Who would you rather your 13-year old daughter listen to: (Old School) Britney or (Any School) Pink?
You betcha there's a right answer.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Things that are distressing me...
...in no particular order:
1) The fact that one of the insurance policies, which the company assured me would pay, is not going to pay.
2) The fact that #1 bothers me as much as it does. It's just effing money, for Pete's sake.
3) The idea the McCain could actually become president. Dear God. I honestly don't think I could take that.
4) My son's mental health.
5) My fat ass.
6) My hair. Seriously. I know. Shallow.
7) My inability to chill the fuck out.
1) The fact that one of the insurance policies, which the company assured me would pay, is not going to pay.
2) The fact that #1 bothers me as much as it does. It's just effing money, for Pete's sake.
3) The idea the McCain could actually become president. Dear God. I honestly don't think I could take that.
4) My son's mental health.
5) My fat ass.
6) My hair. Seriously. I know. Shallow.
7) My inability to chill the fuck out.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Chupacabra
You know what makes me happy? The Chupacabra.
Seriously.
I am going to try and work the Chupacabra into everything I write from now on. Because there is just nothing better than a goat-sucking monster.
Seriously.
I am going to try and work the Chupacabra into everything I write from now on. Because there is just nothing better than a goat-sucking monster.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Funny
Today, the Girl stood in the middle of the kitchen and screamed at the top of her lungs, full of righteous indignation:
"QUIT YELLING AT MEEEEEEEE!!!!!"
Which was sort of funny seeing as how, you know, I wasn't yelling at the time.
A tip: Don't laugh at indignant 5-year-olds. Oh, the tears! The recrimination! It wasn't funny! Laughing at her IS. NOT. FUNNY!
Ah, but honey. It's the laughing at the not-funny stuff that gets you through life.
I would have tried to tell her that, but she was sort of busy threatening to poke me in the butt with her miniature American flag. I think there's some sort of message there, mayhaps?
Things are going. We're sifting through the business of death. The Boy punched a kid at school last week. The kids are taking ice skating lessons. I swear to God that I heard their father come in the house last week, in the middle of the day, while I was typing away on some job. I actually heard the door open, and I heard him call out "Hellooo?" in this funny way he used to do. I nearly answered, then I stopped, then I really stopped. Then I answered anyway. Nobody answered back.
I want to thank everyone who has sent us kindness--kind thoughts, kind words, kind deeds. It's odd to me that I started this stupid blog as a sort of self-motivating journal to get through some of the harshest emotions after my marriage fell apart. And now it's like I don't know what to say. Probably because I'm not sure what to think. Or, I am very purposefully not thinking. Except for when I've planted my arse on Dr. Zen's comfy chair. I think a bit then. Then I go sneak a cigarette and quit thinking for another week.
I guess that's okay, too.
"QUIT YELLING AT MEEEEEEEE!!!!!"
Which was sort of funny seeing as how, you know, I wasn't yelling at the time.
A tip: Don't laugh at indignant 5-year-olds. Oh, the tears! The recrimination! It wasn't funny! Laughing at her IS. NOT. FUNNY!
Ah, but honey. It's the laughing at the not-funny stuff that gets you through life.
I would have tried to tell her that, but she was sort of busy threatening to poke me in the butt with her miniature American flag. I think there's some sort of message there, mayhaps?
Things are going. We're sifting through the business of death. The Boy punched a kid at school last week. The kids are taking ice skating lessons. I swear to God that I heard their father come in the house last week, in the middle of the day, while I was typing away on some job. I actually heard the door open, and I heard him call out "Hellooo?" in this funny way he used to do. I nearly answered, then I stopped, then I really stopped. Then I answered anyway. Nobody answered back.
I want to thank everyone who has sent us kindness--kind thoughts, kind words, kind deeds. It's odd to me that I started this stupid blog as a sort of self-motivating journal to get through some of the harshest emotions after my marriage fell apart. And now it's like I don't know what to say. Probably because I'm not sure what to think. Or, I am very purposefully not thinking. Except for when I've planted my arse on Dr. Zen's comfy chair. I think a bit then. Then I go sneak a cigarette and quit thinking for another week.
I guess that's okay, too.
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