Looks like we made it

27 12 2007

Christmas is over? I can come out of hiding now? FINALLY!

It wasn’t that bad people. I can’t complain. No wait, that’s a lie. I can complain about the IDIOT I married deciding on Christmas Eve to live up to his title of being a complete asshole. So much more than usual too! He decides he wants to take SBJ that night, instead of the next morning. Fucking tard. Instead of “putting my foot down” and telling him no, I agreed, therefore completely bypassing what I’m sure would have been a very dramatic standoff of sorts, possibly including local law enforcement which is just not cool. So when I had to take my grandma home, I also sent SBJ off with his dad. I hated doing it because I wanted to do the whole “Santa came” thing which we had to fake on Christmas Eve. Eh, C’est la vie. He still loved the bike that Santa brought him and the Spy Gear that Rura and I got for him. Amazingly, he got no clothes. Well I bought him some PJ pants but I didn’t wrap them, I just showed them to him. Then again, he does have 4 presents to open from my aunts and one of my aunts is famous for giving out clothes. So I’m not holding my breath.

This Christmas was interesting though. Here’s why (with more bullets) wee!

  • My aunt who is visiting her daughter in Iowa busted the back of her head open and needed 5 staples in her head. She did not want to go to the hospital because she did not want her head shaved. She went and did not end up getting shaved. Just stapled.
  • My grandma did not want to come over for Christmas. The only part of my mom’s family in California for the holiday, and she wanted to stay home. Not on my watch G-ma! I went and picked her up and took her home.
  • My dad’s family breakfast was awesome. One of his brother’s wives went bat shit crazy on the family and accused all of us of hating her daughter. Good times! She was pissed no one complimented my cousin for loosing 50 pounds. Hello, are you just joining our family? We don’t compliment each other. We exploit each others weaknesses with glee and then we all laugh about it. I mean just this year I was asked if my house was my car and if I was going to prison. Good times had by all.
  • Rura fucking scored in the presents department. It took my family almost 5 years to even acknowledge that my ex was alive, and that was after I popped out his kid. This was Rura’s second Christmas spent with my family. Perfect example: My parents got my ex a t-shirt for Christmas. One of those $10 ones from Target with some dumb phrase on it. It wasn’t even a funny one. That was on the last Christmas we spent with my family. Rura got a portable speaker type gadget for his Ipod, a soccer shirt, AND a $25 gift card for Jamba Juice. Facker. He made out. All that brown nosing paid off for sure.
  • Between me and him, we have $75 worth of Jamba Juice.
  • Worst part of Christmas? We did NOT watch Christmas Vacation. WTF I ask you? We watched Close Encounters of the Third Kind INSTEAD. Cool in the 70’s? Hell yea. 2007? Um no, not so much, no. That whole movie is an anti-climatic rip off.

So there you have it. I got some pretty nice clothes and a PJ set, some gift cards, lotion from B&B Works, and my two bestest presents?? A hand me down Dooney and Burke purse from my aunt that I have been drooling over since I first saw it like 3 years ago at her house. Its white with navy blue lettering and tan handles and accents… drool, drool, all day. When she brought it in the house before she left my aunts, she said “remember this?” and I started jumping up and down. None of my cousin’s got it. Hello, boys are stupid remember? The decided that the D & B on the purse must stand for Damn Bitch, or more favorable, Dumb Bitch. Yea, no. Stoopid boys.

Favorite gift? More than my purse? That will MATCH my purse? My daddy promised me a Dodger Jacket, from the stadium, first game we go to next year. Well a jacket or a jersey. *insert happy frickin dance here* Do you know how badly I have been wanting a real Dodgers jacket? I will die and go to heaven the day I get that jacket. I ask to be buried in it. *cough*

Hope everyone else out there had a Merry Christmas.

Oh did you see my new header?? Purdiful isn’t it??! Courtesy of the gorgeous, but M.I.A. Dawn. Dawn, come back to the blogosphere!!!!!! I miss you!!





All mixed up

20 12 2007

Today is just a jumble of things. I’m even warming up to the idea of using bullets. Should I?? Why not.

rain drops

  • It’s been raining here the past few days. So badly the other night that my car did a little hydroplaning on the freeway. Rura was driving and handled it well. Of course he said that he never wanted to drive on the freeway in the rain again, but that can’t really be avoided now can it?
  • Today SBJ has a Christmas program. Whoever’s idea it was to have 1st graders sing “Must be Santa” must hate all the parents. Do you know how long that song is?? Plus his school has like the smallest cafeteria known to man that they cram a ton of parents and kids in. And no parking. So I had to come to work early and I get to leave late. That kid better appreciate me being there.
  • The crazy biatch at work gave cookies to everyone. Individually wrapped. I don’t feel safe eating them. But she had to throw in my favorite cookie just to temp me. Damn her.
  • I need coffee.
  • Last night, a miracle of sorts occurred. I went to Target and spent less than 10 dollars.Don’t believe me. I know you don’t. But it’s true. I bought mousse, note cards, a composition book, and Tostito’s Queso. Oh and two candy bars. Came out under $10 and both me and Rura were shocked. Never happened before, probably wont ever happen again.
  • Head on over to see a crazy bitch that blogs. While you are there, wish Jessie a Happy Birthday! Just don’t mention Christmas and the fact that its only 5 days from now. She is kinda bitter about that. For good reason of course. Happy Birthday!!!
  • The last bullet is reserved for Amy. Amy! I am the cat, you are the chair:

lovedischair

Fo sho.





An open letter to the bitch that almost ruined my Friday night

18 12 2007

Dear Bitchy McBitch Pants,

The next time you go to see a movie, a kids movie, on the night that it opens, please try and bring with you a little compassion. I know that it must be hard for you, being that you were dragging with you your two boys and that fat, prissy ass of yours, but come on. When you know the movie is sold out, and you see someone, say oh, ME for instance, standing in the stairway of the very FULL theater, looking for two seats together, be nice to me when I walk up and ask you if the seat next to you and the seat next to your son are taken. When you answer that they are not, you should then offer to scoot over in either direction. What you should not do is point out to me that the seat next to you has something “icky” on it, and that you don’t want to move.

Really? Icky? Ok… When I then explain to you that I am just trying to find seats so that my parents can sit together, do NOT look at me like I am speaking Japanese and explain again why you wont move into the “icky” seat, but will move in the other direction. This will then force me to become very crabby and ask you in a not so polite way that you must believe that the icky seat is good enough for one of my parents to sit in right?

When I proceed to leave the isle you are sitting in and start looking again for seats, what would prompt you to actually say to the theater employee that you DID offer to move for me, and that you don’t know what my problem is? Is it because you are a total bitch? Or maybe just a total idiot who really IS confused over why I am so upset. I’m gonna go with the total bitch theory.

See once you moved yourself and your kids over, I sat in the “icky” seat just to prove to you that you are a moron and that there was nothing wrong with the fucking seat to begin with. Then, when I saw both my parents coming into the theater with my son, I motioned to them to sit where I was. Did you notice that there were 5 of us going to the movie? And that because of people like you, who have this strange fucking phobia of sitting next to strangers, we could not sit together and enjoy Alvin and the fucking Chipmunks, the tickets of which we purchased 2 fucking hours before the movie??? You didn’t notice those things?

Maybe you were busy telling your brats to put their shoes on to slide over a seat. Where they then removed their shoes AGAIN. Shoes that I had to step over and was very tempted to kick across the theater while I walked past them. Not to mention the smell of your kids socks, socks which I am sure they were wearing all day in school and sweating in and hell knows what else. Good parenting. News flash: YOU ARE IN PUBLIC. You aren’t home. The theater is already crowded and stuffy, please spare the rest of us and tell your kids to put their f-ing shoes on.

I may or may not have mentioned to my dad to “accidentally” spill his soda on you. You are very lucky that he had no idea of our little show down just prior to him entering the theater because had he been there, he would have definitely told you to Go To Hell. It’s kinda his thing. You are also lucky that my mom had no idea about our little spat because when you proceeded to tell her that I was “very rude” and that you were “very unhappy” and she just looked at you like the nutcase you obviously are, she didn’t “accidentally” dump her popcorn over your head. Or wish you away. That’s kinda HER thing.

Be thankful Bitchy McBitchpants. Thankful of my boyfriend for not letting me claw your eyes out. Thankful of my mom for mentioning your little comment only after we had left the theater. And thankful for my son who I occasionally try to spare from mommy’s little “incidents”. Otherwise, I would not have just thought about covering you with soda and popcorn, I would have actually done it. Then I would have sat in the seats that you and your kids left open when you left.

Hoping I see you next time,
Miss





Christmas is not a date, its a state of mind

13 12 2007

I am so not feeling the Christmas spirit. I don’t know whats wrong with me.

Usually around this time, I am totally feeling the holiday vibe, the rush of getting ready for Christmas, the joy that’s supposed to come round this time of year. But I’m not.

I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I don’t have my own place to decorate. When I did, even in the worst circumstances, I still got out all my decorations and put up a tree, wrapped presents, the works. I loved stringing lights and turning them on for the first time. This year? Not so much. I’m so un-motivated to do anything! I really hate it. I salvaged some of my favorite Christmas decorations when I moved out of the ex’s place but the reality is, I don’t have anywhere to display them. This is one of the major downsides to staying with my parents.

Don’t even get me started on presents. First of all, I’m broke. I hate not having money but there are bills to be paid and food to be bought. Those things come first. As does Starbucks. And really, why should I be expected to buy gifts for some people? I am trying to get around some of it by making gifts for the majority of my family but it just doesn’t feel the same. I’m just not into the whole idea of braving the crowds and spending money that I know can be spent elsewhere.

Seeing the blogosphere alive with the holiday spirit just gets me down even more. Yea, a lot of people are complaining about already spending too much on gifts, but that is brought upon yourself. I have seen more and more posts with pictures of people’s decorated homes and trees and they are SO beautiful and me? Well I’m just jealous of that. I dont gots it.

I guess I’m just in a funk. Tonight we have plans with a friend from my old job to go and see the Christmas lights. There is one neighborhood out by where my friend lives that everyone decorates their yards with lights. Its like a 4 block radius and we drive around and ooh and ahh then go to Denny’s. We did it last year and had a lot of fun.

Maybe this is what I need to get my Christmas feelings flowin’. I just hope its enough.





89 Years Young

10 12 2007

Lots of important stuff happened in 1918, at least according to Wikipedia.

  •  The Council of Lithuania adopts the Act of Independence of Lithuania. declaring Lithuania’s independence from the Russian Empire. I didn’t know that Rima!
  • The U.S Congress establishes time zones and approves Daylight savings time.
  • The “Spanish Flu” becomes pandemic (no CLUE what that means) and over 25 million people die in 6 months. Thats not so great. 
  • The Boston Red Sox beat the Chicago Cubs in the World Series. They won’t win again until 2004. 
  • There is a lot going on with World War 1. A lot. 

All that is interesting and all, but on December 9, 1918 my beautiful grandma was born. She went on to NOT catch the Spanish Flu, to come to the U.S. and begin a family. That family includes my mom, her witchy sister, and her big brother. During their life together, that witchy sister would burn their house down playing with matches, they would own a pet monkey, and all of her kids would go on to marry, have kids, some divorce, a ultimately a whole lot of love. She would loose her husband and a short time later, gain a drop dead gorgeous grand-daughter. Her third, but her cutest. 


Like you didn’t know it was going to be me! She has always said that I was a gift from my grandpa. My parents tried for years to have me and never succeeded. Until my grandpa passed away. She said I was a miracle from him. Now she has 3 great grand kids and is 89 years young. 4 generations alive and going strong.

May 2005
 

 December 2007
  Please ignore the spare tire I am carrying around. Anyways, my Grandma is pretty kick ass. She drinks beers with me, makes a MEAN carne con chili, and has no problem saying whats on her mind. I guess at 89, you really don’t have to care what people think.

Happy Birthday Grandma B!
 





Calling all angels

6 12 2007

One of my very best bloggy friends is in a situation that NO ONE should ever be in, especially around the holidays.

Jessie’s sweet husband David broke his clavicle riding his bike back to work after lunch. He works for a recycling company and is in charge of his own recycling center during the day. At night, he delivers pizza. Now with his injury, he can do neither. The doctor called for him to be out of work for at least 6 weeks.

Let me tell you a little about David, if you don’t read Jessie regularly (which you so should be doing BTW). David is just… well…. he’s David. I am talking about a guy that works two jobs so his wife can stay home with their kids. He wants badly to work in law enforcement or with the fire department. He knits. He reads. He takes great pictures of bugs and then writes about them. (There should be a link there but I cant find the URL to his bug site). He makes hilarious videos with Jessie.

These are all normal traits and David is a normal guy. What makes David special in my eyes, is that he has shown to be a better man than most guys out there. He steps up to the plate in every situation life throws at him. He is a good father and has been since a young age. When most guys would have taken off, he stuck with it and has done an excellent job of being a father and a husband. Jessie describes him much better than I could of course:

Me? I’m probably hell bound, but David on the other hand is living, breathing proof that there are good people in the world still. Little old ladies touch his hands for some reason when they talk to him. Animals absolutely love him, including sick ones who hate anyone but their owner, he’s surprised a good number of people by getting the sick mean doggies to lick his hands.

David’s friends are mostly homeless, people he’s met while working at the bins. The man who helped him today was one of his homeless buddies. He’s never been able to help them financially, but he did set it up at his pizza place with the owners so that if they came and cleaned out the dumpster area they would be paid in pizza, just so they could have a hot meal.

They are in a situation that could not have happened to nicer people. If you have ever lived pay check to pay check, you KNOW what kind of situation they are in. It sucks.

So I’m asking anyone reading, to stop by Jessie’s and read her post about David’s accident. She gives a link to her paypal and if you have a little extra to give this holiday season, please do. If you can’t then that’s cool. Just do me a favor and go over to her site anyways and click on her ads that are in her sidebar. Click them all right now, then go back the next day and click them again. Trust me, visiting her site will bring at least a smile to your face or some kind of understanding of the type of people Jessie and David are.

Karma is in full force here people. I promise you that much.

Last night when I read about David’s accident, I signed up for Google Ads. I got approved and stuck the code on my site today but at work, I cant see them. If anyone can, let me know. If I manage to make any money off of them in the next month or so, I’ll be donating that to Jessie and David.

Another thing you can do to help is to buy Jessie’s book, Eat Your Colors. It’s available through LuLu Books and it’s a really great book. (Jessie, this isn’t my review) It has all kinds of tips on how to feed your family better and healthier. The recipes are good and the drawings are cute. If you know of anyone with picky eaters, or you’ve got one yourself, this is a great book for them.

This post is really just me trying to help a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. No one deserves the stress and strain of supporting a family of 4 with no income (other than the disability checks which equal NIGHTMARE) especially around the holidays. If you have it in you, in the spirit of good intentions and good will and over all goodness that I know some of you have inside you, please do whatever you think you can to help them. If you need blogging material, please link to Jessie. Every little bit helps.

Like I said, karma is in full force here. It will come back to you in some way, shape, or form.

Thank you for reading and for all that you can do.





This is WAR bitch!

5 12 2007

So I’m dealing with someone at the place I go to for 8 hours a day (cough) who is being MAJORLY passive aggressive. I mean, seriously. And all over something completely STUPID: a box of folders. Empty folders.

Before I got to the place I go to for 8 hours a day, I guess my desk was used for people to just put random stuff. Like boxes of folders. For the first few months, I had at least 3 boxes of empty folders on my desk that she would have to access maybe once a week. MAYBE. I’ve been doing some cleaning and have gotten rid of a lot of stuff that didn’t really need to be on my desk. Including those fucking folders.

I hated when she would come and hover over me while she got the number of folders she needed. I am one of those people who hates when other people look over their shoulders when I am at the computer. It gets on my nerves. She did it whenever she had to come into my cube and get those damn folders.

So last week I moved them. To the supply closet. Which is located about 10 steps away from our desks. It opened up some space that I needed to use for MY stuff. I mean, that’s reasonable right? My desk, my space? Yea, I thought so too.

The very next day, my stuff is shoved aside and what is in their place? Those fucking folders. She. Put. Them. Back.

*cue internal screaming* This person ALREADY rides my nerves throughout the day and this? Icing on the cake.

So I put them RIGHT BACK in that damn closet. And I filled that space up with a basket full of work packets that I need to review. The basket looks much nicer up in my cabinet instead of crowding my desk. Much nicer. Cleaner. MORE PROFESSIONAL.

So she wants to play the passive aggressive bitch game? I invented that fucking game. She has no idea who she is fucking with.

A day goes by and guess what? The folders are back. But this time they are on my filing cabinet. Of course that’s the first thing I see when I get to work because she is too scared to do that while I am actually sitting at my desk. Since she gets in an hour before me, she can make all her little moves then.

Ahhh shit, its on now.

This time, I let the damn folders sit there for a day. Make her think she won. Yea, I don’t loose. I just don’t. Especially not over a fucking box of folders.

So back they go to the closet. With a little note stuck on them:

Supplies, such as folders ets., belong in the supply closet. Thank you!!

I even made a happy face out of the two exclamation points. Yes I did! I told you I invented this game. And in their place on my filing cabinet? A big ass plant.

I just walked over to the closet to take a picture of the note because it was really sweet, and it was there. Before I could snap the picture with my phone, she walked over to the area so I closed the closet and left. I don’t want to look like a psycho taking pictures over our little war. She might think I’m as crazy as she is. Once she sat down though, I walked right back over there and guess whats missing?? My fucking note!! Biyatch took it.

Your move ya crazy bitch.

Clearly I am in the right here. What sane individual is going to argue that MY desk is not HER supply area? I am so good, that if she does make an issue out of it, I can spin the situation so that not only do I look like I am right, but she will look completely INSANE for making a big deal out of it. That’s how I roll. Fo Sho.

Don’t worry, I will keep you updated.

UPDATE!!! Right as I hit publish, this crazy chick comes walking up and ASKS our boss if she can keep the folders on her desk, so that she “doesn’t have to be walking back and forth to the closet all day, as much as she makes new folders”. Of course my boss says yes. Does this mean I won? What a wimp, she barely even gave me a challenge!

BTW, I totally enjoyed my little blogging break. But I’m back. Not every day of course. Are you insane? I know I can be!