Dairy Queen FFS!

Mandatory Mondays

2009-03-02T09:58:00.007-05:00

*Mandatory Mondays*

They roll around every week, whether you're ready or not. Even as a "non-working" full-time mommy, these mandatory Mondays are daunting. "Non-working" but "full-time mommy," what an oxymoron. Or maybe I'm a moron and I should be cleaning something with oxi-clean instead? I just don't know these days. I sit here and type and wonder how to support us from home. Then I wonder why I'm just wondering and not doing. Or AM I doing? Am I? I hope so.

So these mandatory Mondays always follow lazy Sundays, every damned time. And ya know what? Even though I have no "job" to get to by 9, I have no power lunches scheduled unless you count wrangling against a 16 month old's power struggle to escape his highchair, these mandatory Mondays hit hard. They remind me of the mainstream that I somehow crawled out of, covered with muck and clutching a lone piece of driftwood... I try not to listen to the many "legitimate" voices like family, "friends" and "authorities" that insist that I MUST jump back into that mainstream if I want to survive, if I want my son to survive in this world. Which is ironic, since I find the mainstream a threat in itself.

There has to be another way, there just has to. Why should I have to sell my soul to work for someone else instead of myself, why should I have to sellout just so I can then pay most of my earnings for yet someone else to raise my child? How can I find a way to become truly self sufficient? Somehow, I'm led to write even though I know the whole "starving artist" fate all too well...

Mandatory Mondays make me maudlin, missing mental-health mundane days... Or even a manic Monday would be nice, that creative rush that would have the house all tidy and a novella written and the baby entertained and dinner ready all before noon. But nope. Here I sit, staring at the computer monitor, cursing this Mandatory Monday. Cursing my nervous stomach that prevents me from jump-starting the day with coffee. Cursing the pill that I reluctantly yet gratefully swallow for relief instead. Oh, it's a "bitter pill to swallow."

I remember how I got here. I try to forget. I try to ignore the significance of this past weekend, our "fake wedding anniversary," another blog, another monday perhaps... I fail at forgetting this weekend two years ago and how happy I was then. How all my dreams seemed to manifest in a glorious promising future when Mondays were magnificent and there was another set of helping hands that I trusted to pull me out of the mainstream and that I believed when they painted a picture of everything I'd ever desired. Those same hands were also pulling wool over my eyes at the time and have since pushed me, pulled me, and provoked me. Those hands are out of my face now but they still push buttons, like sinister puppet masters that won't give up. Those hands that pulled me out of the mainstream and took away my flotation device, my driftwood, in the name of "you won't need this anymore." Well, those same hands have now pushed me back in, wool still over my eyes, steel wool in disguise... I float on down the river and pull myself out this time. Now I look at my precious son's own tiny hands reaching up to me, looking to me for everything, EVERYTHING. I don't want to fail him. I don't want to fail me.

Mandatory Mondays. Can I get a hall pass today? No???

**sneaks out the backdoor while noone is looking, runs like mad to the nearest non-mainstream with son in tow and skips rocks the rest of the day, counting the ripples, and soaking up the sun, my son**

Mandatory Mondays can suck my wind. I'm gonna go fly a kite.

For Hire

2009-02-05T12:10:00.005-05:00

As I'm supposed to be finishing my freakin financial affifuckindavit (for the deeeevorceofcourseofcourse), damnit, how bout this:

To Whom it may concern,
Here is my affufuckindavid: "I'M BROKE AS A JOKE, like a freakin fabergé egg that fell off the top of the empire fucking state building!!!!!!! That is all."

Instead, I obsess on finding a "real job" and why can't someone just pay me to be me...

And I came up with this coverletter...

To Mr. No Self Control Inundies,

Hello, I am writing to you in the highest, and I DO mean HIGHEST hopes of becumming your newest and most qualified nutsandberries specialist with an emphasis in dried fruit, fine wines and wildflowers.... Please let me know if I have any positions that you would like to fill...

Awesomely yours,
Dairy Queen FFS!

one more olive jar later

2009-01-28T07:46:00.005-05:00

once again
the morning breaks
my resolve broken
too many words
left unspoken
unopened kitkats
crumpled paper bag
left out on the floor
no safety in
an unlocked door
doubt I'll ever
see you again
doubt you know
the effort it took
for me to /grin
oh well,
whatever,
who cares,
right?
I stare at the olive jar
and forget the night...

Testing Oh Testing

2009-01-24T07:12:00.002-05:00

Testing Oh Testing

Shoulda tested the marriage

But Baby Carriage ...

Don't get me wrong now

Our son is my pride and joy

But Daddy, Oh boy...

He's gone now I'm safe

I fight sad scar tissue now

For that, I give thanks.

Dear AssFace,

2008-11-13T10:29:00.012-05:00

Dear AssFace,

Please forget about taking me to the lab for bloodwork to figure out what is "wrong" with me... Do you think bloodwork reveal a shitty marriage???

[damn, I wish I'd included the above intro in the original email I just hit send on]

In fact, I don't want you near me until our "therapy" session (IF I CAN FIND A BABYSITTER during dinnertime! WTF). I don't want to see you. I don't even want to hear your voice. If you must call, I will answer but I will NOT call you, or your other family again (except for boy0 because he is the ONLY dependable one) unless it as an emergency that requires ambulance or firemen.

Let's get something straight:

Yesterday, you pulled a TOTAL MINDFUCK (excuse my language but don't know any better way to call a spade a spade) on me and THAT is why I blew my lid! You are UNBELIEVABLE!
You had been starting deep conversations since the day before and then abruptly cutting them off and refusing to speak further. You have said your mother did this with anything you ever liked.
You teased me into thinking you were ready to talk and work on getting back together - you even went so far as to ask me about your "roomate, wife but separated" about proposal advice!!! Isn't that how you refered to "your ex roomie" when we met? Just your roomate now, you were separated??? I'm beginning to suspect that you are a CON ARTIST.
YOU ABANDONED US. (argue whatever you want, but I begged you to stay, the baby seemed sick, I was sick, we both needed you, I begged with words, ourson begged with tears.) You IGNORED our pleas and RAN AWAY to your MOMMY! I CANNOT COUNT ON YOU - I USED to count on you and I THOUGHT I could count on you again BUT once again, you disappoint, let down, and prove that your word is NO GOOD. You walked out even though I begged you to stay. Mark my words, it will be the LAST time.
Yesterday's argument was ALL over YOUR refusal to answer a simple yes or no question with a yes or no answer.

me: "did you or did you not tell me you were on your way home last we talked? yes or no?"

you: "welli, but i just, no but, yes but, yadayadayadablablabla)"

Assface, i understand that things come up at work and that you have to stay late. What I do NOT understand is your absolute refusal to answer a straightforward question with a straightforward answer. Perhaps you tried to read into my question and think that I was not believing where you were or what your were doing. No, NOT the case. I was just trying to ask you what you had told me before. I didn't need to know what had happened since.

But now that I think about it, the fact that you can never answer the question about where you are or what you are doing is AWFULLY suspicious.

I SPENT ALL DAY CLEANING AND GATHERING SPECIAL THINGS THAT I THOUGHT WOULD HELP US TALK, ONCE AGAIN, I CLEARED THE TABLE AND TRIED TO MAKE IT NICE, I LIT THE MARITAL LIGHTS, I FOLDED LAUNDRY, I HUNG UP CLOTHES, I DID THE DISHES, I GOT ON MY HANDS AND KNEES AND SCRUBBED THE FLOOR, I VACUUMED...

AND YOU HAD THE NERVE TO ASK ME WHAT I DID TO PREPARE???

And let's not forget that I had been counting on you to play with ourson while I prepared dinner... He would not let me put him down yesterday and I had already set the stove on fire...

RESPECT:
You DEMAND that I speak to you with respect but that is IMPOSSIBLE because I do NOT respect you. Can you honestly read the above reminders and argue that you deserve even a SHRED of respect? I think I am being very generous in maintaining only three shreds of respect for you but they are not enough to negate the torture you have put me through. I respect that you are working so hard, that you are a good son, and WHEN you spend time with boy1 and boy2, you are playful and loving. You are NOT a parent to those boys, you're a buddy. I SUSPECT that is why boy1 won't listen to you and boy0 is distant. IF you EVEN want to right the wrongs of your past and be an ACTUAL PARENT and FATHER to babyNOW instead of just a playmate, you have LOTS of SOUL SEARCHING and childcare education to study up on. At this point Assface, actions speak louder than words. Your actions are SCREAMING that you do not want to be a father or a parent and certainly not a husband or even a good roommate!

If you still think that I should speak to you with respect, just because you are the MAN, let me remind you that you have also physically and verbally abused us in front of baby. And yes, I fought back fire with fire but in SELF DEFENSE - YOU were the INSTIGATOR so you CANNOT blame it back on ME! YOU HIT ME FIRST, you pathetic excuse for a man.

You mother said she "prayed for me" and my "anger." MY ANGER??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? Of COURSE I am angry, my husband either neglects, abuses, or "mindfucks" me. His family lives in COMPLETE denial and refuses to accept ANY responsibility or even acknowledge that anything is wrong.
I asked your "Mother" if she prayed for her son to stop abusing the MOTHER of her GRANDCHILD in front of him???
I asked her point blank: "Woman from DeNile, did you pray for AssFace to stop abusing me in front of BABY? Like I ASKED you, no BEGGED you to months before???"
She said: "No, I didn't. Because I never saw it. I'm trying to go to bed now."

When I initially had this conversation with your "Mother," she had the nerve to say to me:
"Well DQFFS, he probably shoves you because you provoke him by not returning to work."
(Yes, she did indeed say that and you HAVE to remember me telling you that before.)

NO WONDER YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO BE A GOOD PARENT BUT ONLY A PLAYMATE - YOUR MOTHER IS GOING TO BE IN FOR A BIG SURPRISE IF SHE EVER MEETS HER MAKER!!!

She neglected and abused you and your siblings. She may or may not have intended to, but SHE DID.

It is YOUR CHOICE whether or not to break the cycle.

So far, you are taking the coward's way and running away from your responsibilities and refusing to deal with your issues. It is your loss because with the way you are NOW, ourson and I are BOTH better off WITHOUT you in our lives.

You literally make me ill,
Have a happier life without us in it since you hate us so,
DQFFS!

Resolve of the Roller Coaster Stroller Poster

2008-11-13T07:57:00.003-05:00

My opinions flip-flop a lot. There are always so many sides to a situation but my heart remains true. And these blogs are no longer about bitching, they are my resolve to become a strong independent woman, whole in herself, dependent on noone. If some bitchy humor slips its tongue down your throat while you're not looking (and you know it will)then so be it. For whatever reason, the Three of you that I have invited to read this drivel are no accident to have crossed paths I believe and I thank you for charging the outlet where I am going to find myself, Godamnit.

I almost gave him the 1800th "second chance" yesterday. (I'm beginning to think he is a con artist). He admitted to being a complete jerkface, of never realizing that I thought he had "dissed me on our >wedding night<" or "left me at the altar" because we were eloping and I was all down on marriage and marriage is stupid and (OK I was but I didn't mean it was stupid in EVERY aspect, hello, I have ovaries.) The key word he deleted from his mind was CEREMONIES, I think lavish wedding CEREMONIES are stupid. We had planned to take sacred private vows with our midwife... earthmama goddess stuff, the real deal.

Anywho, he had the epiphany AFTER he chose to leave a few days ago that OMG, I really DID throw her trust and respect out the window - how could I be so clueless? I chalked it up to the testosterone and was thankful for this admission. He also admitted that he did not deserve my respect after the way that he had treated me and that he wanted to gain it back. He also admitted that he had no idea how to treat a Lady properly but he wanted to learn. He said he talked to his Dad (who every time he came out of his surgery's anesthaesia (whatever) last week, he asked about me and baby and was bigHim going to take us on vacation or do something nice for us?). His Dad has been telling him he needs to take ourson and I to the beach or SOMETHING at least anything. We have NEVER had a honeymoon. We have never had a vacation. We have never taken a long weekend. We have never gone to the beach. We can't leave the house due to our dysfunctions. 1.5 YEARS LIVING TOGETHER. The ONE vacation he has taken in two years (just last week), he spent ALONE at his parents except for two days that he came home for his son's first birthday. Stressful.

So anywho, he asks if he can talk to me about his "roommate", his "wife that he's separated from" (i'm already thinkiing IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL ME NOW to your stupid skanky hoe friends like you did when you met me and were still living with your ex- and I was STUPID enough to believe you when you said that you were just roommates...) FFS!! I don't ever even want to LOOk at his stupid penis again...

So anywho, he starts asking for advice how to get "her" back and would she like a proper ring and a "down on one knee" proposal...??? The little girl in me swooned, of COURSE I did! OF COURSE I FUCKING DID! Of course I wanted the father of my only child to actually be in love with me and want to make me his princess for life...
Who wouldn't??? Am I totally insane or just trying to believe that the father of my only child IS really good inside and that he WILL break his cycle of ignorance and abuse that his mother forced upon him??? Is that so WRONG? I don't think that makes me crazy, I think it makes me human.

My baby awakes, the tears must subside
Until I write again, let this anger ride...

Top Ten Reasons Why: He's The Asshole and I deserve to be The Bitch

2008-11-11T08:27:00.005-05:00

Top Ten Reasons Why: He's the Asshole

10. You Lost My Trust when ON OUR WEDDING NIGHT you:

were leaving sexual innuendo comments on some FAKE myspace skank's page because you were stupid enough to think she was real. AND THEN when confronted because you were stupid enough to leave your shit logged in on my computer and I asked you about it, you LIED. And not just any lie - oh no, a bald faced doozie. You told me that she was your ex-wife's niece and that you were commenting on the "delicious" spaghetti dinner she had made for you... You later admitted to making all of that up because I laughed at you and demanded you tell the truth. ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS TO THINK I WOULD BELIEVE THAT SHIT???

9. You Lost My Respect when you:

peeled out of town on our wedding day and left me at the altar. Pregnant. AFTER you had told both of our families that we had already married. Perfect start.

8. You Lost My Affection when you:

told me that sex with me was no good anyway. That I was a failure as a wife. When you and your father both questioned why any man would want to come home to me.

7. You Lost My "nice tone of voice" when you:

failed to listen to me the first 8 million times. You also make up your own interpretation of conversations by filling in the blanks around the few key words you grasp onto. This results in some nightmarish version of that "gossip telephone whatever game" gone terribly terribly wrong.

6. You Lost a Wife who gave a damn about housekeeping when you:

failed to clean up a damned thing after yourself or simply take out the trash or do absolutely anything around the house unless begged, pleaded and cattle prodded. When you accused me of trying to poison you. When I slaved for 2 days and even set the table for dinner and you deemed it a complete and utter failure because the timing got boffed while you sat your your fat ass and refused to do anything unless asked and explicitly directed step by step of the way what to do.

5. You Lost a Wife who was proud of you when:

you were overheard talking shit about me to your ex-wife, your mother, your father, your best friend, and ALL within earshot of me. You are either completely stupid or you just always hated me that much. When you called me a drunk to your family because I find solace in a large glass of wine (often two) a night, because on THREE occassions in the last YEAR, I drank a whole bottle to put myself to sleep when the tears or the pain wouldn't stop. (mother-in-law harassment, therapy nightmare, first period after birth) And I don't care what you say, I'm pretty sure that drinking wine spaced out over time while the baby sleeping is a hell of a lot healthier for my sanity than gobbling anti-anxiety meds...

4. You Lost a Wife who counted on you when:

you threatened to kick me out on the streets, knowing that I had nowhere that I could actually go. (yes, I had gracious friends offer me a place to live but I have severe allergies and they all have big dogs, which I am asthmatically deathly allergic to.) You fail to show even the most base comprehension of childcare, leaving me terrified to leave ourson in your care.

3. You Lost a Wife who felt safe and secure with you when:

You man-handled me while I was pregnant, you shoved me in front of our infant son, you pushed me as hard as you could in my chest, you grabbed my arms and picked me up and shook me, and you spit in my face and told me I was a piece of shit. (In the end, I was not the better person and I did mimic all of your hateful actions back to you but it's not in my nature to give in without a fight.) You regularly call me a stupid fucking bitch, cunt, you-name-it in front of our son.

2. You Lost a Wife who thought the sun rose and set in your eyes when:

You chose to walk out on your infant son and new wife instead of go to couples/family counseling. You were in a terrible accident years ago and have legitimate injuries which cause some of your hateful actions and yet you fail to get help.

1. You Lost a Wife and a Family when you:

NEVER EVEN TRIED. You had a beautiful loving family right in front of your face but you were too stubborn, lazy, and selfish to ever even notice.

I can't "attach" right now, I just can't.

2008-10-16T05:18:00.002-04:00

Sometimes, the best thing you can do, is to not do anything.

I am remembering my overbearing and overprotective mother, who I also recognize as having FIERCELY LOVED and PROTECTED me with the last dying embers of her soul, that still lives but is compromised.

I refuse to be a compromised Lady. I WILL SURVIVE!

The Last Wine Glass

2008-10-14T04:20:00.000-04:00

So I need to preface this tale with the 411 that I have shopping issues. Not clothes. Not the mall. Not flea markets. The grocery store. (or the "wine aisle" or the "liquor branch" if they have one.) Yes, that's right. I go to the grocery for a loaf of bread and come home with >insert random "on sale" madness here.<

Tonight, tonight my friends... (who am I kidding, for the WHOLE PAST WEEK I have been obsessing (OMG it's raining, brb...) OK, as a water sign, the rain is a glorious occasion that must be celebrated (most likely with Shiraz).

What was I saying? Oh yes, the wine glasses. I had gone to the grocery store for... well, shit. Part of my charm, is my compulsive honesty. I went to the grocery for WINE. That's right folks, mommy needed a glass of wine. Which just so happens that mommy had to buy a whole bottle of wine. Funny how glasses of wine come that way. Even the mini bottles come in 4 packs so it's just not green to go that way, too much packaging... So anyway, BigHim said "Honey, spend $40 on whatever."

>points madly at BigHim wanting to parrot him saying "you said whatever; you said whatever!!!" but refrains.<

So off I jaunt to the grocery with the baby just past sundown (daddy-gets-home-from-work playtime is so glorious, who can cut it short????). Here's another blog, what's with other mothers daring ask me what I'm doing out with a baby at this time of night. At NINE PM??? Oh call the curfew police, FFS! I'm trying to wear him out and get him to fall asleep you nosey ol' biotch!

So anyway, I think I'll scan the grocery receipt. It's priceless. Literally. I proudly proclaimed to BigHim that I had only spent $54 but saved $80! This prompted BigHim to start smoking at the ears and asking how that was even possible. He then began to spout of something about the stock market and IDK but whutevev and (brb I'm going to scanner. Never mind, I had a glass of wine instead.)

This grocery trip spawned several (lost count) "put-backs" (where I said OMG I can't buy that). So the other things besides wine that I had planned on getting with the $40 were MEAT and DESSERT. Neither of which I got, per se. Unless you count 5 cans of Chef Boyardee Mini Ravioli for $5 as MEAT or my Wine as DESSERT. I count those. I do. I count them. And I recount them. And I hold them in my hand and circle the grocery and contemplate putting them back and put them back and then pick them up again and maybe even put them back on the shelf AGAIN. (BRB have to eat some ravioli to counterbalance the shiraz).

OK, so here is what I ended up with for my $54:

2x Gatorade 8-packs (2 for $10)
1x Shiraz (5.99)
5x Mini Ravioli (5 for $5)
1x Buttoni Alfr Sauce (2 for $6 - and this is sacrilege because both BigHim and I can BOTH make a hella mean from-scratch Alfredo sauce but damnit, it was ON SALE and it looked SO EASY! I put back the marinara sauce to complete the "Buy two, and save..." you know, you still get a discount if you buy just one of the pairing. You do; you really do.)
1x Polly-O block of fresh Mozz ($3.69 - oxymoronic really, block of fressh mozz, but whutev. I had "put back" this cheese last trip to the store and now giddily put it back in my cart again. I am just dying for mozz, toms, garlic and basil tossed in pasta. Damn, I should have gotten a bottle of white wine too.)
1x Shaved Parmesan (3.79 and not on sale, but damn, it's a STAPLE!)
1x Buitoni 3 Chs Tort, whole wheat! (2 for $6 - I put back the 2nd pkg., which was also the LAST package of that kind of pasta, so this was very troubling for me. I have abandonment issues for the last product left on a shelf.)
1x California Roll ($5.49 - not on sale but YUM)

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN

6x Libby Wine 4 You Glasses ($1.50, normally $13!!!) Yes, I had mourned these glasses after already buying 2 last week and thinking that I just HAD to go back and get a proper place settings, worth, you know EIGHT! yes, EIGHT! Because I don't even have a "proper place setting" of dishes but By George, give me the wine glasses! In all fairness, they were red bowl glasses that can also be used for water, tea or soda. Well, originally, I had thought that I would just go back for two more glasses so that we could have a set of 4 if we ever had another couple over. But when I went back to the store a few days ago, the glasses were gone. Or so I thought. Until tonight. Tonight, on my way past the checkout, preparing to circle the grocery for the umpteenth time, I spotted the incredibly priced glasses atop the mini bottles of wine display! (OH! I broke my wine glasses sometime before pregnancy and have been drinking from coffee cup "chalices" and plastic Halloween goblets for the past, several months!) So I carefully placed TWO wine glasses in my cart and went about my way. I thought about how if we had 4 glasses, we might as well have 6, and I eventually found my way back to the glass display. I carefully placed two more glasses in the cart and began circling the store again. I was troubled now. There were only 2 more red bowl glasses left. How could I leave just 2 glasses up there? Why not get the proper set of EIGHT? I mean, how could I not? I went back and carefully made room for 2 more glasses. That left one oddball white wine glass left atop the display. How could I leave JUST ONE glass. One $1.50 glass. Just one more. For me! For Pinot Grigio! Into my shopping cart, the lonely glass found itself. The Last Wine Glass.

1x 8.5 oz Wine Stmwar ($3.29 - oops! It wasn't on sale but BigHim actually insisted I keep it since it was 1) "Made in Italy," 2) would allow me to have an actual glass and keep the proper set of 8 in our *gasp* proper sideboard!, and 3) was smaller than the other glasses, 4) it would be embarassing to return as I had suggested when I discoverd the price anomaly on the receipt. (and yes, I examine the receipt when I get home, proudly waving it and proclaiming Savings Domination!) I think the 3rd reason was the real cincher. OK, or maybe the 4th reason. Whutev.)

Grand Total = $54.37
MY SAVINGS *drumroll* = $79.20
Translation for men: I got $133.57 of BOOTY for only $54.37!

P.S. I had enough wine to confess to BigHIm that I've been secretly blogging about him and his family and asked if he wanted to read and he said "OH NO honey, but please please PLASE keep blogging." He did look sorta horrified. HER LUVS HIM>

Pillow Talk: You Rattle My Prattle

2008-10-13T08:11:00.005-04:00

DQ: Oh! There is my pillowcase, on your pillow!
(I had already noticed that my pillowcase had mysteriously hopped off my pillow and onto Big Him's. Luckily, I had a backup pillowcase on underneath the preferred pillowcase. So what if I have issues!!!)

BigHim: Huh?

DQ: My pillowcase. You stole my pillowcase. It's there on your pillow now.

BigHim: I don't understand.

DQ: That blue, soft jersey pillowcase (my favorite one), the one that is now on your "knee" pillow, that one-right there, the one that was on my pillow just last night. That pillowcase.

BigHim: I don't think so.

DQ: Yes, you swiped my pillowcase.

BigHim: Huh?

DQ: Whatever.

BigHim: Oh gawd, I hate whatever!

DQ: OK, fine.

BigHim: Ugggh! Why did you have to say FINE???

DQ: FFS, WAAAGH!!!

(Anyway, I thought I would share this lovely exchange for all of you other mothers who also fail at communications with their own BigHims in even the most basic of conversations.)

ishuldbwrkngchat

2008-10-09T08:25:00.001-04:00

Throughout my blogs, both past and present, you might notice a label that says "ishuldbwrkngchat." And what might such a label denote, you may ask? Why, it denotes a blog that is brought to you by "ishouldbeworkingchat"s (the real spelling wouldn't fit as label) with various or mainly one of my most genius of Muses! See, I pick the brains of my favorite peeps while they should be working and I should be finding work and it works out because it all works into some workable blogs to work with.

Work it. WORD!

P.S.
Expect some sparse posting from me since I am busy in real life and stuff. (I SWEAR it has NOTHING to do with WARHAMMER Online: The Age of Reckoning... OK, maybe it does.)

Scrap Paper: Save it because WIPGE???

2008-10-08T00:12:00.000-04:00

DQ: random: i should hoarde my scrap paper for when the grid goes doewn... YES!

hoard?

horde?

wtf

MUSE1: For teh Hoarde!!!!!!!!

DQ: YES!

I'm a peopletipping Tauren, what's your game?

p.s.
I seriously think this is a great idea for writers.

TRUCE: Because what if Palin gets elected?

2008-10-04T09:30:00.009-04:00

So, somehow, last night I caught BigHim unawares on the election. I confused both myself and him into thinking that the election was this coming Tuesday! (so what if it's only October, w/e!) So yeah, this was after a looooong day of work. (He's all genius and keeps big engineering type thingies functioning; yep, genius but very tired when he gets home.)

Soooo, enter newly worldy wifey (from a few week's worth now of various newsworthy sources that mostly involve drunken housewives ranting and raving)...

wait, let's pause here. Normally, when BigHim asks me ANYTHING to do with politics or current events, I simply bat my eyes and say "I have no idea" and "whatever you say, dear." This is the ONLY topic of conversation and/or life where I EVER behave this way. ONLY! EVER! See, I figure I picked him for some reason or another that I might sometimes forget these days. But whatever, I will just vote with him since he has studied and followed and thought it out and blablabla. And I know he's not going to vote for Palin, I mean McCain... gooooooooooooo Moosehead! or something.

Except for one night, he started patting McCain on the back for something random and I had had just enough wine to go full-on red-faced, neck-gyrating, hand-waving Irish and then start ranting and raving from my soapbox (in front of company, on his birthday. on. his. BIRTHDAY.) and very loudly accusing the government of getting to BigHim and 'don't believe the hype!' and all sorts of other Irish nonsense I suppose.

So this week, BigHim first witnessed my newfound civil awareness when he asked me if I heard that Paul Newman had passed?

***R.I.P. PAUL NEWMAN, YOU WERE A STELLAR PHILANTHROPIST; YOU DID THE WORLD OF ORGANICS A WORLD OF GOOD; AND YOU WERE ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS HOT AS HELL!!! /salutes! P.S. our dog, thinks your dogfood is the bees knees***

Notice, he asked if I had "heard," because he damned sure knew I had not read it.

Until I replied "Yes, dear. I read about that." (I didn't think I needed to tell him that I read it here on Mamapop.

BigHim *blinks* "whu, huh?" I didn't disclose my source as mamapop but whatever.

Then he asked if I knew what was happening in the stock market?

And I stunned him. STUNNED. BigHim. Because I had read about it here at Carolyn...Online.

Next, he asked me something about Palin or somebody... hmmm, I already forgot.

But anway, I knew about that too! And OK, so maybe these items are celebrity news and not real worldy stuff.

Oh wait, isn't Palin a presidential Candiate? No wait, that can't be right... Isn't she going to star in that new Matt Damon movie, <Ice Hockey Mom>... Oh shit, that wasn't real. That was a Matt Damon interview, oh yes - now I remember. BigHim asked me about the Damon interview and I had seen it here on mamapop.

Ok, enough, so yeah - BigHim thinks I'm reading MSNBC online or watching newsfeeds or something. I'm keeping my blogosphere nugget of joy to myself for now.

Good gawd, TANGENTS! TANGENTS!!!

So yeah, last night I said to the bewildered and weary BigHim, "You know honey, we should really call a truce for the weekend (we fight like the coyote and road runner but love each other madly in the end) because I mean, honey, I mean WHAT IF PALIN GETS ELECTED???"

BigHim: "Sweetheart, McCain is running for President, Palin is his running mate."

DQ: "FFS, whatever. But seriously. Like. What If. OMG!" (somehow, I will probably be an eighty year old woman that still lapses into totally tubular Valley Girl moments.) And yeah, I knew about McCain. I mean, I heard about him while reading How to Party With an Infant. Duh.

BigHim: "My love, you might have a very good point. That's very Buddhist of you."

(he's all transcendental spiritualist "thesecret"-practicing and stuff. It pisses me off. He hates when I say "don't spout off any of that fuckin secret bullshit to ME!" Actually, The Secret is totally amazing and that is why it angers me so. Yeah, I'm missing the point. FFS! Ok, no more tangents, almost done.)

DQ: ***BEAMS***

Soooo, we scarfed down a white spinach pizza, played with our baby bulldozer, comtemplated making another baby since the world might be ending anyway and we wouldn't have to pay the bils... Then we got our Safety1st on and babyproofed our nest some more for the tomorrow that might never come and went to bed, happy, contented, and smiling.

Maybe we should pretend Palin is getting elected every day! It's my new version of Buddhism, "But what is Palin gets elected next Tuesday???" I at least knew the election goes down on a Tuesday. That's right, GOES DOWN! Because well, either elections are gangsta or Monica Lewinsky is workin' the POLES again. HA! FFS! Yeah, I'm that mature. Whatever. It's Saturday morning, when I have a legitimate excuse to regress. At least I think it's legitimate...

Signing off,
DQ, FFS!!!

P.S.
I didn't actually post this until Tuesday afternoon because:

By Saturday afternoon, we had both figured out that the election was a month away and resumed tormenting each other.
By Sunday, we turned it around again.
By Monday night, more torment.
Today, we're back to the TRUCE. So that, my friends, is why I've been reluctant to write. There was the extreme temptation to red-line the above post and write FUCK YOU!!! instead, but
I held onto my virtual pen until I calmed a bit.
Our family outing on Sunday to the local art festival and a big date night for fish-n-chips with the baby were great attitude adjustments.

So yeah, back to TRUCE TIMES!
Because, I mean, WHAT IF PALIN GETS ELECTED??? (WIPGE?)

Soundtrack of my Life

2008-10-02T08:52:00.009-04:00

So, I crashed laggin's House and snagged this Assignment. The Soundtrack of Your Life.

Here goes:

Opening Credits: "Do you Know?" - Jamiroquai (this song once inspired me to drop out of law school, god only knows why I ever went back, FFS!)

Waking up: "Burritos" - Sublime (I'm not a morning person.)

First Day of School: "Fly like and Eagle" - Steve Miller Band (Freedom!!! or so I thought...)

Fight Song: "Bulls on Parade" - Rage Against the Machine (I have anger issues.) ***EDIT*** I actually meant to post this song "Killing in the Name Of" but considering my current situation with my ILLS (inlaws), both will work.

Breaking up: "All Cried Out" - Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam with Full Force (this might be the ONLY ballad, and I mean ONLY ballad that I know the complete lyrics too.)

Prom: "Gone Daddy Gone" - The Violent Femmes

Mental Breakdown: "Institutionalized" – Suicidal Tendencies

Driving: "Jailhouse" - Sublime (Fun to belt out)

Flashback: Cannot. Pick. One. Enjoy, FFS!!! - oh just clickit already, FFS!

Getting Back Together: "What Is and What Should Never Be" - Led Zeppelin (I quit "getting back together" in my adult life. Once kicked to the curb, forever curbside! (and that philosophy swings both ways) /z-snap formation!)

Wedding: "Family Picture" - Donna the Buffalo (I'm pretty sure this was only in my head, since we eloped.)

Birth of a Child: ***EDIT*** "Don't You Worry Bout a Thing" - Stevie Wonder (very traumatic, Emergency C-section)

Final Battle: "I Miss You" - Bjork (OK, so I just think will be my perfect FRAPS soundtrack for my arena adventures, aka my so-called life. Whatever, it stays.)

Death Scene: "One" - Metallica (maudlin. morbid. emo. gah.)

Funeral Song: "Clair De Lune" - Debussy (if only my corpse could be sitting at a player piano, playing this. yeah, I'm twisted.)

Ending Credits: "Sabotage" - Beastie Boys (so I might have morbid fears of my demise, so what!?)

Oh look, theres PEWP on my shorts!!!

2008-10-01T12:17:00.004-04:00

As I first time mother of a rough and tumbly 11 month old boy-puppy, I catch myself saying things that never would have made sense until now:

"Oh look, there's PEWP on my shorts!!! But eww, it's on my shirt too!?"
"Why yes, yes that is spitup in my hair. No, I swear there's none in your coffee!"
"The toasted-ohs, the TOASTED-OHS, omg I forgot the OHs... oh noes."
"But I don't WANNA go to bed. So what if I look undead or like chaos! But, but, but I never got to play my >insert current pixelated addiction here<"
"I don't know that elephants can smell..."

and

"Those rugburns on my knees are from chasing after baby tail..."

"Cavegurling" the CHEESE! (or Rations for Mommy!)

2008-10-01T11:11:00.002-04:00

As I dashed madly about the apartment, attempting to tidy it up just enough to not feel like the complete worst mother of the world, I remembered the cheese. THE CHEESE! Oh dear god, during one of my nightly midnight snackattacks, I had "Cave-Womaned" the cheese. (thanks for the term "CaveWoman" as verb, ciii!) Yes, I had unabashedly gnawed on a block of Colby, chasing it with a slice of whole wheat bread, and perhaps a small goblet of wine... I yanked the noticeably smaller hunk of cheese and sliced off the incriminating bite marks.

That's right folks, I'm the teeth behind the marks that make you go "EWWW!"

This is actually my own carefully thought out strategy to secure the last bits of foods such as cheese, meats, brownies, fruit, veggies, etc. etc. For some reason, my "boys" don't want to eat these gnawed upon teeth-marked goodies.

At last! Rations! RATIONS for mommy!!! w00t! I thank the boys in fact, for it was they who inspired me by drinking from, belching into, and crumbing-up milk, juices, teas, etc. etc.

WTB secret panel vault-like DNA recognition, pupil-scanning-to-enter kitchen all for Mommy, ME, MEEEEE!!! Rations, FFS!

My Secret Life: uhhhh, WTF! FFS!

2008-09-30T07:53:00.008-04:00

By day, I am but a dedicated first-time mommy and befuddled new-and-first-time-wifey. Basically, I have NFC WTF is happening anywhere in my life. Except, except my friends, that in the wee hours of the night and the early early break-a break-a dawn, in the world... hte World... or Warcraft. whatefer. IMA Night Elf DURID biotches! sukmycyclone. ya. iwennt there. u hate me in arena. I DON'T have TIME to atype rihgt idyutz

ugh.

Tha'ts right folds. The world where speliing no longer matters. where punctuation is my automated msg that procalims pwnd ur stoopid ass u fkn nub!!! (I don't really have that macro, even though I think that in my feeble mind...)

Os ya.

if you understood what I just said, huzzah. but in light of me reading what I just wrote, I think that my husband's exquisitely foreign "male language" looks pretty good right about now... No wonder he thinks I'm loony toons.

More to come later. This was supposed to be a different post but I think that Big Him is right; I need help...

LF AVpremade? PST >mynmehere<>

Hybrid Mom Cupcakes: a Recipe for Disaster

2008-09-29T02:19:00.006-04:00

It's late, or early - I'm not exactly sure. We've just finished the third feeding since first my little bulldozer (let's call him DOZER) first drifted off into dreamland six hours ago. I blame this on his newly acquired disdain for avocados, which were #2 on his list of most favoritest foodznstuffz behind Split Pea soup until I finally let him touch the avocado the other day. Ohhhhh yes, he just HAD to touch it, NEEDED to touch it; I felt like Mommy Dearest for keeping his tiny fists from exploring. So, I presented him the avocado in all its fatty, slimy glory. He hated it. The look of disgust upon his face was reminiscent of my own childhood disdain for anything sticky, soiling, icky, or yucky that dared touch my hands. I cleaned him up, put the avocado back on the spoon and presented it in its original "YAY for Avocado! form" but he wasn't buyin' it. And I couldn't sell it. And Congress wouldn't bail me out. And now he doesn't even like any of his green babyfood anymore... but this digresses into another blog...

So ANYWHO,
I'm on my 3rd modest glass of Red Zin this evening, these skull goblets are rather small. I space each glass of wine out carefully beginning with the first when DOZER first falls asleep and then, perhaps (who am I kidding? probably a 2nd after his 1st "midnight snack") and on some nights, like tonight, a 3rd glass... tangent alert! TANGENT ALERT!

HYBRID MOM, that was the post that woke me up from that delightful nursing baby cuddle puddle that makes you believe that all is right with the world (except for everyone except for you being complete and utter idiots). Yes, yes, Hybrid Mom. I even thought of a recipe.

HYBRID MOM CUPCAKES:

Start with one heapin' helpin' of Lioness (this requires "looks that kill," "a condescending tone of voice," "evil hand gestures," and last but certainly not least, "a VBA or Very Bad Attitude!"

Fold in gently with an equal measure of "Attachment Parenting" (NO, I DON'T think it's OK to just let your child "cry it out" [ALL THE TIME cryout is bad - sometimes, yes, it's necessary but cryouts should not be a way of life], I don't believe you can "Spoil a Baby" by loving him or playing with him too much or catering to his NEEDS (that's what you do to your 40 something son but again, a different blog), and no, I don't think it's OK to pawn off the most precious thing in my life to some random 13 year old ho-wannabe who is pimping herself out on myspace with half naked pictures of herself in the shitter [again, another blog]

Add two rounded cups of BOOBIES! (Breastfed Babies are Best! But I also sympathize with all the mothers who genuinely try but cannot, for WHATEVER reason.)

Add one cup of Acceptance (NO JUDGMENTS, WE'RE ALLERGIC!)

Add a 1/2 cup of granola (peace out bitches!)

Add a 1/4 cup of red wine (or whatever, hic!, add to taste >})

Add a dash of old fashioned manners and standards.

Bake it off in your favorite "dish" under constant heat and pressure.

Be sure to open the door no less than 870 times, dooming the Hybrid Mom Cupcakes to certain fluctuations, bubbles and pits.

Ice before fully cooling, making sure to tear off the tops of the cupcakes and smear them into the icing for a gooey mess.

Sprinkle with no sleep, no autonomy, no appreciation.

Leave out for days on end uncovered until stale and moldy.

aaaaaaaaand

VOILA!

you have your very own "Hybrid Mom Cupcakes"

/golfclap /throws a cupcake /pours more wine

(I'm sure I'll edit this, I always do.)

P.S.
Icing is good. Of course, now there is no more icing left for the Hybrid Mom Cupcakes. And I'm going to have a hella sugar buzz crash. But icing, I mean, c'mon, CREAM CHEESE ICING, seriously, c'mon. Why do I feel the need to post these feelings? I'm not sure, but I'm clicking "PUBLISH POST" as I finish off this pint of cream cheese icing...

In-Laws Rant: Aspertame and BPA

2008-09-28T17:40:00.013-04:00

As you sit there, sipping your aspartame laden colas and teas from your polycarbonate palm-tree sporting tumblers and preach to me how:

"All your housewifery woes would be solved if you would only STOP breastfeeding already and switch to FORMULA!" (probably fed from a polycarbonate bottle boiled in bleach).

"And really, you should give up your evening glass (OK, maybe two) of red wine and switch to PILLS" (chock full of synthetic whothefuckknowswhat!)

"Well, I got shoved around, I don't know what YOU'RE so upset about. And in fact, it's probably your fault because you provoke him by not going back to work." (Hey, what the fuck did you do while "raising" your kids that makes you think that rearing a child is not work in itself? Oh wait, that's right - you dumped them off on your in-laws that you were living with or next door to, or let your other kids "look out for" each other while you were off tanning and playing bridge and preaching to the rest of the world about how they were horrible sinners that were going to rot in hell. Oh yeah, no wonder you have NO FUCKING clue what REAL motherhood entails. But you have conveniently forgotten all that now)

"But I was just going to brush my teeth and change into my pajamas." (YOU LEFT A SIX MONTH OLD BABY CRAWLING AROUND IN A COMPLETELY NON-CHILDPROOFED ROOM WITHIN 5 SECONDS OF CERTAIN DEATH IN MULTIPLE DIRECTIONS.)

"You say you don't have the time or energy to walk the dog while strolling the baby to the mailbox halfway across the apartment complex everyday? (Actually, FYI - I traverse the entire complex several times a day, which is why you envy my perky apple butt, BUT, I do not always have the time or energy to actually STOP and OPEN the mailbox because I fear another envelope stuffed full of clippings on why clutter is a road sign to mental illness, or perhaps a list detailing every last dollar you spent on helping our new family in the past year. Yeah, there are LOTS of reasons why I don't want to check the mail and many of them involve your return address.)

"Oh, just leave the baby in his crib while you go get the mail, he'll be OK..." (ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS??? I mean, REALLY - ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS, people??? And I use the term "people" loosely...)

"Well, how was I supposed to know I should be quiet?" (uhhhh, I dunno, mabye because I had dimmed lights, turned TV waaaaay down and was nursing my infant son to sleep - HELLOOOO, anybody home!!??) "But I was just clapping for McCain, this election is very important to ME!" (NUFF SAID OMFG like gag me with your silver spoon or something, FFS!!!)

And before you can finish gulping down your tumbler of toxic judgment, you begin to bitch and whine about your children not talking to you or visiting anymore, your husbands who left you decades ago, your figures and waistlines that left on a one-way train to neveragainland with no forwarding address.

To YOU, you miserable old crones, I raise my chalice and toast you, Generation-Idiot, for making the rest of us shine like illustrious gems.

In other words, SUCK IT, BITCHES!!!
DQFFS!

Stupidity Rant: Integrity of Words

2008-09-26T07:47:00.000-04:00

Integrity of Words:

Don't tell me one thing if you mean something else and then get pissy if I don't translate correctly. I will ask you AGAIN if I am suddenly speaking Turkish and then storm off.

Don't tell me one thing yesterday and another thing today and then revert to your original stance tomorrow. I will track your contradictions and smack you upside the head with them.

Don't tell anyone to do something that you won't do yourself and then boggle when they laugh at you and blow you off (and not in the fun way). I will remind you that Monkey See, Monkey Do, You're a Moron, Shame on you!

Don't tell me you're going to do something just because you think that is what I want to hear and then when the moment of truth arrives, blow me off because you think that A) I won't remember; B) I won't mind; or C) You can talk your way out of it. You are NOT sneaky and I will call you out, you unreliable bumbaclot.

Don't interpret my statements (that is IF you even bother to listen to them) as anything other than WHAT I STATE! I am a straight shooter. (unless I say "Fine." or "Whatever." and then you best fetch me a bottle of wine and head out for some daddy-baby time. Maybe you'll find a new bff on the baby swings, and I DO MEAN IN THE BABY SWING you asshurt crybaby, coz I know you're all boohoo by now)