I have chosen to spend my morning in a state of utter and extreme boredom. This was an active choice, because I have more than enough that needs done around here. Cleaning the house-dishes, laundry, vacuuming, tidying up, etc. Sewing- there's a lot of things that need mending between the kids playing hard in their favorite clothes, me being clumsy, and the boyfriend working hard. Making lists and researching- I'm currently in the process of purchasing a new home, and it is going to need a lot of TLC before we actually move in. Exercising- I'm supposed to do a regular physical therapy routine to combat my achy and injured body and mind. It's hard to be motivated when everything hurts a bunch.
I was accused last night of having our next 20 years planned out. This was immediately after I failed to remember to plan dinner for that evening until well after the children were complaining of starvation. (You know, three hours after eating a healthy and hearty lunch.) There are a lot of things I'd like to see done in the next 20 years. Mostly, I'd like them to differ greatly from the previous 20. I can't believe I'm pushing 30. I can't believe I'm buying a house. I can't believe I made the decision of which house to purchase based solely on the size of the garage. (That's a lie. That doesn't surprise me, or anyone else, at all.) It's scary trying to plan a future in such uncertain times, especially because I can barely remember to plan a trip to the grocery store before we're out of everything necessary to make a proper meal. Whether our days our carefully calculated, or completely spontaneous down to the moment, I'm finding myself stopping quite often to reflect on how good things are. This has helped tremendously with the cost of my self-prescribed high dose of retail therapy, which in turn will be helpful in fixing and furnishing the new place.
Nothing in this post will have been of any interest to anyone, including myself. I was just procrastinating so I didn't have to fold laundry. The dryer's persistent buzzing is encouraging to me descend into the basement and beat it into submission and silence though, so I'm off...
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Several Mean Pontiacs, and One Ugly One
I do a lot of driving. Seriously a LOT of it. I'm talking hundreds of miles a week. I notice a lot of things on my journeys. Gas is cheaper in New Jersey than it is in Pennsylvania. Traffic circles and jug handles are idiotic 90(ish)% of the time. There are some really beautiful things to see out the windows of my car. There are some really shitty places too. I see a lot.
For example, today I saw an unbelievably ratty Lincoln Town Car with a completely wrecked suspension- the left side of the car was just about dragging on the ground, while the right side was raised up, and it wasn't because a fat guy was driving. It was just a hunk of shit. Yet, the guy driving, doing his little "gangsta lean" was getting a blow job while driving. Are you serious? I understand the whole road head thing. I do. What I don't understand is how one can have low enough self esteem to engage in this act for someone driving something so heinous, or even being in the bag of shit car with them at all. (Not to mention the whole 'lean thing.)
Another thing I took notice to lately was that most Pontiac vehicles, especially white ones, have a badass, mean look to the front of them. The G8, the GTO, even the G6, or and old Grand Prix.... when seeing them in the rearview mirror, they look like they're the boss. I passed a few white Pontiacs the other day and it popped into my mind- they look authoritative. Their car line was going through my head, and I was thinking about how much I like the look.... and then I pulled up next to a white Pontiac Aztec, and it ruined the whole fucking idea for me *snap* just like that.
People do some crazy stuff while driving. I don't just mean talking on the cell phone or applying mascara. They never cease to amaze me with their creativity, or their multitasking abilities. Even I cannot manage to drive, smoke a cigarette, and dunk a doughnut in the coffee I'm drinking while doing a crossword puzzle I found when I was reading the newspaper and texting my boss about the reports I'm reading on my laptop on the passenger seat. Who paints their nails while driving? I can see it, maybe, if you're stuck in dead stopped traffic, but while doing 90 on the freeway? Really? Remember PS1, with the tiny screen? Play Tony Hawk while driving? Wowzas!
One final note before I go back to watching my movie... Big American Trucks are sexy.
The End.
For example, today I saw an unbelievably ratty Lincoln Town Car with a completely wrecked suspension- the left side of the car was just about dragging on the ground, while the right side was raised up, and it wasn't because a fat guy was driving. It was just a hunk of shit. Yet, the guy driving, doing his little "gangsta lean" was getting a blow job while driving. Are you serious? I understand the whole road head thing. I do. What I don't understand is how one can have low enough self esteem to engage in this act for someone driving something so heinous, or even being in the bag of shit car with them at all. (Not to mention the whole 'lean thing.)
Another thing I took notice to lately was that most Pontiac vehicles, especially white ones, have a badass, mean look to the front of them. The G8, the GTO, even the G6, or and old Grand Prix.... when seeing them in the rearview mirror, they look like they're the boss. I passed a few white Pontiacs the other day and it popped into my mind- they look authoritative. Their car line was going through my head, and I was thinking about how much I like the look.... and then I pulled up next to a white Pontiac Aztec, and it ruined the whole fucking idea for me *snap* just like that.
People do some crazy stuff while driving. I don't just mean talking on the cell phone or applying mascara. They never cease to amaze me with their creativity, or their multitasking abilities. Even I cannot manage to drive, smoke a cigarette, and dunk a doughnut in the coffee I'm drinking while doing a crossword puzzle I found when I was reading the newspaper and texting my boss about the reports I'm reading on my laptop on the passenger seat. Who paints their nails while driving? I can see it, maybe, if you're stuck in dead stopped traffic, but while doing 90 on the freeway? Really? Remember PS1, with the tiny screen? Play Tony Hawk while driving? Wowzas!
One final note before I go back to watching my movie... Big American Trucks are sexy.
The End.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
I am a celebrity, and ignorant adults are a large annoyance.
Amazing Friday night! Joey has been trying to get me out to the 'hood to visit this bar for a while now. Last night I caved. Baby Sister Rose watched the minis and I went out with the fam. Keywords: Ronald McDonald, Snowball, Jesse James, Sandra Bullock, Jenna Jameson, Sean Penn, karaoke, Barbie Girl, drinking, hookers, pimp with no cane or cool shoes, Applebees, assumption, racked. Long story short, Snowball can't sing, Cody and Carly are cute as can be, Joey doesn't do what he's told, Jesse James is my husband, Jack is my boyfriend, and nobody fought anybody. I should be recovery sleeping, and I will in a bit, but I want to write this next part down because it really irritated me.
A church in Downingtown hosted an Easter Egg Hunt for the kids. They did a nice job, even had Hip Hop from the 76ers come out and give away a bunch of stuff. They had a large section of Kerr Park sectioned off into 4 quarters to accommodate the different age groups. At first that concerned me because I'm only one person and I have two children, and the 3-4 and 7-8 sections were on opposite sides, but then they announced that they would be going one age group at a time for that reason exactly. The announcer was talking, saying he would signal the start of the hunt and giving information about special prizes and such. Two or three kids escaped their parents in the 3-4-year-old section, and the announcer said "Not yet!" No one listened. People started turning their kids loose on the field, against the announcer's protest. Adults were telling their children to ignore him and go for it. Parents were trampling other people's kids to pick up eggs. Yes, little plastic eggs with a single piece of candy inside. I refused to let my children behave in such a manner, or to let them see me behave like that. They did end up grabbing a slim few eggs after the announcer said "Oh, fine, do whatever you want." or something like that and I let them go. Because of the obnoxious adults, I had Shayne gripped firmly in one hand and was keeping a close eye on Brad who is always good about staying with me. These crazy parents swarmed around us and for a few minutes I could not find Bradley. Parents. Assholes, really. Once I finally found him, he was standing by the table where I told him to meet me if we got separated. Good kid. Smart kid. Shayne only got her hands on one egg, and he'd managed to grab a few. Without being asked Brad offered to share with her. She was in tears. "Why were the grown ups taking my eggs? I didn't get to get any?" and so on. I told her that I was sorry that the other parents were being so ignorant, and in turn teaching their little fucker monster children that it was ok to be so ignorant (because, let's keep in mind, this is a free event, that these nice church people were nice enough to plan, and put together, and pay for, and give their time for) but that since she and Brad had behaved so well that I'd take them to the store and they could each pick whatever candy they wanted, or I'd take them to Rita's. They decided they wanted water ice and off we went... I was really proud of my babies today because of how well they listened and respected each other and the people around them, and because they're not little assholes with complete disregard for other people. I know I can be rough sometimes, but I teach my children right from ignorant. Anyways, I am half-tempted to write a note to the church that hosted the event, thanking them for their time and effort, and apologizing on behalf of all the normal people everywhere for the behavior of those ignorant adults and their learned-ignorant children. Next year I'm sticking to hiding eggs myself in the house and the yard. The hell with events. I like to get the kids out and playing and socializing, however I don't like when the masses are such a bad influence on them.
Side note: I just heard them talking on tv (not watching because I'm typing) and saying the president was about to come on with some sort of address. I thought "oh fuck, he'll be on every channel again!" but then I realized it was just SNL.
Anyways, I forget what I was going on about... Recovery sleep time!
A church in Downingtown hosted an Easter Egg Hunt for the kids. They did a nice job, even had Hip Hop from the 76ers come out and give away a bunch of stuff. They had a large section of Kerr Park sectioned off into 4 quarters to accommodate the different age groups. At first that concerned me because I'm only one person and I have two children, and the 3-4 and 7-8 sections were on opposite sides, but then they announced that they would be going one age group at a time for that reason exactly. The announcer was talking, saying he would signal the start of the hunt and giving information about special prizes and such. Two or three kids escaped their parents in the 3-4-year-old section, and the announcer said "Not yet!" No one listened. People started turning their kids loose on the field, against the announcer's protest. Adults were telling their children to ignore him and go for it. Parents were trampling other people's kids to pick up eggs. Yes, little plastic eggs with a single piece of candy inside. I refused to let my children behave in such a manner, or to let them see me behave like that. They did end up grabbing a slim few eggs after the announcer said "Oh, fine, do whatever you want." or something like that and I let them go. Because of the obnoxious adults, I had Shayne gripped firmly in one hand and was keeping a close eye on Brad who is always good about staying with me. These crazy parents swarmed around us and for a few minutes I could not find Bradley. Parents. Assholes, really. Once I finally found him, he was standing by the table where I told him to meet me if we got separated. Good kid. Smart kid. Shayne only got her hands on one egg, and he'd managed to grab a few. Without being asked Brad offered to share with her. She was in tears. "Why were the grown ups taking my eggs? I didn't get to get any?" and so on. I told her that I was sorry that the other parents were being so ignorant, and in turn teaching their little fucker monster children that it was ok to be so ignorant (because, let's keep in mind, this is a free event, that these nice church people were nice enough to plan, and put together, and pay for, and give their time for) but that since she and Brad had behaved so well that I'd take them to the store and they could each pick whatever candy they wanted, or I'd take them to Rita's. They decided they wanted water ice and off we went... I was really proud of my babies today because of how well they listened and respected each other and the people around them, and because they're not little assholes with complete disregard for other people. I know I can be rough sometimes, but I teach my children right from ignorant. Anyways, I am half-tempted to write a note to the church that hosted the event, thanking them for their time and effort, and apologizing on behalf of all the normal people everywhere for the behavior of those ignorant adults and their learned-ignorant children. Next year I'm sticking to hiding eggs myself in the house and the yard. The hell with events. I like to get the kids out and playing and socializing, however I don't like when the masses are such a bad influence on them.
Side note: I just heard them talking on tv (not watching because I'm typing) and saying the president was about to come on with some sort of address. I thought "oh fuck, he'll be on every channel again!" but then I realized it was just SNL.
Anyways, I forget what I was going on about... Recovery sleep time!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
February is now my least favorite. Oh wait, it always was.
February is such a bullshit month. It's lazy and it's short, it just doesn't fit in with the rest of the year. It snows more in February than any other month, at least in Pennsylvania, at least that's what Glen "Hurricane" Schwartz says. The only thing it has to offer is this Valentine's Day bullshit, which I've always thought was a total crock.
I was hoping to have this costume party on V-Day, as sort of a 'Hey, fuck you!' to the half-assed holiday, but all of my not-single friends will be otherwise engaged in activities with their significant others, and all of my single friends will more likely than not be out trolling for other vulnerable singles) and who can blame them... it's typically a night of easy pickin's... So, Denise and I are shooting for the 19th or 20th. It'll be a good time no matter what the date, as long as we can find a place to hold this event. Hopefully by then I'll be done being a miserable bitch.
Which brings me to why I now hate February more than I ever have before. On the 10th of February it will be one year since my baby brother, Dean, passed away. I still haven't really processed it. I spend most of my time pretending really hard that it didn't happen, and convincing myself that every day of the past year has just been a bad dream that I will wake up from. I have little-to-no motivation to do anything more than just that pretending and convincing. I used to want to do things with my life, now I just want my brother to answer his phone, or be in the car with Logan when he pulls into the driveway. I realize that it's time to get past this denial state, but it's working for me, so I'm going to stick with it.
It is going to snow again tonight. Fuck snow. I need Spring, well, Summer really would be the better option, but I'll take some Spring until Summer rolls around. I'm tired of being cold. I'm cranky enough without all the joint pain that comes with all of this cold and wet weather. I never thought that at 24 I'd have all of these old lady joint and muscle problems.
To Whomever Is In Charge: Can I please rewind to before August 2008. Maybe like the last days of July. I want to go to after I got rid of that fucking Saturn SUC (SUV), but to before the accident that turned out to be the beginning of the end. Please? Thanks.
Now I lost my train of thought, if I ever even had one. It's so bed time.
I was hoping to have this costume party on V-Day, as sort of a 'Hey, fuck you!' to the half-assed holiday, but all of my not-single friends will be otherwise engaged in activities with their significant others, and all of my single friends will more likely than not be out trolling for other vulnerable singles) and who can blame them... it's typically a night of easy pickin's... So, Denise and I are shooting for the 19th or 20th. It'll be a good time no matter what the date, as long as we can find a place to hold this event. Hopefully by then I'll be done being a miserable bitch.
Which brings me to why I now hate February more than I ever have before. On the 10th of February it will be one year since my baby brother, Dean, passed away. I still haven't really processed it. I spend most of my time pretending really hard that it didn't happen, and convincing myself that every day of the past year has just been a bad dream that I will wake up from. I have little-to-no motivation to do anything more than just that pretending and convincing. I used to want to do things with my life, now I just want my brother to answer his phone, or be in the car with Logan when he pulls into the driveway. I realize that it's time to get past this denial state, but it's working for me, so I'm going to stick with it.
It is going to snow again tonight. Fuck snow. I need Spring, well, Summer really would be the better option, but I'll take some Spring until Summer rolls around. I'm tired of being cold. I'm cranky enough without all the joint pain that comes with all of this cold and wet weather. I never thought that at 24 I'd have all of these old lady joint and muscle problems.
To Whomever Is In Charge: Can I please rewind to before August 2008. Maybe like the last days of July. I want to go to after I got rid of that fucking Saturn SUC (SUV), but to before the accident that turned out to be the beginning of the end. Please? Thanks.
Now I lost my train of thought, if I ever even had one. It's so bed time.
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