So you know when you go to the store in your white curlers that make you look like white trash? And you think "I already look like Buckwheat so why should I change out of my super short jean skirt I wear to clean the house and that white tank top with the sweat stains? Cause I spent twenty minutes fixing my hairdo for my kids party tomorrow so my hair would look good to meet my ex husbands new 27 year old girlfriend for the first time in nine months so Fuck You HEB? I'm going to rock this white trash thing."
And then you drag your toddler there because you promised to make her a chocolate cake from scratch with pink rose all over it-which you can sculpt out of fondant because when you went to a 40,000 dollar a year art school in Manhattan you thought-"Wow-I could be doing installations with Matthew Barney and Damien Hirst!
- OR -
I could just quietly move to Texas, quit painting and hang with my student loans while I sculpt freakishly realistic ballerinas and roses out of colored sugar for toddlers who aren't going to notice and their parents who don't give a shit?
You know that feeling?
Then you drag your child into the store and she's freaking out because she didn't get a nap so she won't sit in the cart-but she won't walk either- and you think "when does the logic part of her brain develop?" and people stare at you because you are not only wearing a short jean skirt and trailer park curlers but you have to wear your dark prescription sunglasses since you lost your 'real' glasses and your child is screaming and you can feel their stress being jacked up as they stare at you thinking-"Jesus get that out of the store Buckwheat?"
But you don't because you think "I am going to make that God Damn cake because you love your daughter dearly-its her first ballerina recital party- and you NEED to show up the 27 year old girlfriend even though she isn't as hot as you are and she works at Petco and-How can you be so petty?
"I WILL make that cake."you think
- Fuck you HEB. I went to art school." So even though your child keeps sitting down in the aisle and blocking people's carts you go ahead and get the cake mix and the powdered sugar anyway? Even though she is now screaming "I hope you get hit by a car!" while you calmly tell her she's going to get put in jail if she doesn't STAND THE FUCK UP and go with you to the check out line?
Then you catch a glimpse of yourself in the 2 way theft-mirror and you look like a haggard woman who either blows truckers for cases of Mountain dew or wrestles gators for fun and so you go ahead and put the Lil Debbies snack cakes and the Tab and the cans of 'store bought' icing in the cart because-
Fuck You HEB.
At the check out counter you look at your phone because even though you arent dating anymore you are still going to make friends with those Match.com men you have accrued and you see that at precisely the time your toddler was screaming that she would NEVER get in the cart and you were yelling I LOVE YOU BUT YOU ARE KILLING ME! GET IN THE CART! your phone DIALED ONE OF THEM ON ITS OWN- one of them who doesn't know you that well.
"Oh well," you thought."Good thing I'm not 'dating' anymore." But that still kind of sucks.
And why does your phone keep fucking up your life anyway? The phone hates you, your toddler wishes you would get hit by a car and you can't even distract yourself by going on dates because you've decided you're too crazy for the men anyway.
Then you see a guy walk by and you think "That guy is REALLY hot." but a few seconds later you realize he is one of those mildly retarded people they hire at HEB to bag groceries and you think "What is WRONG with me?" and vow to get some 'real' glasses-
_ finally you realize that this trip to the store has gone so far south it's not salvagable unless you do something funny so you tell your screaming toddler to -
"Hush up now Pearline cuz Momma's gotta get home and feed yer brother. He's probly sittin in the yard by now eatin dirt cuz your Granny can't watch him right no more since she got on disability." as loud as you can so the woman with the Louis Vuitton purse behind you can stare a little bit more obviously at your curlers.
Then you open your Lil Debbie snack cakes (called Zebra Cakes by the way) and take a huge bite, giving the rest to your daughter who Thank God stops her screaming fit just in time to check out.
"Can I have that Dora movie?" she asks.
"Nope. Caint get that with the food stamps." you say, eyeing Louis Vuitton.
And you split.
And after night night time-since tonight is not a White Wine night even though it's May since you have your daughter you eat the whole can of "store bought " icing and watch Harold and Maude for the 800th time?
"I have had this movie for two weeks. I now have 40 dollars in late fees at Vulcan Video. Why didn't I just buy it for 8.99 on Amazon? Then I could invite that retarded guy over here and he would watch it with me every night because clearly--
1. He won't notcie how weird I am.
2) Like me, he is probably a goldfish in a bowl-swimming around each day -going wow! This looks new! Haven't seen this before! Wow! which makes him highly compatible with me. Except that he has an excuse and I don't.
3) He really WAS hot. Sorry.
You don't know that feeling?
No, I thought not.
Friday, May 27, 2011
So What?
" I think I'm having kidney failure." I told my friend Trixie last night. "My back hurts."
"Maybe that will go away once your little "Drinking Month" bullshit is over." she said.
"No. That's your liver." Don't malign National Alcoholic Month.
" Maybe it's because you sit at the computer all Goddamn day writing that blog." Daisy said as she refilled my wine glass.
We were sitting on my porch last night celebrating what is called "Family Dinner"-an event that happens every Wednesday at my house. There are regulars, but it's an open invitation so anyone could show up. Which is nice, because everyone loves a spontaneous plan. And if too many people come we just run up to the store and get more food.
The best part of Family Dinner is the equation only parents know-which is that every additional child that is in your house decreases the attention you must give your own child by ten percent. So-instead of Ruby forcing all the adults in the house to come play dollies with her like she does when she is the only kid at the party-she becomes part of the pack of children running in and out of the house like wild dogs. Which means more time for the grown ups to sit on the porch and gossip. Or counsel each other out of obsessive hypochondria. Or force the married women to analyze the single girls text messages from boys we like.
We only do that when the men don't come. When men are at Family dinner we act normal and talk about politics.
Last night just Daisy and Trixie showed up with their children.
So did another girl. Who I'm not writing about because she asked me not to-
because even though I will spill all of my secrets-I have discretion with other people's stories. So now I don't write about her. Which-I am just saying-must really suck for her. Because I am funny.
We made frozen pizza and drank some pink wine that Daisy brought. They didn't have pink wine when I went to Napa, so I thought it would be sweeter-like distillation of cotton candy. Was not. But I drank a glass anyway. It's still May.
The children were in the yard catching fireflies after I kicked them out of the house so the kitten could get a break from a dozen tiny hands mauling and squeezing her all at once.
"My God, it will be a miracle if that cat survives into adulthood." Trixie said, as she uncurled her daughters fingers from the cat's throat.
"Look," I said. "Lots of cats suffer from depression because they have no purpose. Just like retired people. That cat is lucky. It has a job-to buy me several precious hours on Facebook every day."
"That is so wrong." said Daisy. She works at Aveda-so she's against animal testing and forced animal employment.
"You tell me when they tighten up the animal slave labor laws and this cat will start getting minimum wage and fifteen minute smoke breaks every three hours. For now-it serves a purpose."
- By the way, I am not the only one who has hired a house pet to help me out. The Nazis did it too. Since I figured out last week that I am Hitler reincarnated someone sent me this link. No, I won't embed the link. I forgot how. No, don't send me instructions on how to imbed the link. I don't care. Just copy and paste it and shut up.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/time/20110526/wl_time/httpnewsfeedtimecom20110525hownaziscientststriedtocreateanarmyoftalkingdogsxidrssfullworldyahoo
Also-they were teaching the dogs to talk at Hitler's dog university-called "Animal Talking School". I am not making this up. Don't be so lazy, just copy and paste it.
If the kitten could talk I think it would say-"Please tell the children to let me down so I can hide under the couch or I will scratch the shit out of them on the face."
While we sat on the porch talking about men we like and women we don't like who are bitches the children fought in the yard over beetle distribution. I had to stand up and yell-
"Stop fighting or I will call the police and the beetles will all go to jail! And I will make you go in the house and stare at the wall!"
"Jesus, it's like Lord of the Flies over there." Daisy watched the children whining and trying to grab the bugs out of each others hands.
"Should we get up?" she asked.
"Nah." I poured her more wine."Not unless one of them gets injured."
"Oh my God! I almost forgot! The Aveda Fairy came for you!" she ran to her car and came back with a paper bag filled with hair products. I clutched them tightly to my chest, it was like Christmas.
"Thank you so much!" Because she gave me a similar bag last month.
"What did you do with all that shit I just gave you?" she asked when I called to see if she had any more.
"None of my dates smoke.So every time I went out I had to spray a bunch of that Aveda stuff in my hair and chew gum so I wouldn't get busted. I ran out."
"I thought you were quitting."
"I am. It's a PROCESS."
But now my precious fluids will last. Because since I'm not dating I don't have to pretend that I never smoke.
Suddenly I heard a wail.
"Is that mine?" I asked. It was.
Ruby ran over to me crying.
"LOOK AT MY FOOT!" she yelled.
I looked. Didn't see anything.
"Yeah-what?"
She turned it over a little.
"NO! Look at the FUCKING bottom! I have a booboo!"
"Sweetie that's not a nice word." I kissed her booboo and she ran off.
A few minutes later "Naughty by Nature" came on, blasting straight into the yard because I like to make sure my neighbors can hear my music.
Ruby suddenly started booty dancing, singing every word in perfect pitch.
"YOU DOWN WIT O.P.P?" she yelled."YEAH YOU KNOW ME!"
"I thought she was over gansta rap." said Daisy.
"She is. It used to be 'Ludachris this' and 'Ludachris that but now she's into Black Sabbath. You know-the early years."
"Of course." nodded trixie.
And Ruby danced into the yard to catch more fireflies.
So, maybe Juan is right on that one. But he's still a jerk.
"Maybe that will go away once your little "Drinking Month" bullshit is over." she said.
"No. That's your liver." Don't malign National Alcoholic Month.
" Maybe it's because you sit at the computer all Goddamn day writing that blog." Daisy said as she refilled my wine glass.
We were sitting on my porch last night celebrating what is called "Family Dinner"-an event that happens every Wednesday at my house. There are regulars, but it's an open invitation so anyone could show up. Which is nice, because everyone loves a spontaneous plan. And if too many people come we just run up to the store and get more food.
The best part of Family Dinner is the equation only parents know-which is that every additional child that is in your house decreases the attention you must give your own child by ten percent. So-instead of Ruby forcing all the adults in the house to come play dollies with her like she does when she is the only kid at the party-she becomes part of the pack of children running in and out of the house like wild dogs. Which means more time for the grown ups to sit on the porch and gossip. Or counsel each other out of obsessive hypochondria. Or force the married women to analyze the single girls text messages from boys we like.
We only do that when the men don't come. When men are at Family dinner we act normal and talk about politics.
Last night just Daisy and Trixie showed up with their children.
So did another girl. Who I'm not writing about because she asked me not to-
because even though I will spill all of my secrets-I have discretion with other people's stories. So now I don't write about her. Which-I am just saying-must really suck for her. Because I am funny.
We made frozen pizza and drank some pink wine that Daisy brought. They didn't have pink wine when I went to Napa, so I thought it would be sweeter-like distillation of cotton candy. Was not. But I drank a glass anyway. It's still May.
The children were in the yard catching fireflies after I kicked them out of the house so the kitten could get a break from a dozen tiny hands mauling and squeezing her all at once.
"My God, it will be a miracle if that cat survives into adulthood." Trixie said, as she uncurled her daughters fingers from the cat's throat.
"Look," I said. "Lots of cats suffer from depression because they have no purpose. Just like retired people. That cat is lucky. It has a job-to buy me several precious hours on Facebook every day."
"That is so wrong." said Daisy. She works at Aveda-so she's against animal testing and forced animal employment.
"You tell me when they tighten up the animal slave labor laws and this cat will start getting minimum wage and fifteen minute smoke breaks every three hours. For now-it serves a purpose."
- By the way, I am not the only one who has hired a house pet to help me out. The Nazis did it too. Since I figured out last week that I am Hitler reincarnated someone sent me this link. No, I won't embed the link. I forgot how. No, don't send me instructions on how to imbed the link. I don't care. Just copy and paste it and shut up.
http://news.yahoo.com/s/time/20110526/wl_time/httpnewsfeedtimecom20110525hownaziscientststriedtocreateanarmyoftalkingdogsxidrssfullworldyahoo
Also-they were teaching the dogs to talk at Hitler's dog university-called "Animal Talking School". I am not making this up. Don't be so lazy, just copy and paste it.
If the kitten could talk I think it would say-"Please tell the children to let me down so I can hide under the couch or I will scratch the shit out of them on the face."
While we sat on the porch talking about men we like and women we don't like who are bitches the children fought in the yard over beetle distribution. I had to stand up and yell-
"Stop fighting or I will call the police and the beetles will all go to jail! And I will make you go in the house and stare at the wall!"
"Jesus, it's like Lord of the Flies over there." Daisy watched the children whining and trying to grab the bugs out of each others hands.
"Should we get up?" she asked.
"Nah." I poured her more wine."Not unless one of them gets injured."
"Oh my God! I almost forgot! The Aveda Fairy came for you!" she ran to her car and came back with a paper bag filled with hair products. I clutched them tightly to my chest, it was like Christmas.
"Thank you so much!" Because she gave me a similar bag last month.
"What did you do with all that shit I just gave you?" she asked when I called to see if she had any more.
"None of my dates smoke.So every time I went out I had to spray a bunch of that Aveda stuff in my hair and chew gum so I wouldn't get busted. I ran out."
"I thought you were quitting."
"I am. It's a PROCESS."
But now my precious fluids will last. Because since I'm not dating I don't have to pretend that I never smoke.
Suddenly I heard a wail.
"Is that mine?" I asked. It was.
Ruby ran over to me crying.
"LOOK AT MY FOOT!" she yelled.
I looked. Didn't see anything.
"Yeah-what?"
She turned it over a little.
"NO! Look at the FUCKING bottom! I have a booboo!"
"Sweetie that's not a nice word." I kissed her booboo and she ran off.
A few minutes later "Naughty by Nature" came on, blasting straight into the yard because I like to make sure my neighbors can hear my music.
Ruby suddenly started booty dancing, singing every word in perfect pitch.
"YOU DOWN WIT O.P.P?" she yelled."YEAH YOU KNOW ME!"
"I thought she was over gansta rap." said Daisy.
"She is. It used to be 'Ludachris this' and 'Ludachris that but now she's into Black Sabbath. You know-the early years."
"Of course." nodded trixie.
And Ruby danced into the yard to catch more fireflies.
So, maybe Juan is right on that one. But he's still a jerk.
How to Stalk A Woman
Ever since my "serial dating" phase is over I am feeling a little bad that-out of all the strangers I met for coffee I never had a real stalker.
Why not me?
I'm totally worth being stalked.
Then I thought-maybe there are lots of men who want to stalk but don't know how. A few of these things have already happened on my dates but no one has really followed through on all of them.
So even though I'm out of the game I will provide some tips as a public service.You're welcome.
How to Effectively Stalk A Woman You've Just Met
1. On the first date bring her a stuffed teddy bear holding a little heart. We all know you're not just going to do this once so stock up on these during the after-Valentines day sale at Walgreens each year. Be prepared.
2.As soon as you can start talking about anal sex. Even before the first kiss-she will be delighted to know that you like it.
3. Before the second date show her how much you like her by lifting her photo off Facebook and making it your profile picture. Then send her a link. Signed "Me"
4. If she doesn't respond to your texts within an hour she could be hurt or dead! It's okay to show up at her house and make sure she's okay. Knock on the bedroom window-especially if it's really late at night. If this appears to make her grumpy don't worry. Just ruffle her hair. She'll get over it the next day when you-
5. Send her a picture of your penis snapped on your cell phone.
6. Surprise her by having a pizza delivered with a little love note inside. Better yet-dress up like the Domino's guy and deliver it yourself. When she opens the door yell-Surprise!
7. Look up her parent's number and call them when you need to talk about your "relationship". They've known her a long time. They can help you understand her. See if her Mom can send you some of her baby pictures so you can start a collage board in your bedroom.
8. If none of these ideas seem to work-don't give up!~ Women are mysterious, unpredictable creatures. Maybe you didn't tell her how much you cared about her and she feels insecure. So, no matter what,
9. NEVER, EVER STOP CALLING.
Good luck boys!
Why not me?
I'm totally worth being stalked.
Then I thought-maybe there are lots of men who want to stalk but don't know how. A few of these things have already happened on my dates but no one has really followed through on all of them.
So even though I'm out of the game I will provide some tips as a public service.You're welcome.
How to Effectively Stalk A Woman You've Just Met
1. On the first date bring her a stuffed teddy bear holding a little heart. We all know you're not just going to do this once so stock up on these during the after-Valentines day sale at Walgreens each year. Be prepared.
2.As soon as you can start talking about anal sex. Even before the first kiss-she will be delighted to know that you like it.
3. Before the second date show her how much you like her by lifting her photo off Facebook and making it your profile picture. Then send her a link. Signed "Me"
4. If she doesn't respond to your texts within an hour she could be hurt or dead! It's okay to show up at her house and make sure she's okay. Knock on the bedroom window-especially if it's really late at night. If this appears to make her grumpy don't worry. Just ruffle her hair. She'll get over it the next day when you-
5. Send her a picture of your penis snapped on your cell phone.
6. Surprise her by having a pizza delivered with a little love note inside. Better yet-dress up like the Domino's guy and deliver it yourself. When she opens the door yell-Surprise!
7. Look up her parent's number and call them when you need to talk about your "relationship". They've known her a long time. They can help you understand her. See if her Mom can send you some of her baby pictures so you can start a collage board in your bedroom.
8. If none of these ideas seem to work-don't give up!~ Women are mysterious, unpredictable creatures. Maybe you didn't tell her how much you cared about her and she feels insecure. So, no matter what,
9. NEVER, EVER STOP CALLING.
Good luck boys!
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