Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Oliveered

The verge of summer is upon us. I think it just showed up overnight. I'm not complaining by any means. It was a welcoming surprise. Occasionally we will have a mixture of rains between the rays of sunshine, but that makes the plants grow.




Oliver continues his wrath on our underwear. We are almost down to commando. I have learned to pick my things up and put them in the laundry straight away. Bug on the other hand, is a typical messy teenager.

ME: Hey! Oliver ate out the crotch of your legging pants. They are goners. Nasty!

(very huge teenage fit and tantrum like sounds)

It did not take long for her to stomp over to me in the bathroom.

BUG: I hate that dog! He makes me so mad! And you should never say he ate out my crotch, Mom! Do you even know what that means?

ME: Uh. I'm not sure where you are going with this...

BUG: Do you know what it means when a guy eats you out?

ME: Danger! Danger! Abort your mission! LA LA LA LA LA LA! NOOOOooo! Danger!

BUG: You need to stop saying that. That is gross.

ME: It was just a fact of the circumstances of the pants. You are not even supposed to know what that other things is you were talking about.

BUG: You don't know what it means when a guy eats a girl out?

ME: STOP! Yes, I do.


BUG: Have you ever had that done to you? Do you like it when they do that to you?

ME: Shush! I can't take this anymore. Put your pants in the garbage.

BUG: You are so gross!

ME: ME? Oliver is the one who ate your stinky crotch out of your leggings. That should tell you something. Pure nastiness.

BUG: I AM TALKING ABOUT YOU! YOU ARE GROSS TO LET GUYS DO THAT TO YOU!

I have now had 15 therapy sessions and not one of them is burning this conversation or images out of my head. It's on to whiskey and a bubble bath. Calgon!

Maybe we should have gotten cats.



Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Putting On The Fits

A woman is only helpless when her nail polish is drying. Or she can't fix things by herself and has no funds to pay a work husband to do it. I sometimes do without. Or use duct tape. It's the ghetto way.

It's hard to be a woman. We have to be strong. People expect us to act like a lady. Then we are supposed to be fun. Oh, and look like a Barbie! Plus, work like a horse. And then there are those who like us in dresses. Yeck.

Actually, I like dresses when I am skinny. Fat dresses are tents. Don't let anyone fool you. You can't put lipstick on a pig. The best you can hope for is to pitch yourself at a nice location.

I am really happy in yoga pants or jeans. Or anything camo or rugged. Also, I used to like to fix things, but now I am pretty much over it.

So...an outing must be had by all because staying at home looking at patched walls and things to do will drive a girl batty crazier plum nuts. I've never tried those by that way. 

This is something I learned about areas of higher population. Trails are busy. And they are not high up in the air nor on rugged ground. You could fit 5 people across on the flat, nice trails. Once you get into ravines and cave areas, you just walk through the water and again, on nice groomed trails. And added bonus, is they put boardwalks, stairs, and bridges for us ladies. It's like throwing the coat down over the puddle trick.


You guessed it. I was the only one in all The Land carrying a small day pack with water and snacks and a camera. So weird. If we were to be trapped in a canyon with zombies, I would not share.

Not only that, you do not dress up in your North Face or Mountain Hardware outfits with hiking boots. *shudder* Don't even try to impress anyone with zip off pants converted to shorts. They look at you like you just got that off a local stripper train. Everyone around here wears active wear like yoga pants or spandex and tennis shoes. And matching. Boy, aren't they cute? I was floored.

And me, sporting my braids and Wyoming gear looked way out of place. Did I rush to fit in? Nope. I continued on my merry way and they could just assume a tourist stomped through town. Oh well.

I don't fit in anywhere. I'm kind of awkward like that.


Friday, April 8, 2016

The Vagina Diaries Entry #8579

Four score and 7 years ago was my last post. I am so ashamed. To add to that bad news, this post has no plot. It's more of a circle jerk. Fair warning!

My humor is a little off the mark in case you haven't noticed.


I realize some will not get this one.
I'm not really that violent. But I might bore you to death.

Really my life contains no excitement as of late. Drama remains to be sporadic in the Bug's life and we do have those episodes. Sometimes I just hide the hair brush and wait for the screams. It is so much fun!

Occasionally, I will get a funny dog incident, poop or vagina mystery, or a school mean girl teenager crisis, but mostly it is milquetoast. The dog incidents lately have been of Oliver being chased around the house with underwear in tow. He really has gotten us both down to commando. And let me tell you, nice underwear is not cheap. Even crappy underwear is expensive. Maybe I should go to the Salvation Army and throw out some decoy pair. Ew. I mean, who would recycle their underwear? Who does that? And who buys it? And certainly I don't want to kiss someone else's vagina. I mean, for that matter I really don't want to kiss mine either. Damn you, Oliver!



But he's so cute.
Maybe I just need to wrap him up and confine his paws so he can't run around and cause trouble...
This?
You know when puppies poop on the floor, I was taught to rub their nose in it and put them outside. Well, I don't think rubbing his nose in dirty underwear is the ticket. First, I don't do the nose in the poop thingy because I kiss that nose. I know it is up his own butt and around his balls a lot, but still. 

Never mind. Dog issues. Sigh. 

Hark! Intermission! I must back up the bus and get busy with some positive thoughts expressed to you in a meme...I found this to be quite near perfect...


Carry on!

My road to fitness hit a snag yesterday. I went up instead of down on the scale and I am so miffed. Plus, I had cramps in the middle of the night and I knew I was dehydrated. I DO NOT want to go through those fiascoes again.



So this morning, I am pumping up with two cups of coffee and a lot of lemon water. I am hoping the lemons and coffee (not in the same glass) will result in free flowing poo today. Well, not diarrhea, but good poop. Is poop good? Oh yeah. You don't realize it until you hit your 40's. That is the time when those incidents are necessary and good to be regular. So I suggest to everyone to do it right while you are young so it doesn't get stuck up in the pipes.

I never thought I would be talking about poop in the Internet to literally millions and billions of people. Hopefully, only two are listening. Additionally, it would be nice if those two folks don't tell their friends about it. Chalk that up to lessons learned. Furthermore, to even think I would be talking about female vagina incidents. *shudder* If my mom ever finds this blog I am in so much trouble.

Perhaps my life will get more interesting as time goes on. Hopefully not in the biological sense, but socially and fairy dust will come down from the heavens. Wine. Wine is good.

You talking to me?


The only thing different which happened to share is a pretty boring vehicle story. I know I need to get my Master's and get a job where I can afford a newer vehicle. Until then, I will nickel and dime myself to work. It's all good. I have also really valued the notion of things that are paid for and not borrowed against. Whew. Took me 3 decades.

To anticipate that I am going to have to save big dollars for new tires, I called around...

"Hi. Could you give me an estimate on some tires? I am just shopping around to see how much I'm going to have to fork out. I will probably be ready for some new ones before fall. Also do you have any sales coming up?"

"Sure, ma'am. I can go over all that. Can you give me the size? We can look at different options."

"First, before I get that up close and personal, I must preface this with I want fair prices on some tires that aren't going to kick me in the vagina. Just because I'm a girl, doesn't mean I should get higher prices."

*crickets*

"I mean that because we girls don't jack them up on the corner based upon a dude's car. Fair price is the same right?"

I got hung up on.

Maybe I should try a different approach. I was kind of feeling snarky.