This year I have been full of sentiments such as "I don't really do Christmas" "Christmas is bullshit" "Here's why Christmas is stupid..." as well as this post. Allow me to clear things up-
Honestly, I am usually baking cookies and other various holiday treats, decorating, enjoying the holiday cheer, etc. I love making people smile and spreading happiness. I still don't like that the "holiday season" starts the day before Halloween and all the stuff I wrote in my other blog post but that's beside the point. Last year, Christmas fucking sucked. Seriously. I got rear ended on my way home from work Christmas Eve by a moron stoner, spent the first half of Christmas in the ER and I'm still dealing with the injuries from this accident. Plus, asshole claims it never happened because I didn't call the police because it was Christmas Eve. That kinda killed my "Christmas spirit".
I was having to stay with my seriously obnoxious boyfriend at the time because my parents hated my dog and I had nowhere else to go. So, getting rear ended and having to stay with a pain in the ass lying useless sack of shit kinda ruined my Christmas. The icing on the cake was my self appointed "perfect" sister called me first thing Christmas morning to complain. This is essentially how the conversation went :
Sister: Merry Xmas!! How are you?
Me: I got in another accident last night (I had been in a different accident less than a week before)
Sister: Oh that sucks!! Are you ok?
Me: Not really, I have whiplash and blah blah blah
Sister: Oh. You will never guess what mom did!!!!
She then proceeds to whine and bitch about how our mom received a card from my sister's (recently) ex husband. For 10 minutes. And how mom was a bitch about it and pissed her off and how it ruined her Christmas. Directly after this rant she says "I have to go. Love you bye." Gee, thanks for the concern. And thanks for fucking up my Christmas in the process. She still has yet to talk to my mother. At all.
So, aside from last Christmas being a complete bust, my entire year has sucked. I've spent the majority of it in the hospital. I did get married to the most wonderful man in the world, but that was about the only good thing. I don't feel like doing Christmas this year because it feels like last Christmas was yesterday. I'm also moving 4 days beforehand. To an entirely different state. Across the Pacific Ocean. I don't feel like hunting down awesome presents for people because I'm busy rearranging my life and I have very few people to get presents for anyway. I'm exhausted and I'm pretty sure with all the crap I've been thru in the last year I have a pretty good excuse for skipping Christmas this year. Maybe once I'm settled in to my new house with my husband we can have our own little Christmas. Or just wait til next year. I know "First Christmas" is supposed to be special, but what's even more special is that he's coming home from Iraq and we get to truly spend time together and have a real honeymoon. I think that's way more important than an over hyped false holiday.
See? I'm not a Grinch, I just have my priorities straight. Besides, who wants to think about white Christmases and snowmen and chestnuts roasting on an open fire in Hawai'i? It'll probably be 85 on Xmas day. Which isn't so very different from San Diego, except its not gonna get cold at night. Santa, have fun delivering toys to all the little Hawai'ian children in your wool suit in 75 degree weather!!!
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Packing... Oooh look shiny!!!
I'm in the process of packing up all of my lifelong possessions and moving to Hawai'i. Kinda. I should be. I lost my mojo. When several rounds of "Runaround Sue" and "La Bamba" don't get my ass in gear I know its time for a break. And I have awful ADD. Honestly, how many people can actually look at their shit and go "ok, that's going in the suitcase, that's getting stored, that's goin in the dumpster and that's getting mailed."? Ok, probably a lot, but I'm not one of them. I seem to think I am going to absolutely *need* my great great grandmother's rolling pin. And her cookbook. And Grandpop's airplane tie pin. Because I'm ridiculous and sentimental. And extraordinarily scatter brained. So I decided it was time for a bloggedy blog. Yay!!!
I own enough makeup to warrant its own suitcase. Ridiculous right? Yeah I thought so too. But its expensive, and its been accumulated over a period of time. So it gets its own suitcase. Oh fucking well. my clothes have taken up another 3. I have one empty suitcase and I'm debating leaving it. But I could put stuff Idon't need in there. Like my coffee mug collection and my limited edition Batmobile model. Or the kitchen sink. See the problem here? I'm on a steady diet of Clonopin and muscle relaxers just to function. Every piece of my body is pissed at me. "Hi!!! Remember me? No? Now ya do!!!!!" Bastards. I probably have about less than half of my apartment packed. Because my body is angry. And my brain doesn't like focusing and coordinating. The sad thing? If I was packing someone else's stuff it would be done yesterday. Soy Capitan. I also have til the 16th to be out of my apartment, but I don't want to push it because I'm leaving on the 21st. So I'm moving out Monday/Tuesday (12th/13th).
It doesn't help that Samuel L Jackson is constantly under my feet and getting into everything. I love him to pieces but he's spent a decent amount of time in his kennel today. Laying on my clothes while I'm trying to fold and pack them, eating bows off Christmas presents that took me 3 hours to wrap (several breaks were taken), trying to eat my fingers because he's a little you-know-what. And a Mogwai. So he got a few time outs. Which was very distracting. And counter-productive. I want a fairy godmother to swoop in with her magic wand and fix everything. *Bippity, Boppity, Boo*. Magic. Done. And she could transform Sam into something less obtrusive and obnoxious in order to save time and distraction. Meanwhile, I'm sipping coffee reading a book with my poor, aching feet up. My back and my neck are no longer protesting, they've gone on motherfucking strike. Every time I move something snapcracklepop zings. And I can't get in to see a dr til January. Guess where I'll be in January? Yeah, not here. Which brings me to:
I love you, San Diego. You are beautiful and magical and will always hold a big place in my heart. I love your architecture, your unique mix of modern, retro and historic. I love your museums, your coast, downtown, your breathtaking hillsides and barren deserts. I love everything about you. Except maybe your over population issue. Its getting a little hard to breathe here. And as much as I love everything that you are, I need to move on. I know you understand. And I'll always come back to visit. Promise. Escondido, as dirty as you are I love you. Your downtown is amazing. I've lived with you my whole life. As much as everyone else hates you, I love you that much more. You are unique and wonderful.
Is this long enough yet? Do I have to get back to packing? I really don't want to. My body is enjoying the rest. So is my brain. I think I'm pretty close to losing it. I'm tired and cranky and overworked. And just about everything hurts. And I'm hungry. Too bad I didn't buy any groceries. Dammit. Time to introduce Samuel L Jackson to Mr Oven...
I own enough makeup to warrant its own suitcase. Ridiculous right? Yeah I thought so too. But its expensive, and its been accumulated over a period of time. So it gets its own suitcase. Oh fucking well. my clothes have taken up another 3. I have one empty suitcase and I'm debating leaving it. But I could put stuff I
It doesn't help that Samuel L Jackson is constantly under my feet and getting into everything. I love him to pieces but he's spent a decent amount of time in his kennel today. Laying on my clothes while I'm trying to fold and pack them, eating bows off Christmas presents that took me 3 hours to wrap (several breaks were taken), trying to eat my fingers because he's a little you-know-what. And a Mogwai. So he got a few time outs. Which was very distracting. And counter-productive. I want a fairy godmother to swoop in with her magic wand and fix everything. *Bippity, Boppity, Boo*. Magic. Done. And she could transform Sam into something less obtrusive and obnoxious in order to save time and distraction. Meanwhile, I'm sipping coffee reading a book with my poor, aching feet up. My back and my neck are no longer protesting, they've gone on motherfucking strike. Every time I move something snapcracklepop zings. And I can't get in to see a dr til January. Guess where I'll be in January? Yeah, not here. Which brings me to:
I love you, San Diego. You are beautiful and magical and will always hold a big place in my heart. I love your architecture, your unique mix of modern, retro and historic. I love your museums, your coast, downtown, your breathtaking hillsides and barren deserts. I love everything about you. Except maybe your over population issue. Its getting a little hard to breathe here. And as much as I love everything that you are, I need to move on. I know you understand. And I'll always come back to visit. Promise. Escondido, as dirty as you are I love you. Your downtown is amazing. I've lived with you my whole life. As much as everyone else hates you, I love you that much more. You are unique and wonderful.
Is this long enough yet? Do I have to get back to packing? I really don't want to. My body is enjoying the rest. So is my brain. I think I'm pretty close to losing it. I'm tired and cranky and overworked. And just about everything hurts. And I'm hungry. Too bad I didn't buy any groceries. Dammit. Time to introduce Samuel L Jackson to Mr Oven...
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Apparently I have A Problem
These are my most commonly used tags, and I only have about 5 posts:
anxiety, banana splits, bettie page, blonde, debbie harry, dogs, er, firemen, gremlins, I'm a retard, mogwai, morphine, penguins, samuel l jackson
Wow. Just, wow.
Why I Think Holidays Are Whack
They say it takes a true tragedy to really appreciate things. Or, if you're me, appreciate things less. Call me a Grinch, Scrooge, whatever. I, personally, think "The Holidays" are a load of happy horseshit. It does not "stimulate the economy", it does not really "bring families together", it doesn't make everyone in the world a freakin miracle worker. Let me explain why: WE SHOULD DO THIS ALL THE GODDAMN TIME!!!! NOT JUST WHEN ITS SOCIALLY CONVENIENT. I, for one, am thankful for every day. I count my blessings all the time. I guess that's the way life is when you have terminal illnesses and practically live in the hospital. But should it be?
Lets start with my first point, "stimulating the economy". Ok, yeah, a lot of people go out and spend way more money than they usually do. BUT, (and there's always a "but" isn't there?) people are mostly buying where they can afford to. For example, Working Mom A saves up all year to buy Timmy some really cool shit for Christmas or Hanuka or Festivus or whatever they celebrate. She has X number of dollars, she isn't going to go to the locally owned toy store to buy the new 3D Nintendo DS. She's going to go to Walmart or Best Buy or wherever has it $100 cheaper. That corporately owned store can afford to lower the price on this because they probably got a discount from the manufacturer. They're also losing X amount of profit on this item so they can be the cheapest and stimulate their sales. But that's the only number that's going up, the amount of sales transactions. Trust me, I worked corporate retail long enough. Yes, their sales numbers go up and so does their profit margin for the day, but they aren't actually making more profit, it just looks that way on paper. Follow? There is still a little added profit, but not as much as they would have you believe. And locally owned toyshop gets stiffed and falls worse because they can't afford to keep up with "Corporate America". If anything, all of these "Super Doorbuster Discounts!!!" do is screw up the economy for the rest of the year. Locally owned toy store makes a little added profit, but not much, because Corporate Yahoo store has the prices people can afford, because they can afford it. "Small Business Saturday" will help to some degree, but since everyone emptied their pocketbooks on "Black Friday" there won't be much left over for the poor struggling businessman. Then Corporate Yahoo's sales are off for the rest of the year because one huge day/week/month of awesome sales makes the rest of the year look pathetic and they'll keep pushing their little worker bees until they break.
Ok, was that a long enough ramble? Here's my next point: Families should not need an excuse to get together!!! Don't give me your bullshit excuses, I don't care. I am soooo thankful and blessed to have such an amazing family that cares for me. They're always a phone call away, less if I'm in the hospital again. And the ones that aren't, I love them anyway. And I'm thankful to have them because they support and love me from wherever they are. I understand that not everyone has a family like mine, nor is my family anywhere near perfect. They drive me nuts with their worrying and babying and being overbearing. But "The Holidays" shouldn't be some big crummy excuse to actually pay attention to your family. Pay attention to them all the time. Thank them for who they are, and if it applies, thank them for helping mold who you are. If your family sucks and this the only time you are required to spend time with them, make the best of it. Or just don't go. Make your own family out of friends and people that make you happy. Family isn't just blood. Don't use "The Holidays" as an excuse to finally call your mother. Call her during the summer, make her day. She loves you.
Point 3: YOU ARE NOT A GODDAMN MIRACLE WORKER!! "Paying it forward" and tossing spare change into Santa's bucket to try to make him stop ringing that fucking bell doesn't make you a better person. Because you probably only do this crap once a year. That makes you a shittier person. Example: "Pete" makes a point to buy coffee for the person behind him, to donate to Hells Bells Santa, to donate to Toys for Tots, because "Tis the Season!". "Mike" buys your coffee when he has the extra money, he saves his change in a jar and every time its full he gives it to the Humane Society, Project Wildlife, Make a Wish, Insert-Charity-Name-Here, when he has spare time he helps out at whichever organization, he made sure to get small gifts for the kids down the hall who's parents don't make much(ok, maybe no one is quite as perfect as Mike, but we should try dammit!!). Mike tries to help out whenever he can, Pete helps out during "The Holidays", but as soon as they're over he's back to being that pretentious prick down in accounting. Point being, don't use "The Holidays" as an excuse to be nice. Be nice all the time. You'll be happier, I promise.
And this is why I hate "The Holidays". Because no one should need an excuse to be nice, to help out local businesses, to help people in need, to be with their families. These are things we should do and appreciate *every day*!!!! Plus, Black Friday totally screws up everyone else's schedule for weeks. Those of us non-nutsos who actually *need* to go to the store for something important get attacked by all of the crazies and run home having panic attacks and can't even open the bottle of xanax cuz their hands are shaking so badly, yeah, us. Leave us alone crazies!!!(Spellcheck just tried to correct "nutsos" with "fatsos". HAH!!)
Lets start with my first point, "stimulating the economy". Ok, yeah, a lot of people go out and spend way more money than they usually do. BUT, (and there's always a "but" isn't there?) people are mostly buying where they can afford to. For example, Working Mom A saves up all year to buy Timmy some really cool shit for Christmas or Hanuka or Festivus or whatever they celebrate. She has X number of dollars, she isn't going to go to the locally owned toy store to buy the new 3D Nintendo DS. She's going to go to Walmart or Best Buy or wherever has it $100 cheaper. That corporately owned store can afford to lower the price on this because they probably got a discount from the manufacturer. They're also losing X amount of profit on this item so they can be the cheapest and stimulate their sales. But that's the only number that's going up, the amount of sales transactions. Trust me, I worked corporate retail long enough. Yes, their sales numbers go up and so does their profit margin for the day, but they aren't actually making more profit, it just looks that way on paper. Follow? There is still a little added profit, but not as much as they would have you believe. And locally owned toyshop gets stiffed and falls worse because they can't afford to keep up with "Corporate America". If anything, all of these "Super Doorbuster Discounts!!!" do is screw up the economy for the rest of the year. Locally owned toy store makes a little added profit, but not much, because Corporate Yahoo store has the prices people can afford, because they can afford it. "Small Business Saturday" will help to some degree, but since everyone emptied their pocketbooks on "Black Friday" there won't be much left over for the poor struggling businessman. Then Corporate Yahoo's sales are off for the rest of the year because one huge day/week/month of awesome sales makes the rest of the year look pathetic and they'll keep pushing their little worker bees until they break.
Ok, was that a long enough ramble? Here's my next point: Families should not need an excuse to get together!!! Don't give me your bullshit excuses, I don't care. I am soooo thankful and blessed to have such an amazing family that cares for me. They're always a phone call away, less if I'm in the hospital again. And the ones that aren't, I love them anyway. And I'm thankful to have them because they support and love me from wherever they are. I understand that not everyone has a family like mine, nor is my family anywhere near perfect. They drive me nuts with their worrying and babying and being overbearing. But "The Holidays" shouldn't be some big crummy excuse to actually pay attention to your family. Pay attention to them all the time. Thank them for who they are, and if it applies, thank them for helping mold who you are. If your family sucks and this the only time you are required to spend time with them, make the best of it. Or just don't go. Make your own family out of friends and people that make you happy. Family isn't just blood. Don't use "The Holidays" as an excuse to finally call your mother. Call her during the summer, make her day. She loves you.
Point 3: YOU ARE NOT A GODDAMN MIRACLE WORKER!! "Paying it forward" and tossing spare change into Santa's bucket to try to make him stop ringing that fucking bell doesn't make you a better person. Because you probably only do this crap once a year. That makes you a shittier person. Example: "Pete" makes a point to buy coffee for the person behind him, to donate to Hells Bells Santa, to donate to Toys for Tots, because "Tis the Season!". "Mike" buys your coffee when he has the extra money, he saves his change in a jar and every time its full he gives it to the Humane Society, Project Wildlife, Make a Wish, Insert-Charity-Name-Here, when he has spare time he helps out at whichever organization, he made sure to get small gifts for the kids down the hall who's parents don't make much(ok, maybe no one is quite as perfect as Mike, but we should try dammit!!). Mike tries to help out whenever he can, Pete helps out during "The Holidays", but as soon as they're over he's back to being that pretentious prick down in accounting. Point being, don't use "The Holidays" as an excuse to be nice. Be nice all the time. You'll be happier, I promise.
And this is why I hate "The Holidays". Because no one should need an excuse to be nice, to help out local businesses, to help people in need, to be with their families. These are things we should do and appreciate *every day*!!!! Plus, Black Friday totally screws up everyone else's schedule for weeks. Those of us non-nutsos who actually *need* to go to the store for something important get attacked by all of the crazies and run home having panic attacks and can't even open the bottle of xanax cuz their hands are shaking so badly, yeah, us. Leave us alone crazies!!!(Spellcheck just tried to correct "nutsos" with "fatsos". HAH!!)
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Why I've Been AWOL (Or "Hi Morphine, I'll have summore)
So, I started this in June intending for it to be my creative comedic outlet of all the random ridiculousness that runs thru my blonde head 24/7. So far, I have failed. Miserably. I have good excuses tho!! Been to the ER twice, had approximately 3 bouts of food poisoning and a migraine since July. Yay!!
First ER trip was due to the incision from my last surgery opening up and causing all of my internal organs(including my blood) to become infected. Yay!!!
Second ER trip was just the other day due to fainting from food poisoning. Apparently when your body tells you to put the fucking milk down and sit, you really should put the fucking milk down and sit. NOT try to put it back in the fridge. Because you will lose consciousness and fall down and hurt your arm and hit your head. In that order. But then hot firemen will come into your apartment and fawn over you and ask you where it hurts and not laugh when they ask you your full name and you say "Seriously?" because they don't understand that you have approximately 6 names and rattling them off like that isn't as easy as they think. Then you explain and they look at you like you're a madwoman. Unless they were in the first place and you just didn't realize til then. Meanwhile they're putting stickers all over your chest and you're like "Hi! I'm married!" and they're like ".... we are too. This is an EKG..." So then they think you seriously hit your head and load you into the back of the meat wagon and on with the show. But I digress....
I've been a little busy. And my vision is going. Damn migraines.... At least they're gonna give me free Botox to try and fix it!! Only 31 injection sites across your face, skull and neck. I'm gonna get my hair cut with Bettie Page bangs again. Eff that. I like my forehead wrinkles. They're a part of me!!! I don't wanna look like Debbie Harry!!
So anyway, I'll try to be a little more active here, not that anyone in particular really follows this, at least that I know of. Hey!! If you're stalking me, be polite and leave a comment. Thank you :)
First ER trip was due to the incision from my last surgery opening up and causing all of my internal organs(including my blood) to become infected. Yay!!!
Second ER trip was just the other day due to fainting from food poisoning. Apparently when your body tells you to put the fucking milk down and sit, you really should put the fucking milk down and sit. NOT try to put it back in the fridge. Because you will lose consciousness and fall down and hurt your arm and hit your head. In that order. But then hot firemen will come into your apartment and fawn over you and ask you where it hurts and not laugh when they ask you your full name and you say "Seriously?" because they don't understand that you have approximately 6 names and rattling them off like that isn't as easy as they think. Then you explain and they look at you like you're a madwoman. Unless they were in the first place and you just didn't realize til then. Meanwhile they're putting stickers all over your chest and you're like "Hi! I'm married!" and they're like ".... we are too. This is an EKG..." So then they think you seriously hit your head and load you into the back of the meat wagon and on with the show. But I digress....
I've been a little busy. And my vision is going. Damn migraines.... At least they're gonna give me free Botox to try and fix it!! Only 31 injection sites across your face, skull and neck. I'm gonna get my hair cut with Bettie Page bangs again. Eff that. I like my forehead wrinkles. They're a part of me!!! I don't wanna look like Debbie Harry!!
So anyway, I'll try to be a little more active here, not that anyone in particular really follows this, at least that I know of. Hey!! If you're stalking me, be polite and leave a comment. Thank you :)
Proof That My Dog is Half Mogwai
- If you feed him after midnight, he will growl for no reason
- If you get him near water, his teeth multiply
- He hates bright light (as depicted to the right)
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Do Not Read This If You Want Funny (probably)
I've been a serious slacker with my bloggerness. There's been a lot going on. Mostly I need to get some things off my chest. Do you have *ANY* idea how effing hard it is being an Army wife? My god! Every day is an uphill battle. Sometimes I miss him so much I can barely breathe. I always swore that I would never ever marry into the military for this very reason. Actually, I swore I'd never get married. Yeah, that worked well...
Yes, I get to talk to him every day. Conversations are usually this: "I miss you soooooo much. I wish you were home" "I can't wait to be home. I miss you" Its great to be missed and all, but I'd rather not be missed. I'd rather have a normal marriage. I want a honeymoon. I want my husband. I really want my husband. Then they extend his deployment...
I am so very proud of him, serving our country, putting up with our government, working in a godforsaken sandbox. But being proud and missing him doesn't bring him here. I have the most amazing husband a girl could ever ask for. He loves me with all his heart, he listens, he cares, he's supportive, he's always sending me sweet little surprises, he's everything I could ever want him to be. Except its almost like being married to a ghost.
So I try to keep busy. I make little crafty things and try to be positive. I *finally* started doing something with my etsy shop, which is here. Anyone with graphic design skillz is welcome to help :) I take care of little Samuel, the demon beagle
;;;;;;;p[']\ <---- Speak of the devil that likes to step on the keyboard then chew my fingers :)
Overall, I've been busy. And my witty sarcasm has been all used up from trying to hide my insanity. :) Hi, my name is LeighAnn Brookshire, I'm an alcoholic, I have a disease and they don't know what to call it.
Thus ends my unfunny rant. But really, I kinda tried. A little. Inside.
Yes, I get to talk to him every day. Conversations are usually this: "I miss you soooooo much. I wish you were home" "I can't wait to be home. I miss you" Its great to be missed and all, but I'd rather not be missed. I'd rather have a normal marriage. I want a honeymoon. I want my husband. I really want my husband. Then they extend his deployment...
I am so very proud of him, serving our country, putting up with our government, working in a godforsaken sandbox. But being proud and missing him doesn't bring him here. I have the most amazing husband a girl could ever ask for. He loves me with all his heart, he listens, he cares, he's supportive, he's always sending me sweet little surprises, he's everything I could ever want him to be. Except its almost like being married to a ghost.
So I try to keep busy. I make little crafty things and try to be positive. I *finally* started doing something with my etsy shop, which is here. Anyone with graphic design skillz is welcome to help :) I take care of little Samuel, the demon beagle
;;;;;;;p[']\ <---- Speak of the devil that likes to step on the keyboard then chew my fingers :)Overall, I've been busy. And my witty sarcasm has been all used up from trying to hide my insanity. :) Hi, my name is LeighAnn Brookshire, I'm an alcoholic, I have a disease and they don't know what to call it.
Thus ends my unfunny rant. But really, I kinda tried. A little. Inside.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Anxiety 101 (Or Why I Should Never be Left Unsupervised)
Anxiety is a debilitating disease. Its irrational and dysfunctional and takes pieces of you away from yourself. Some people deal with it their whole lives. With others, like me, its a symptom of another illness.
Today has been a day of cleaning and maniacal laughter. Basically, anxiety turns me into supertweaker without the use of illegal drugs!! Just the fun ones my doctor gives me. If it wasn't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all ... (this is what happens when I get my supertweaker powers and blog while listening to Motley Crue)
Anyway, I completely dismantled my stove and sanitized it. Cleaned all of my counters, washed all of my dishes, baked a cake, decorated said cake with Winnie the Pooh sprinkles, read way too many classic movie star bios (my husband will be SO excited!!) and taught my beagle how to dance. (Note: Sammy loves to dance however he does not especially appreciate being dipped) Had a date with a friend but he forgot but its ok because now he owes me a super awesome double banana split. Which I definitely plan on collecting in the very near future. As long as he doesn't forget... I'll just get one myself and send him the bill. The he gets double screwed cuz not only did he miss out on my company and a delicious banana split but he also has to pay for it. That's what you get for ditching me, Cameron. :p
Sooooooo back to the main point, (can you go back to a main point after banana splits?) At any rate, banana splits are awesome, anxiety is not. My shrink once said "What's so bad about anxiety? Is anxiety going to kill you? Is the world going to end because you're having a panic attack?" Fuck you head shrinker. And fuck you blogger for telling me "shrinker" is not a word. Cuz it is if I say so. Why does he have to make everything sound so logical? Its like he gets paid to make sense! And now I really want a banana split. Its all your fault Cameron. Do they deliver banana splits? If not they totally should. I would be their best customer.
So all day I've been concentrating my supertweakeranxiety powers on being productive and now its backfiring. I still have far too much energy and since I did such a good job cleaning earlier I have jack shit to do. Except blog about banana splits and anxiety. And its about 80 degrees outside and I have a 23 pound lap warmer because Samuel L Jackson has a cold and like most children he wants to be all sweet and cuddly and kick my laptop off my lap and demand affection. He needs more drugs....Now blogger is trying to tell me "demand" isn't a word either. Wtf blogger? Are you mentally challenged? Or do you need to take your meds too? Except the second time I wrote it it didn't get all highlighty but it did with "time". And yes I know highlighty isn't a word. Kick rocks, spell check. Who needs you anyway? YOU'RE GIVING ME ANXIETY!!!
I think now would be a good time to start up my Marilyn Marathon. How can you have anxiety while watching someone as sweet and brilliant as Marilyn Monroe? Oh, wait, I know!!! Half of her freakin characters have some sort of disorder. Fuck. I'm really not sure how to end this but I need to because I'm having an identity/anxiety/wtf crisis.
Especially since I opened Google yesterday and the first thing that popped up was "You're name is Galloping Gertie! How many furlongs are you?" WTF????? I have furlongs? Wtf is a furlong anyway? Thanks, Google. Identity crisis magnified. Your mission is accomplished.Today has been a day of cleaning and maniacal laughter. Basically, anxiety turns me into supertweaker without the use of illegal drugs!! Just the fun ones my doctor gives me. If it wasn't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all ... (this is what happens when I get my supertweaker powers and blog while listening to Motley Crue)
Anyway, I completely dismantled my stove and sanitized it. Cleaned all of my counters, washed all of my dishes, baked a cake, decorated said cake with Winnie the Pooh sprinkles, read way too many classic movie star bios (my husband will be SO excited!!) and taught my beagle how to dance. (Note: Sammy loves to dance however he does not especially appreciate being dipped) Had a date with a friend but he forgot but its ok because now he owes me a super awesome double banana split. Which I definitely plan on collecting in the very near future. As long as he doesn't forget... I'll just get one myself and send him the bill. The he gets double screwed cuz not only did he miss out on my company and a delicious banana split but he also has to pay for it. That's what you get for ditching me, Cameron. :p
Sooooooo back to the main point, (can you go back to a main point after banana splits?) At any rate, banana splits are awesome, anxiety is not. My shrink once said "What's so bad about anxiety? Is anxiety going to kill you? Is the world going to end because you're having a panic attack?" Fuck you head shrinker. And fuck you blogger for telling me "shrinker" is not a word. Cuz it is if I say so. Why does he have to make everything sound so logical? Its like he gets paid to make sense! And now I really want a banana split. Its all your fault Cameron. Do they deliver banana splits? If not they totally should. I would be their best customer.
So all day I've been concentrating my supertweakeranxiety powers on being productive and now its backfiring. I still have far too much energy and since I did such a good job cleaning earlier I have jack shit to do. Except blog about banana splits and anxiety. And its about 80 degrees outside and I have a 23 pound lap warmer because Samuel L Jackson has a cold and like most children he wants to be all sweet and cuddly and kick my laptop off my lap and demand affection. He needs more drugs....Now blogger is trying to tell me "demand" isn't a word either. Wtf blogger? Are you mentally challenged? Or do you need to take your meds too? Except the second time I wrote it it didn't get all highlighty but it did with "time". And yes I know highlighty isn't a word. Kick rocks, spell check. Who needs you anyway? YOU'RE GIVING ME ANXIETY!!!
I think now would be a good time to start up my Marilyn Marathon. How can you have anxiety while watching someone as sweet and brilliant as Marilyn Monroe? Oh, wait, I know!!! Half of her freakin characters have some sort of disorder. Fuck. I'm really not sure how to end this but I need to because I'm having an identity/anxiety/wtf crisis.
Love, Galloping Gertie
Saturday, June 25, 2011
The Hubby (Or: How I Got Tricked Into Getting Married)
I love my husband. Really, I do. No, really!
This is how he tricked me into marrying him while he was deployed. (I know right? Its a fucking accomplishment!)
Me: So when you get back can I move to Hawaii with you?
The Hubby: Sure.
Me: So...... wanna get hitched?
The Hubby: Hell yes. I'll even pay for an apartment for you in the meantime so you don't have to live in your parents basement anymore!
Me: Awesome!
The Hubby: And you don't have to work ever again!
Me: WTF?!?!
I'm a workaholic. Seriously. Before my shrink told me I should probably take a disability leave before I spontaneously combusted all I ever did was work. Even on my days off cuz those assholes don't know anything even tho I try to teach them they still call me and say "Oh mighty Parts Queen!!! Where can I find the blinker fluid?" (I'm seriously only exaggerating a little bit. They mostly call me "mom" or "Parts Master") Oh yeah, BTW I'm a seriously underpaid parts manager for a multi billion dollar auto parts store. I won't say which one. Because, sadly, I still love them. But, I digress...
Me: Seriously, just.... Stop working? Is that possible? And get married?
My Shrink: Yes. And a very good idea. And tell me exactly why you didn't take him up on this 2 years ago?
Me: Didn't you get the memo? I'm retarded.
Shrink: Oh, right....
So then The Hubby finally comes home on leave. No, wait. Scratch that. Then I tell him he should probably discuss this with his parents. Cuz, you know, they kinda raised him. And he was like "Nah, we'll tell them after" and I'm like "Um, dude. Not cool." But his mom figured it out anyway cuz she's super evil genius and I love her. She's like "So you're coming home on leave but not really coming home, you're going to Vegas? Are you getting married?" Way to go not telling them, tough guy. So then I get to meet her. Without him. Except I kinda met her once before, like 2 years ago. I think. So it was like "Hi! I met you once 2 years ago but I doubt you remember cuz I sure as hell don't! Anyway, we're getting married yay!!" And this is all because she has this fabulous idea to get my dress custom made (not even being sarcastic. This is the AWESOMEST dress EVER!! Seriously, who gets married in zebra print? I do!) So I (re)meet his parents and they're the super nicest people ever and his sister is my bestest friend I continue having discussions with my shrink cuz this is a lot to handle and
Finally The Hubby comes home. For 2 weeks. Then leaves again. Oh, but he gave me the most beautiful engagement ring **EVER**. Then he left. Oh, and we got married somewhere in the middle. Then he left.
So anyway, I'm on disability leave because I try to kill myself working. Apparently its entirely possible. Especially if you're me. I'm "fragile". Whatever. I'm just not afraid to get my hands dirty. And I'm totally going back as soon as the doc says I can. Don't tell my husband.
And I totally made my poor husband sound like a personality-less whore, and I didn't mean to. I was severely paraphrasing. If you read this DO NOT get mad at me. It all in the name of art. I took "artistic license". You love me. Lots.
I need a chupacabra foot. For scientific purposes......
Oh! Almost forgot!
The Hubby: And we can adopt a really cute beagle that is like the poster child for all adorable beagles
Me: Can we name him Eddie Van Halen?
The Hubby: No, but you have my permission to sleep with Eddie Van Halen.
Me: Fine. Can we name him Sammy Hagar?
The Hubby: Yes.
And that is how we became the parents of the sweetest cutest dog EVER. But we adopted him after we got married, so he's not a bastard or anything.
This is how he tricked me into marrying him while he was deployed. (I know right? Its a fucking accomplishment!)
Me: So when you get back can I move to Hawaii with you?
The Hubby: Sure.
Me: So...... wanna get hitched?
The Hubby: Hell yes. I'll even pay for an apartment for you in the meantime so you don't have to live in your parents basement anymore!
Me: Awesome!
The Hubby: And you don't have to work ever again!
Me: WTF?!?!
I'm a workaholic. Seriously. Before my shrink told me I should probably take a disability leave before I spontaneously combusted all I ever did was work. Even on my days off cuz those assholes don't know anything even tho I try to teach them they still call me and say "Oh mighty Parts Queen!!! Where can I find the blinker fluid?" (I'm seriously only exaggerating a little bit. They mostly call me "mom" or "Parts Master") Oh yeah, BTW I'm a seriously underpaid parts manager for a multi billion dollar auto parts store. I won't say which one. Because, sadly, I still love them. But, I digress...
Me: Seriously, just.... Stop working? Is that possible? And get married?
My Shrink: Yes. And a very good idea. And tell me exactly why you didn't take him up on this 2 years ago?
Me: Didn't you get the memo? I'm retarded.
Shrink: Oh, right....
So then The Hubby finally comes home on leave. No, wait. Scratch that. Then I tell him he should probably discuss this with his parents. Cuz, you know, they kinda raised him. And he was like "Nah, we'll tell them after" and I'm like "Um, dude. Not cool." But his mom figured it out anyway cuz she's super evil genius and I love her. She's like "So you're coming home on leave but not really coming home, you're going to Vegas? Are you getting married?" Way to go not telling them, tough guy. So then I get to meet her. Without him. Except I kinda met her once before, like 2 years ago. I think. So it was like "Hi! I met you once 2 years ago but I doubt you remember cuz I sure as hell don't! Anyway, we're getting married yay!!" And this is all because she has this fabulous idea to get my dress custom made (not even being sarcastic. This is the AWESOMEST dress EVER!! Seriously, who gets married in zebra print? I do!) So I (re)meet his parents and they're the super nicest people ever and his sister is my bestest friend I continue having discussions with my shrink cuz this is a lot to handle and
Finally The Hubby comes home. For 2 weeks. Then leaves again. Oh, but he gave me the most beautiful engagement ring **EVER**. Then he left. Oh, and we got married somewhere in the middle. Then he left.
So anyway, I'm on disability leave because I try to kill myself working. Apparently its entirely possible. Especially if you're me. I'm "fragile". Whatever. I'm just not afraid to get my hands dirty. And I'm totally going back as soon as the doc says I can. Don't tell my husband.
And I totally made my poor husband sound like a personality-less whore, and I didn't mean to. I was severely paraphrasing. If you read this DO NOT get mad at me. It all in the name of art. I took "artistic license". You love me. Lots.
I need a chupacabra foot. For scientific purposes......
Oh! Almost forgot!
The Hubby: And we can adopt a really cute beagle that is like the poster child for all adorable beagles
Me: Can we name him Eddie Van Halen?
The Hubby: No, but you have my permission to sleep with Eddie Van Halen.
Me: Fine. Can we name him Sammy Hagar?
The Hubby: Yes.
And that is how we became the parents of the sweetest cutest dog EVER. But we adopted him after we got married, so he's not a bastard or anything.
I Think I'm Funny
So, today I got this bug up my ass to start a blog. I've always wanted to blog but my mom kinda internet stalks me then yells at me because "people read that stuff!!!" Whatever. I'm a grown ass woman. Kinda. Anyway, I decide that I'm gonna do it. And I can just picture the face my husband will make when I tell him...
Anyway, now I have this blog thingie because I had a hilarious conversation with my husband this morning and realized this kind of hilarious shit goes thru my head all day. It would be a disgrace to humanity if I kept it all to myself. The Hubby would probably disagree with me but since he's overseas I can do whatever I want :p. Ok, not really. But he'll probably never take the time to actually sit and read it anyway so it doesn't matter. Right? Plus I'm currently not working and I don't have a lot of better things to do with my time. I'm a big girl. Shut up. I should probably explain what this hilarious conversation was even tho it makes me look like that one beauty pageant chick that needs a map. Apparently so do I.
Me: If you ever succeed in making me move to Alaska can I have a penguin?
The Hubby: Sure. The polar bears might try to eat it tho
Me: Yeah, there's no polar bears in Alaska. (Yeah, that's how much of a genius I am. Even sadder is I've been thru school to learn about animals and am a huge rights activist)
I forget what he actually said at that point but it was something along the lines of "How much black-tar heroin did you have for breakfast?"
Me: They live in the South Pole with the penguins!!!!
The Hubby: Penguins don't live in the South Pole either
Me: WTF??????
Turns out, polar bears and penguins live in the North Pole. Dude! Polar bears and penguins live with SANTA????? Holy shit!!
Also, he apparently doesn't think toucans and penguins look anything alike. They're both birds!! Black and white birds!!! With huge bodies and tiny little heads!!! I would include pictures to help support my statement but I can't figure out how to get them in proper sequence on this fascist website so just use your imagination. At any rate, I'm right. I don't care if one is an arctic bird and the other is a tropical bird. Shut up. Anyway I'm gonna go make pancakes for dinner. Because they're delicious and I can. I swear I'm a big girl.
**UPDATE**
So apparently The Hubby did read the blog and pointed out some errors.
Error #1: Penguins do not live in the North Pole with polar bears and Santa. And he apparently never said they did(whatever) They live in the South Pole and New Zealand.
Error #2: I am the idiot. He is not. I apparently inadvertently made him look idiotic by association. I'm sorry (Ok, not really. He knew what he was getting into when he married me) Which brings us to-
Error #3: He married me. On purpose. Knowing full well what kind of jackass I am. So there.
Anyway, now I have this blog thingie because I had a hilarious conversation with my husband this morning and realized this kind of hilarious shit goes thru my head all day. It would be a disgrace to humanity if I kept it all to myself. The Hubby would probably disagree with me but since he's overseas I can do whatever I want :p. Ok, not really. But he'll probably never take the time to actually sit and read it anyway so it doesn't matter. Right? Plus I'm currently not working and I don't have a lot of better things to do with my time. I'm a big girl. Shut up. I should probably explain what this hilarious conversation was even tho it makes me look like that one beauty pageant chick that needs a map. Apparently so do I.
Me: If you ever succeed in making me move to Alaska can I have a penguin?
The Hubby: Sure. The polar bears might try to eat it tho
Me: Yeah, there's no polar bears in Alaska. (Yeah, that's how much of a genius I am. Even sadder is I've been thru school to learn about animals and am a huge rights activist)
I forget what he actually said at that point but it was something along the lines of "How much black-tar heroin did you have for breakfast?"
Me: They live in the South Pole with the penguins!!!!
The Hubby: Penguins don't live in the South Pole either
Me: WTF??????
Turns out, polar bears and penguins live in the North Pole. Dude! Polar bears and penguins live with SANTA????? Holy shit!!
Also, he apparently doesn't think toucans and penguins look anything alike. They're both birds!! Black and white birds!!! With huge bodies and tiny little heads!!! I would include pictures to help support my statement but I can't figure out how to get them in proper sequence on this fascist website so just use your imagination. At any rate, I'm right. I don't care if one is an arctic bird and the other is a tropical bird. Shut up. Anyway I'm gonna go make pancakes for dinner. Because they're delicious and I can. I swear I'm a big girl.
**UPDATE**
So apparently The Hubby did read the blog and pointed out some errors.
Error #1: Penguins do not live in the North Pole with polar bears and Santa. And he apparently never said they did(whatever) They live in the South Pole and New Zealand.
Error #2: I am the idiot. He is not. I apparently inadvertently made him look idiotic by association. I'm sorry (Ok, not really. He knew what he was getting into when he married me) Which brings us to-
Error #3: He married me. On purpose. Knowing full well what kind of jackass I am. So there.
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