject to have nothing to do with each other. Unless I don't have anything else to write about, in which case I will derive inspiration from its sarcastic powers. It's unbelievably hard to get back into the groove of this. To the point where it's beginning to intimidate me. I think what also intimidates me is that I am aware of who some of my audience is (hi Mom!), and it restricts some of the things I want to write about. The whole point of this was to be able to vent, to get things out of my head so it didn't cause my brain to explode through my eyeballs and splatter all over the monitor. Because most of the time I'm not blogging on my own equipment, but on someone else's, and that would be rude. Not only am I not w