About Me

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I'm 25 and clueless, trying to find my way through a world that is becoming more and more complicated. I'm a single mommy, learning the ropes of parenthood and adulthood and trying not to mess my child up too bad in the process. I moved to Kansas almost 5 years ago from Ohio, where I currently live with my beautiful 5 year old daughter, and our dachshund Oscar. I'm a shy person on the outside, but on the inside I'm a total weirdo. I always speak before I think, (yeah, read that one again) I dance like an epileptic, and I laugh at myself constantly. I love fart jokes and dirty language...who doesn't? And if you're one of those people that don't...well then, fuck you. *fart*

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Conversations with Dishes

Everybody has certain quirks, right? Like...my brother likes to stare at me and drool like a retard whenever we’re in a car together and I’m driving. My boss stretches and says “OKAAAAAYYY” really loud about 5 times a day. (I think it’s a thought-gathering technique. At least I hope it is.) Every time I visit my Grandma, she sends me home with a full bag of groceries from her kitchen. My daughter has to scream “I’m wiping FRONT to BACK mom, just like you said!!!” every time she uses the bathroom – even in public. You know, totally random shit like that.

Well just today I noticed a certain quirk I never really realized I had: when I go to the kitchen to get a drink, I have to take a moment to choose which cup I want to use.

I open the cupboard and simply ponder in my mind:

“I’m not in a plastic kind of mood, plus the only clean plastic cup is neon orange. Ew I hate that one.”

*moves cup out of the way*

“I could go for a glass, but I don’t want the one with Christmas shit on it, and the other ones are really small and I’m thirsty as hell.”

*push to back of cupboard*
*pick a booger*
*fling said booger*

“I would use a mug but I’m not drinking something hot and that just feels wrong…and my favorite mug is dirty too. Shit, I really need to do the dishes. I wish I had a dishwasher because dishes are stupid and they can burn in hell. Where’s that pretty glass that’s shaped like a tulip?”

*peering in cabinet*
*rubbing chin*

“Oh shit, I broke that one a couple days ago. Dammit.  I guess I’ll use one of these fancy ones with the stem on the bottom. Yeah...I’ll sip my strawberry flavored Clearly Canadian like it’s champagne, and I’m a fancy fancy lady with a bidet and a backyard pool and diamonds and shit.”

*smiles approvingly*

“This’ll do quite fine. Ya done good, kid.”

*pats self on back*

Congratulations, people. You’ve just experienced a moment within my mind. Scary, isn’t it?

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

WTF, Illustrator?

So, I went to Dollar General the other day…because I’m cheap and I can get a full cart of groceries there for $40. Don’t judge me. So while I was there I told Peanut she could pick out ONE toy – and that it couldn’t be more than $5. (I guess I forgot that NOTHING in that store is more than $5.) Peanut picked out a little watercolor set that had 3 paint-by-color pictures in it, and she couldn’t wait to get home and paint. And I couldn’t wait to scrub it out of the carpet when she was done. Really, I was giddy with anticipation because cleaning rocks hardcore.

*rolls eyes*

So, when we get home and I got out all the stuff in the box, I looked at the pictures….and there are no words.  Check it out:

Seriously, wtf? Why is the caterpillar wearing a cast?
And what does a caterpillar have to do in order to break a leg?
Motorcycle accident? Sports injury?
I’m stumped.

Then there was this little gem:

… I don’t even know where to begin.
Why is the dog wearing a Santa hat?
What is the pudgy cat doing with fish bones, is that some kind of weird voodoo ritual?
And what in the HELL is up with the tiny mushroom house?

I simply don't get it.  I have come to the conclusion that this illustrator was almost definitely on acid.

Friday, August 20, 2010

The Fucking Ocean, Dude.

So…last week was shark week. I spent the majority of my evenings watching hour after hour of insane shark attack footage and crazy shitheads that think it’s FUN to swim with sharks. And let me just say - being in a shark cage isn’t gonna keep you safe, pal. Just like that snickers bar that slipped through the lining in my purse last week. Oh, I’ll get that sonofabitch. I’ll get it.

This is why I don’t swim in the ocean. (The other reason being that I live in fucking KANSAS.) I don’t have any desire to get into any water when I can’t see what is swimming around me. I am terrified of the ocean. I will watch it on TV, and I really do think it’s fascinating and beautiful. But I will NOT get on a boat. I will NOT surf, and I will NOT scuba dive. Not in this lifetime. There have got to be all kinds of species in the ocean that we haven’t even discovered yet. Who knows what their migratory habits are like, or whether or not they relish the taste of human flesh?

I have thisWii game that I love to play, called Endless Ocean. It is exactly what it sounds like – you are a scuba diver and you play the game by exploring an imaginary sea and categorizing animals that you find. I enjoy playing the game, since scuba diving is something I could never do in real life. But there is one section of the sea in this game that is called “The Abyss”. It’s…well, a fucking ABYSS. It is this huge dark hole in the ocean floor, and I’m expected to go down there and find the kind of ocean critters that dwell in the deepest parts of the ocean. Uhhhhh…fuck that. I won’t even swim my little scuba chick over it. I did try to go down there once, and maybe got a little less than halfway. And out of the pitch black this HUGE sharky/eel type thingy came right at me and I freaked and got the fuck out of there. And sometimes when my scuba chick is just swimming along, a fucking whale comes out of nowhere and scares the shit out of me. Those bastards are sneaky. So, my fear of the ocean knows no boundaries….including imaginary oceans, apparently.

You can't honestly tell me that THIS ugly fucker
popping up in front of your face wouldn't make you shit yourself.

Hopefully someday I will get over my strange and deep fear of the ocean. I would like to travel someday, and being on this particular planet….if you go far enough, you really can’t avoid it. But don’t expect me to jump in the water. Don’t expect me to put on a mask and flippers and a breathing tank and look for shit on the ocean floor. I don’t particularly feel like donating my leg to the Feed-A-Shark foundation. But if you want to go diving – be my guest. I’ll be the one holding the video camera and saying “I told you so” when I capture your loss of limb on tape. And then I’ll submit the video to shark week so I can see myself on TV. That sounds like what we call a win/win, baby! Booyah!

Sorry about your leg though, I’ll totally help you shop for some wicked cool one-legged pants. Wait, do they even make those?

Aaaaannnd….guess who’s going to spend the afternoon finding out.

*points thumbs at self*

Yay Google!!

Monday, August 2, 2010

There Is Something Seriously Wrong With Me.

My mind is not like other people’s. Last night, I had one of the weirdest dreams I can remember ever having. I literally woke up saying “What the fuck?!” and scratching my head. It was that strange.

So, let’s jump right into it. I dreamed that I was me, at my age, and that my mom had written a musical for a production at the Junior High she works at. (Well, she used to. Her position got eliminated and she got moved down to first grade. It’s a bunch of crap because she was an AWESOME teacher for that age group. But that’s a story for another time.) It was entitled: No More Bonnets! An Inspirational Story of Change.  It was about a group of Amish people who were protesting their boring clothes, and wanted to have the freedom to dress as they choose. Some of the songs titles were as follows:

“I Got Manure on my Jimmy Choos”

“We Want Booty Shorts”

"What's Wrong With Thongs?"

“Farming in My Air Force 1s.”

And last but not least…

“Pimped out Buggy”

I was the lead in this musical. (Because a 23 year old starring in a Junior High play totally makes sense, right?)  In the dream I had performed the entire show once before, but when the curtain opened on a full theater…I froze. I forgot every single word. I couldn’t remember how to sing or act, and I totally lost my cool. Which isn’t that surprising in my case, since I don’t have much to lose in the first place. I pulled a copy of the script out of my pocket, and started to do the show with the book in front of my face – hoping that the rest would come to me after a few minutes. It didn’t.

I was so nervous I couldn’t sing anywhere near loud enough – and some bastard hecklers in the audience were screaming shit like: “We can’t hear you!” and “You suck!” which didn’t make the situation any better. I was off key and didn’t know the notes to the song…but I knew the dance moves! I was doing jazz hands like nobody’s business. I did the chorus line can-can and I “raised the roof”. Because that’s how Amish people dance, of course. But I was so nervous and outright terrified that my face probably read “impending heart attack” instead of “theatrical enthusiasm”.

My mom was whisper\screaming at me from backstage: “You can do this! Relax! DON’T RUIN MY SHOW, YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE!!” And about this time is when I looked down, and noticed that my shoes fell off. Not sure how, when or why…but those bitches were gone. Dancing in socks was difficult.  I was slipping and sliding all over the stage, I couldn’t have kept my footing to save my life. And then I fell off the front of the stage and landed directly in Lebron James’ lap – who happened to be sitting in the front row. I stood up, looked around in humiliation, and ran from the room in tears. Then I woke up.

I usually remember my dreams for a few hours before they’re gone – but I have a feeling this one’s gonna stick with me for awhile. So….lesson learned. I will never eat Cheetos before bed again, if this is what will happen.