Monday, April 3, 2017

The Vagina Diaries #99977768

Someone in our local educational system thought up of a brilliant way to educate teenagers in health class by means of having a baby placed in our home. It came to us Friday night unexpectedly. Originally, it was scheduled to arrive on Easter weekend and I said, NO WAY. I didn't want my Bug to skip Easter because I knew she would be a freak about this thing.

She told me in very detailed verbage explosion with a motherly attitude that she was not to be bothered because she was taking care of this baby and did not want to fail class. She asked if "grandma" would be willing to babysit over the weekend. This "grandma" was conveniently inconvenient and cancelled all grandmother appearances much to Bug's surprise. She could not possibly imagine that I was not a willing participant. I told her she should have to suffer as a single mother just as I had and to suck it up. Yes, it is true. I have no sympathy. So begins the lesson. Or so I thought.

The first night was hell as she did not receive much sleep with the baby waking up every 30 minutes. Thank you, teacher! This was good. I didn't hear a thing and slept like a baby in my room. The next day I departed. I left for an overnight trip in late afternoon on Saturday to return on Sunday. I figured that way there would be no temptation or begging of grandmotherly duties.

I did check in via Facetime. She was very tired and had failed in most house duties, while shutting herself in her room to care for her near-real infant. Apparently, she was very proud of her bags under her eyes. As you can see from our Facetime chat, I had so much sympathy and nearly cried over the loss of sleep.

Dear Sleep, 
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art NOT with me;

I figured all this was real life problems. No sense sugar coating it.

I know. I won't be getting any Mother of the Year awards. It's OK. I hope I have created a good kid as a result of my unorthodox motherhood ways.

I expect some day paybacks will be hell with a real live grandkid, but I hope that is many years from now. In the meantime, torture is in play and seemed to result in some oopsies around the house.

For instance, I came home to a pile of dishes and a burnt pan. The dog got locked in the laundry room and ate the door. Muddy paw prints were tracked all over the house and on the furniture. It was a disaster. What happened? Grr. I got mad but I moved on because she was asleep and I could not address it just then. That was in her favor.

A load of laundry was left in the washer to gather mold or dust. I'm not sure which because it was never turned on. Oh, that's right. We hid all the detergent because she has a tendency to wash two shirts in a load which is wasteful.

She also takes 45 minute showers. We turned the hot water off when she was in the shower in the process. My water bill last month was $124.00. Me thinks she doesn't get it. So I had to fight hot water with cold.

But my plans may have backfired as I now have to do the dishes and laundry myself because I can't stand it. Wait. I shall tell the new fake mother that the chores are ready for her at home and she can do them first thing when she gets out of track practice.

Tonight I will be sanding the door down in an effort to save it rather than by a new one.

Was I mad?

Oh yeah. I was mad as hell.

But instead of coming publicly unglued, I retreated to the barn and my bedroom so I would not make an ass of myself as a mother in a rage of anger.

Today, I have deflated my initial reaction to a lesson learned to myself.

Will I do this all over again? You betcha.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

The Vagina Diaries #857475: Boob Lube

Some things in life are free.

Many things are not.

Sometimes you pay a hefty price.

For stupidity.

And other things.

Right now, I am obsessed with the show Vikings. I am striving to be Lagertha. She is so cool, even peasants want to be her. I think she was much more wise than me. But she does have trouble picking good men in her life. That part was like me. I've finally gotten wise. The other stuff...I can be a warrior or a legend in my own mind. I can dress like her. But...I'm sure she would not have gone through life making the mistakes I have.

Why not? Aspire to be Lagertha. Arr. SKOL!

Yesterday started out with a bang and ended with a kaboom.

I was reconciling my checking account when I found a huge ACH withdrawal that I did not authorize.

I called the number up and spoke to a very nice customer service representative who spoke perfect English. I was really impressed. We could communicate and she could understand my problems.

To preface, I had ordered some facial products for my daughter because of her acne, so they delivered.

So, I did recognize the company's name on my online statement, but did not authorize a new charge.
Yes, I think I will. Thank you!

The lady listened to my concern and asked, "Ma'am, this is the first charge of two because you checked the box to try a 30 day money back guarantee of our uplift cream. Did you not like the products?"

"I'm not saying I didn't like your products. I did not authorize a charge."

"Uh. Huh. Ma'am, did you return the cream back to us within 30 days so you would not be charged full price?"

"Uh. I didn't know I had to. I thought it was a free sample for the shipping cost only."

"I'm sorry. No, ma'am. You were given the product for 30 days free. If we didn't hear from you and receive the product back, we charge you two payments. This is the first payment."

"Holy balls. $140?"

"Yes. Ma'am. That is what the product retails for and you were given instructions in the box."

"Wow. Well, I can't afford that. And I don't want any more charges. Can I get my money back? I have to feed three small children and we have no groceries."

"Ok. We can see what we can do for you. Did the products work? I understand you must be having some trouble with lift in your breast area?"

Ok. Hold the horses. This lady was getting personal and inappropriate. WTF?


"Oh. Well, I guess I misunderstood. It shows here you ordered the Uplift Cream. It is for increasing lift in your breast area."

Holy. Fucking. Balls.

What. The Fuck. Have. I. Done.

I was feeling flushed and stupid.

"Uh. Hmm. Ok. Well, how do I stop these charges. Do you need the product back?"

"No. It is too late for the return, but I can stop the second payment and write customer dissatisfaction on here and we will not charge you for the second payment. You will receive your seasonal facial care shipment in April."

"Whoa. I don't want any more shipments to come automatically. I only ordered my daughter a facial kit and she doesn't need any more right now."

"Ok. I will stop all shipments. You should be taken care of. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Well. Could the Uplift Cream be used on any other areas other than the breasts?"
boob lube

"Well, ma'am. I am not recommending it for anything else except what it was formulated to do and sell as. As instructed, it is designed for the breast area. It is formulated to lift, tighten, and plump. "
If I pull my face back, can you tell I have boob lube on my neck?

"Ok. Thank you. I think I am OK. Have a nice day."

Fuck. Me. In. The. Ass.

Does this cream make my face look big?

So when this extra cream stuff came in the mail and when I read about it online, I understood it was special cream for my  neck. I have been putting the fucking cream on my neck for a month. A whole month!

No wonder I have jowls.

Here I thought I was getting fatter and fatter. It is actually the cream. This cream really just lifted my neck skin up to my face according to my theory. I can't believe I am such an idiot. How did I get confused? Am I losing it? Wait. Don't answer that question.

What will I look like in 60 days?

Will I have two perky boobs on my face?

Right now I am fighting bad skin and wrinkles.

They are winning.

It doesn't help that I just gave myself a new set of boobs...on my face.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

5 Things That Pissed Me Off Yesterday

Look... the color is drained out of my face.
In review, I have started each post with the same static theme, so I am going to continue that way. Why change? Who needs variation? We all like routine and scoff at progress, right?

Today starts with a pit of pissy and a lot of snark. I'm not angry...just passionate. I really exaggerate sometimes at my level of pissed off-ness.

So you thought I was dead? I might be because I am really exhausted and am just working out of a shell. There is no substance or internal pizzazz. 

Let me sum up my fears of existence:

A. I think I just exist, not live, on a plane or two. (not airplane-the other mathematical kind) Hey, I'm down here! Am I living? Not right now. I am existing. Sometimes I float between the two. Grad school. That's all I have to say about that. 

B. No sleep. Lack of sleep messes with a person's mind channeling. Can you say psycho?

C. My child is buzzing in teenage mode where she helps sporadically and then loves to sit on the couch and do nothing. Like literally. Sometimes, a momster grad student Nicole Curtis wannabe just needs a little assistant. Free type.

And yesterday, the bear in me came out. I think it probably surfaces every day, but I try to contain it. My day with my Bug at the eye doctor and skin doctor was a challenge.

Why am I pissed off and so what poked the bear?

First, I must preface this with the fact that I am surrounded by wonderful people, even the annoying ones.

1.  Strangely,  the school gave me the wrong kid when I went to get Bug out of classes for her eye doctor appointment. I had no idea who this girl was approaching me in the school office. I shit you not. It took another 15 minutes to get the right one. Then sass happened. The Bug sassed me and back-talked and jabbered the entire time we were driving out of the school yard to the eye doctor. She had to ding me for being late...which I was not...the school fucked up on kid pulling...then just kept going like I had put a quarter in her. I wanted the noise to stop. It was like asylum-ish. 

2. Financial demise. Medical bankruptcy (figuratively...but I am slowly marching that direction) I put myself here many years ago through moving and divorce and then lots going wrong. But I am digging out of the hole. It's muddy in there. Sometimes I slide down. Slowly making progress. But I'm still pissed about it. My entire day yesterday getting skin cancer check ups and glasses cost me $1600.00. Insurance covered $644.00. Rest went to my deductible. Whoopt-dee-doo.  I had for the first time enrolled in a health savings plan which gives me $100 a month less in net income but goes into the savings account...which is devastating at my income level...BUT...saved me for this purpose because I could use $700 of it to cover most of the remainder. Now that account is near dry. It's there for that reason, but I had wanted to save it for a possible surprise. Well, I guess it fits. Surprise! Big fucking bills. 

3. The world disorder is pissing me the fuck off. I can't really point my finger at one thing. It just gives me a headache. The news. Twitter. Social media. The world chaos.  I feel that even some of my good friends are shorting out and all have lost coping skills. About everything. It could be a paper cut. I have come to realize that prepping to save myself from others prepping because they feel the world is going to end and the oncoming possible civil war is a good idea. And I need a brick fortress. I know just where to find one. And a moat. That might be a little more difficult. 

4. Messy house. Unorganized life. Lack of time. Piles of Homework. I am getting bent about time constraints. Do these professors realize I have a life? Life cannot exist on this planet with all these other requirements. I can't prepare meals unless they are sandwiches slapped together or done in crock pots. That is...if I get up early enough to throw the stuff in there. Sometimes on Sunday I will cook a big meal so I have lunches. Bug has to fend for herself a lot. Man, I sound like the world's biggest whiner. God help me. Please. Like soon. 

5. Force. May the force not be with you. Opinions and nosy Nellies. Opinions are like assholes. Every one has one. Sometimes I don't want yours. Or maybe I disagree or maybe I do things differently. Sometimes I will listen. I definitely get tired of noses in my business when they are judgmental and negative all the time. Don't prophetize to me either. Don't want that. Let fate be.  The crystal ball is pretty, but I don't let it rule my life. Thank you. Nor do I rule by stars and things, but I find those ways interesting and fun for entertainment. But I don't dump my appliances or my family because Mercury is in retrograde. Only that shit is for real. Retrograde is the devil. Are you perfect? Am I that interesting? I will tell you anything you want to know. Just approach me the right way. When you come off punchy and pushy like forcing me to eat porridge, then I will get a little miffed. I may not want your porridge.  I don't care if you have lived through a thousand like scenarios and think you are wiser than all of the others after you. Give gentle advice or tell me about your experience, but not like its the Holy Grail. Each person experiences. Let it happen. You can't always stop a truck from delivering the goods because you like yellow eggs and they are only delivering brown. I know. That made no sense. Sometimes words just happen. And the mind channeling doesn't always make it to the fingers. Apologies. I am getting tired of people who PUSH their opinions on me. Shut the fuck up. Be nice. Be supportive. Be inquisitive. Just don't be all about you and all about your way. There is more than one way to skin a cat. Duh. And can't I just be happy? Is that OK with you? That I don't have misery or speed bumps every two seconds? I know. It's been nice that the road has been straight, fast, and lacking pot holes lately. God bless me. And you. And the world.


I sounded like a royal bitch.

I am off to straighten my crown. Farewell, ordinary people! 

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Farmer Mentality

Lately, the spring cleaning fever has overcome me and Bug. We have been organizing closets and taking up arms against clutter. I look around. I have realized I have Farmer Mentality Syndrome.


You know the disease....1) Symptoms of junk fever 2) Something might be useful someday 3) There's money in that thang 4) Its an antique 5) I might need that 6)I've been meaning to use that 7)It is too valuable to throw away 8) Its parts 9) It cost me money 10) It was given to me.

When you lose your security, you make everything last and keep something because it might have value or be useful in the future. It's similar to farmers who keep their broken down machinery in the bone yard. Then it gets covered with weeds, but "its still money" in the yard.

And I am still so so grateful for all I have in people and in things. Things are not what make us whole, right?

When I broke one of my grandmother's delicate cups from Germany which go to a set of china I had, I was bummed. Like hit me in the nuts, bummed. Only I don't have any nuts. Anymore. Not really. I never had any to begin with. It broke because I have too many dishes and one got pushed too close to it.

Now my set immediately went from 6 to 5. I rarely used it because it was fragile. It was mostly a keepsake to pass down. And pretty. I like pretty things.

Oh, I could have repaired it with glue, but who wants to drink from a leaky cup? And seriously? Sometimes it is time to say goodbye. That's when I realized I need to have a garage sale this summer and get some of this cleaned out. That way I can turn the bone yard into usable greenbacks. And if it fails, I need to donate it to Goodwill.

How do we accumulate so much in short order? Or did I just need to surround myself with Was it like comfort food?

Egads. Comfort junk.

I'm not a hoarder, but I have entirely too much nonsense.

I need to repair and paint the walls, rip out the carpet...etc. And so it begins...

I must do something about this farming problem.



Before the Zombie Apocalypse.


Isn't junk good for that?