DISNEY: Behind The Magic Curtain

Reasons why I will never understand your Disney obsessions. 

I mean seriously, SO MUCH EVIL and DARK MAGIC. 
I mean people who won't even let their kids read Harry Potter or Charlie Bone because of all the magic CLEARLY HAVE NEVER SEEN A DISNEY MOVIE.

Beauty and the Beast.

Beast: Lookit, I know you're a prisoner here and all but srsly look at me. Frankly the only way I can get girls is kidnapping and imprisonment. But hey, you can roam freely except the west wing.
#HumanTrafficking

Belle: What's in the west wing? (besides that awesome show with Martin Sheen and Rob Lowe and Joshua Malina and the delightful & delicious #PretendBoyfriend Bradley Whitford)

Beast: IT IS FORBIDDEN! I know, I know, I should just say HEY that's my personal area where I live and there's a giant litterbox I'm embarrassed of and also I DO NOT LIKE PEOPLE TOUCHING MY STUFF OKAY? But doy, I'm stupid and sort of a bully.

Belle: Well  I do what I want and get away with it because you know I'm so beautiful and everyone thinks that and I'm such a rebel Ima go get all up in your stuff and touch everything and possibly ruin a whooooole bunch of lives in the process so SUCK IT BITCHBEAST.
#Privilege #Entitlement 
Also EW #BESTIALITY.

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And then there's Snow White.

Evil Queen: Hey dude, go do a murder for me on this girl just because she's pretty. Here's a fancy jewelry box to put her heart in. I'm sure it will leak blood all over your stuff and start to smell but idc.

Huntsman: Here's your heart.  And hey here's a big platter of fresh bacon and ham and pork chops. 
Totally unrelated and coincidental.

LATER.

FIRST of all, bitch goes breaking and entering and then immediately starts criticizing the housekeeping. Then she makes all the animals do the hard jobs that require THUMBS while she sweeps the floor and twirls around like Billy Madison's kindergarten teacher la la laing.

Then some rando guy claiming princehood rides through the forest and finds a DEAD LADY IN A GLASS BOX and thinks, "Hmm, she's still so pretty and looks reasonably fresh so I GOTTA GET ME SOME OF THAT!"
So then she comes back to life - ZOMBIE - and probably will end up eating his brain and/or flesh at some point which really is no more than he deserves because EW #NECROPHILIAC #PERVY #GROSSTASTIC

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Little Spoiled Brat of the Sea. Daddy issues, anyone?

Ariel: OH HAI yeah I'm up on the surface of the ocean freaking people out so WHAT OF IT MIND YOUR BUSINESS. My pops has like 22 other spawngirls to worry about and I'm the baby so I do what I want anyway and it's no wonder mom took off and prolly faked her own death by pretending to be caught by a fish net.

Say, I wonder why I'm all alone when I have a fafillion sisters? Oh well they're bitches anyways.

Flounder: Um I'm pretty sure I saw a shark and you know they're not scared of fishpeople.

Ariel: SHUT YOUR BLOWHOLE, guppy, you're stupid and a baby.

OH FUCK SHARK SHARK SHARK!

Big Daddy: I WILL DESTROY ALL THESE THINGS BECAUSE YOU FINALLY NEED SOME DISCIPLINE IN YOUR LIFE FOR THE FIRST TIME.

Ariel: I AM 16 AND IN LOVE AND I WILL MARRY THAT FREAKING PRINCE OVER YOUR DEAD BODY IDC. #Selfish #Self-absorbed

Prince Eric: Oh goody, a mute girl. Perfect ending to a suckass week.

OH BUT I LOVE YOU NOW BECAUSE YOU CAN DRIVE A CART.
You are 16, I am 18, older and wiser - I'll take care of you (pretend it's the gazebo scene from Sound of Music)

#StatutoryRape #KingEnabler #NeedParentalPermissionToMarry

Lion King

Nala: OH EM GEE lookie who's here, all growed up! HEY, sorry your dad got like, murdered and stuff and we pretty much abandoned you to your death, but remember what a heinous little arrogant asshole you were as a kid? And almost getting us killed? Good times.

Simba: I SEE DEAD LIONS.

Nala: Well we're starving and too scared to eat the nasty hyenas. Plus they're creepy AF. 

Simba: "Pride" of lions MY ASS, you pussy cats can't even take down some hyenas and a gross old scarred up murder lion. NICE. 

Fine, Ima just go BURN THAT MOTHERFUCKER DOWN. Bye Nalicia.

If you survive, we should hook up after. 

#Murder #HostileTakeover #ChildEndangerment #Arson

Pocahontas.

Ugh. Just no. 

"Conquering" Whitey taking advantage of and killing Native Americans and spreading his diseases I'm sure. 

#Privilege #Entitlement #Genocide

Peter Pan.

Tinkerbell? High toned grade-A bitch. And turncoat, betraying her "beloved" poster child for Arrested Development Peter to Hook just to get back at him because she so jealous.

Wendy? Drama queen. And perpetual "victim".  OOOO PEETAH! BOOHOOHOO! HELP ME! HELP ME! 

Mermaids? Shrewish, mean-spirited harpies with murderous intent.

And Peter? Grandstanding show off. And a total playa. Plus he likes to hit the hash pipe & I'm pretty sure the "magic dust" is PCP because it makes you think you can fly.
I begin to feel some small twist of sympathy for Captain Hook because srsly adulting is HARD and kids are ASSHOLES. And HE GOT HIS HAND BITTEN OFF OH EM GEE WTAF.

#amputee #Kidnapping #Drugs

Sleeping Beauty

Maleficent: GEE, you'd think you'd remember I am the MAGYCKEST PERSON IN THIS HEMISPHERE and make sure I get invited to all the parties. Just for that, your little snotface brat is going to prick her finger on a spinning wheel and DIE.
#MURDERS

King: HA! Well your invitation must have got lost in the mail, but you so cray if you think my daughter is ever going to do manual labor like spinning stuff. So whatever. Also you smell like rotten egg farts.

Also just in case WE ARE GOING TO BURN EVERY SPINNING WHEEL IN THE COUNTRY so there. 
#Arson 

Rumplestiltskin: SON OF A BITCH. Dude you are ruining my whole storyline!
*stomps out to go hide a spinning wheel*

Briar Rose: WTF no one ever even calls me by name. Like that David Allen Coe song. 
Also HEY LOOK A THING WITH A WHEEL AND POINTY STICK SO LET ME JUST TOUCH THE SHARP END!

100 Years Later 
**EDITED FOR DISNEY PURISTS: Okay, so the original fairy tale was a hundred year sleep, the Disney version had Flora, Fauna & Merryweather to break the Prince out of Maleficent's gaol and then still go kiss the apparently dead chick.

Prince: wow, I wonder what is in that castle surrounded by brambles? Lemme just go look.

WOW. DEAD GIRL BUT SHE LOOKS SO PRESERVED. I GOTTA KISS HER.

Oh goody, another necrophiliac. ARE YOU SEEING A PATTERN HERE?

Bambi

Bambi: Say mom, how come all the other kids have a dad? And oh yeah PS thanks for the lame-ass stripper name.

Bambi's mom: Oh, yeah, "Great Prince of the Forest." PFFFT RIGHT. More like Deadbeat Dad. Sweetie, have you ever heard the phrase "humped and dumped?"

Gunshot. Dead Mom. #MURDER
Also WTF HUNTER THERE WERE SOME 10 POINT BUCKS RIGHT THERE AND YOU SHOT A DOE I HOPE THE GAME WARDEN FINES YOUR ASS.

Bambi: YOU KILLED MY MOM YOU BASTARD SO NOW I AM GOING TO AMASS AN ARMY AND WE ARE GOING ALL UP IN YOUR GARDENS AND EATING YOUR VEG AND PLANTS SO SUCK IT HUMANS!

Bambi's dad: GD IT. What the hell. I guess you'll have to come with me now. Just keep quiet and don't bug me or you're out of here.

Bambi + Faline

FIRE FIRE FIRE. #Arson

2 New fawns: Momma, how come all the other kids have a dad?

Faline: Darlings, have you ever heard the term "humped and dumped?"

New Prince of the Forest Bambi waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay off in the distance.

#Abandonment #ChildEndangerment

Just wait until I'm ready to reveal Old Yeller.

Until then, have a day. Now go away.

Lazy AF Cooking with Bonus Lazy AF leftover recipes

I know, I know, since the whole quarantine thing many of you are actually using your time wisely (whatEVER) and actually expanding and practicing and improving your cooking skills because seriously what else do you have to do?

I'm a lazy AF cook on my best day - I mean I don't mind cooking, and sometimes I would actually like it, but when your kitchen is the size of a postage stamp and the only counter space you actually have is about 2 square feet on each side of the sing and head-blocked by the overhanging cabinets - it's difficult and you have to learn how to improvise and use shortcuts.

So if you're more like me, here are a couple of easy-peasy things that don't require much thought or extra ingredients or time.

IT ME.

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Put a package of boneless, skinless chicken breasts in your crockpot/slow cooker/instantpot.
(or thighs if you want. I don't care)
Put a block of cream cheese on top.
Cover it all with a jar of Pace Picante sauce. (I use medium, but you can use hot or mild if you're a weirdo)
Put the lid on and slow cook on low for around 6 hours.
Shred with forks.
Plop some on a warm tortilla and eat.
If you feelin' fancy, add a dollop of sour cream or guac, or lettuce & tomato.
You do you, Boo.

DAY 2 LEFTOVERS:
Roll up leftover chicken mess into leftover tortillas. (flour or corn, whatever, tho' I use flour for this)
Put roll-ups seam side down in a casserole dish.
Open a jar of alfredo sauce and mix in a can of Ro-Tel and maybe a little can of green chiles.
Pour over roll-ups and then you can sprinkle some mozzarella over top of that (if you want. Or not)
Cover with foil and put in the oven at 375 for about 20 minutes. Remove foil and put back in oven for about 10 more minutes or until cheese is bubbly.
VOILA - CHICKEN ENCHILADAS.

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Get a whole chicken. Massage it aaaaalllll over with some olive oil, a little minced garlic (or fresh. or powder. Whatever you already got in your cabinet), salt & pepper. Got rosemary or thyme? Groovy, add that on if you want. IDC.
If you have a lemon or an onion you can shove that up the chicken bum.

I like to roast mine for 15 minutes at 425 and then turn the oven down to 350 for about 20 minutes per pound. Make sure you stab it with your meat thermometer in the middle of the breast & the thigh & check if it's 165°.
Make some kind of veg to go on the side, I generally will put some asparagus, broccoli, & cauliflower covered in olive oil/salt/pepper on a baking sheet on the top rack over the chicken, for the last 30 minutes.
EAT THE DELICIOUS CRISPY SKIN FIRST and ENJOY.

DAY 2 LEFTOVERS, V. 1
Pick leftover chicken off bone. Heat in microwave.
Throw it in a saucepan and pour a jar of alfredo sauce on it, heat slowly while stirring.
If you have any asparagus left over, toss that in the sauce too.
Boil whatever noodles/veggie spirals/spaghetti squash.
Pour sauce over noodle-y stuff. EAT and ENJOY.

DAY 2 LEFTOVERS V. 2
Pick leftover chicken off the bone.
Cook some rice (I use boil in a bag or the instant pot).
Mix rice, chicken, leftover vegetables, a can of cream of mushroom/cream of chicken/cheddar cheese soup - any or all).
Call it casserole and eat.

DAY 2 LEFTOVERS V. 3
Pick leftover chicken off the bone.
Open a bag of frozen mixed peppers and onions (or cut your own julienne slices fresh, Fancypants)
Saute the peppers & onions in a little olive oil and whatever seasoning you want - maybe a little soy sauce or worcestershire (I don't know how to spell that so shut it I DON'T CARE AND YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT SO), maybe a little cooking wine, seasoned salt, whatever you like.
Add the chicken in once the peppers start getting tender.
When chicken is hot and veggies are how crunchy/tender you like them, grab your tortillas and VOILA, FAJITAS.
Once again, sour cream/guac/salsa/cheese if you like.

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Tune in next week for more Lazy AF Cooking, unless I'm too lazy to post it.

♫♪ Talkin' about my generation ♫♪

The last few days I've had to sit back and laugh as I watch all the "Generation Wars" ramping up, much like the "MommyBlogger Wars" a few years ago.

I can't even keep track of what generation I'm supposed to be, GenX I guess because really that one sounds the coolest so it probably is mine.
Also WTF even is Generation Jones? Because apparently I'm at the tail end of that as well, being born in 1968.

I'm going with JoneX. That's my generation.
If you're cool enough I'll let you use that for yourself but don't hold your breath.

My generation is punk and goth and indie music. It's huge hair and cutout sweatshirt necks. It's layered tank tops and leg warmers and shiny metallic jazzercise tights. It's British Knights and Kaepa tennies with the upside down laces. It's bulky thigh length sweaters over turtlenecks with sweater skirts over long john pants. It's clove cigarettes and Strawberry Hill wine. Culottes and (American style) knickers, prairie blouses, Jams shorts and Jellies shoes. It's fingerless lace gloves and layered tutus over torn fishnets with combat boots. It's poodle perms and big round frames for our glasses, sparkly blue eyeshadow and green mascara, banana clips and feathering combs and those stretchy round plastic comb-like headbands.

We were weird and unique and we liked it that way. I still do.

I mean seriously WE are the only ones who ever learned how to actually program a VCR to videotape multiple soap operas on multiple channels during the day while we were in high school/college classes and then program them to tape movies off HBO, Showtime and Skinemax so we could watch all the movies when we were stuck at home and not out carousing and cruising The Strip with our friends.
WE ALONE could squeeze that fourth movie on that VHS tape by carefully running back the credits to the end of the movie, and starting the next at that SPLIT SECOND after the HBO logo ended at the beginning of the next movie, all using three remote controls for TV, VCR, and cable box.

TOP THAT, YOU ROKU FIRESTICK DVRers with your fancy voice controls!

Also we had the bestworst music. You either love it or you lovehate it, and even the country music was so much better.

I know we all think our own was probably the best (and although I don't really like kids of any age, I find the current group of youngsters/young adults are bright and tolerant and learning to fight for their right to paaaaaartay what's right)... but I mean really, in the grand scheme of Things That Actually Affect Your Really For Real Life...does it matter?

It appears that ALL the generations have some things in common, like the willingness to argue over EVERY. DAMN. STUPID. THING. EVER and also take themselves far too seriously in the broadest generalizations.
Have we just run out of better things about which to argue?
Is this like why Hollywood keeps making the same exact movies over and over, like we truly need YET ANOTHER WHOLE VERSION/GENERATION OF A CHARLIE'S ANGELS MOVIE OMG NO THANK YOU PLEASE!

Some of y'all need to just

SNL Simma Down Now GIF from Snl GIFs

My life in a sentence.

TMW you noticed earlier that black hairy spider on the ceiling and now you can't see it but you know they are the tricksy ones that often wait until you walk under the doorway so they can drop down on your head and now you are pretty sure it might be in your hair and you squeal and start to to flick your fingers through your hair to get it out and then realized that you slept on your back last night and YES IT IS 3PM RIGHT NOW and you haven't brushed your hair yet today SO WHAT MIND YOUR BUSINESS and it's a yuge rat's nest on the back of your head and there could actually be a small community of spiders living in that thing and you'd never know it so then you have to scream (and possibly pee a little if you're old and you've had kids and stuff like me shut up) and bend over to start shaking your rat's nest and whack your forehead on the desk and yell for help or scream GET IT OUT GET IT OUT and turns out there was nothing in there and now you see the spider near your doorway and now you're trapped in your room with a possible concussion at least until you can find a hairbrush and/or Windex.



via GIPHY

Little of this, little of that.

If I ever get another animal I'm naming it Peeve, so I can say, "Yeah this is my pet, Peeve."

I feel like I'm going to have a lot of animals with the same name.

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Speaking of Peeves, I've already put in a request to be a poltergeist after I die, and I will be like Harry Potter's Peeves and follow people around making sarcastic remarks and spitting paper wads at them.
So just like in my real life.

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In my facebook memories:

"If I ever open a tattoo parlor, it's going to be called Tattooine."

You will not get it if you're not cool.
ALSO STILL A VIABLE PLAN SO DON'T STEAL IT. GAH.

Also in facebook memories:

"If you don't get my jokes, you probably don't deserve to be my friend."

#TrueStory

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I'm opting for National Need Books & Booze Month, or NaNeeBooBooMo.

Which reminds me I tried NaNoWriMo one time and did like two days before it completely fled my mind, which is why you will never ever have to worry about competing against me on the NY Times Bestseller List.
YOU ARE WELCOME.

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Also it's MOVEMBER so the air will soon carry the scent of Jovan Musk and Boogie Nights.

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Becca took The Littles (my nieces) trick or treating last night so she got paid in candy and I'm figuring out my fee but mathing is hard.

So, like 4 twizzlers, 12 bite snickers, 7 Reese's peanut butter cups, and 8 fun size three musketeers makes like, what, one regular size candy bar, right? #Frankenbar

Don't worry, I left Becca all the mounds, milky ways, and generic gross stuff.

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Don't forget, this Sunday the other half of your clocks will be correct.

Lost In Translation II

When I said: "Agree to disagree."
What I meant: "You are still SO VERY WRONG but I'm bored of you now."

When I said: "Have a blissful day!"
What I meant: "Ignorance is bliss and you are a ginormous ignorant assclam."

When I said: "I can't even!"
What I meant: "I'm fixin' to cut a bitch."

When I said: "Of COURSE it's not about you!"
What I meant: "Of COURSE it's about you!"

When I said: "I HATE EVERYONE."
What I meant: "I HATE EVERYONE."

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If I made crayons, they would be named "Depression Blue" and "Hot Flash Red" and "Bitter Envy Green."

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One thing Nicole and I discovered on our Haunted Road Trip Adventure is that NO TOWN is too small for Dollar General. No, srsly.

A PSA - Parental Service Announcement

You know, my parents never told me about RHPS. Not once was it mentioned in our house - I had to learn about it the hard way, on the streets. In fact, the very first time I really even heard of RHPS was from a church friend when I was IN COLLEGE.
COLLEGE, PEOPLE.

I felt so...Amish.
I've never felt so alone in my life as that long ago midnight when I went for my first viewing.


I decided right then and there that my kids would never suffer from RHPS deficiency! Their lullabies were Hot Patootie, Bless My Soul and Touch-a Touch-a Touch-a Touch Me. We Time Warped our way through toddlerhood. My daughter's first word was "antici....
.....
.....
.....
pation."

So please, parents, don't let YOUR child be the one getting hit in the head with bits of toast or toilet paper without knowing what's going on - you don't want the kid to be afraid there's a riot breaking out, right? Make sure yours is not the only one not shouting "ASSHOLE!" whenever he or she hears the name "Brad Majors." Don't let them suffer the embarrassment of not knowing how to do the Time Warp. And above all, teach them the "Sweet Transvestite" lyrics.
I mean, can you imagine the humiliation when walking into your first midnight showing, and you know none of the words? Or characters? When you have no clue how to even begin to Time Warp?
Do the right thing - sit your (age appropriate) kids down in front of the blu-ray with you tonight.
TEACH THEM. It's your job as a parent.

You can thank me later.

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Some of the above story may or may not be true, and may or may not be exaggerated or possibly completely made up in all ways. Except for the first part, which is totally true, much to my embarrassment.

Flashback Friday: FRIDAY NIGHT LIVE, the lost episodes...

So I had completely forgotten I still had podomatic accounts - remember when I used to upload the shows in case you missed the live version? #Nostalgia

Let's Friday Night together.

From 2009 and 2010: FRIDAY NIGHT LIVE with Monty!

Tiny Houses

So I'm guessing most of you are familiar with The Next Big Thing, which turns out to be Tiny Houses. I see a fafillion of them in my facebook newsfeed - some of them are so adorable! Energy efficient, cost effective - many are pretty much completely run on solar power. I think there's even a TV show about Tiny Houses on a cable channel.
I am intrigued by the idea...every time I see those walls made completely of glass, looking out onto the gorgeous scenery, I really really want one. Then I think about having to clean all the pollen, dirt, dead bugs, and birdshit off those windows and it's a little less appealing.
I do like the ones made from those pod storage or shipping containers - I'd make a "double-wide" out of a couple of those. My mom wants a tiny house. My cousin and his wife just bought some land (near Luther, where *I* grew up and he visited during summers, coincidentally) and they're planning to build a tiny house as soon as they can shove their last nestling out into the Great Big World.
Since you know I'm totes lucky when it comes to finding excellent bargains, there just happens to be a Tiny House available right near me and I'm pretty sure I can get it fairly cheap! It's a bit of a fixer-upper, but I've got a few years left in me before retirement (HAHAHAH RIGHT, like I'm ever going to be able to Not Work), so I'm pretty confident I can do most of the work myself.

So I present to you....my Tiny House.

Sure, it needs some work - a good scrubbing and maybe a new coat of paint for the front door.
But it has a fireplace, and I bet that'll be good enough to warm the entire house!

Okay, it needs a good sweep-out inside too, but there's plenty of room for a visiting kid. And see? Built in bookshelves too!

It's got a tiny stove with an open window to enjoy the view while I'm cooking:

And a little sink for the washing up. It's even wired for a landline telephone in case I move the house to a place with no cell-phone reception:

I think I'll put my sleeping area by the fireplace so I will be toasty warm all winter!

It's even got a quick-slide exit that could totally double as a wheelchair ramp for Joshua:

Back patio where I can sit outside with my coffee and enjoy nature:

And it's even furnished with a deep-freezer chest - it comes with the house! How lucky can you get?

The current owners even started building an add-on barbeque pit...well, I guess it's not really a *pit* because it's elevated. But it'll perfect for backyard summer parties, right?

I will be sure to invite you over - one at a time, of course - for a series of housewarming parties when I get moved in. Make sure you RSVP, please.

I just invented a new game: FACEBOOK BINGO

I win almost every day. Anyone else want to play?

My fallback career.

This is what the stationery section of all the stores would look like if I were in charge.
Maybe I could print them out and sell them on street corners.

#IfIWroteHallmarkCards

#ShouldBeAHallmarkCard (notice mine are the best ones. Is all I'm saying.)

Things I SHOULD Say

Just to counterbalance my last post...things I don't say often enough and shouldn't assume that you already know.
(#YIIAY Lisa)

1. I don't hate you. Mostly.

2. Your posts always make me smile with delight at your happiness.

3. It is utterly comforting to know I can ask you for anything, any time.

4. I'm glad I met you.

5. Your friendship sometimes makes me a nicer person.

6. I sincerely appreciate you and all that you do for me. In fact I like you well enough that I'd probably appreciate you if you did nothing for me ever.

7. Sometimes the laughter at your posts is what gets me through the day.

8. I truly value you and I'm happy you're in my life in some small way.

9. I hardly ever want to headstab you.

10. I do love you. For reals, yo. In a totally non-sexual way. Except maybe you and you...how YOU doin', baby?

11. Most of these are probably about all of you.

Inspiring you to greater highs and lower lows

No need to thank me. It's what I do.

#FakeInspirationalCrap  <~~Just click it. 

Getting personal

My friend Lisa said that I should write something about her during my "one paragraph per day" challenge. I told her I wasn't sure I could come up with a whole paragraph or maybe even a whole sentence past "Lisa sucks". But in order to prevent much whining (like she does whenever she doesn't get her own personal ringtone on my phone), I guess I can tell you that she's probably one of the best people I've ever met - she's generous to a fault and she can be sort of mean and very sarcastic and of course you know I like that in person. If she were an animal, she'd be a bulldog because she does NOT LET (the Guinness*) GO. That can be sort of bad if she's on the wrong track, but mostly it's a very good thing except if she's nagging. Also? She's really pretty and she lets me say rude things to her in texts. She exercises a lot which makes me hate her a little, but she makes up for it by not reminding me that I'm fat and lazy. She's a good houseguest too, except when she makes me fetch her coffee like eleventy-three times per day. But I guess I love her anyway. Mostly.
Don't be jealous because I didn't write about you - she asked, you didn't. Also she is an attention hoor.

*inside joke

Stream Of Consciousness - A brief & uncensored peek into my brain.

I dare you to try it. Close your eyes like you're preparing to meditate and just type whatever floats across your mind. No peeking! Ready? Okay. Now what? I can't think of anything because I'm tryig to think of something. I think this is why I stopped blogging. No, actually I think I stopped because I started making more friends and then my family started reading and I started caring what people thought. I mean I've always sort of cared what people think about what I write, but I don't get all weird about it because I typically try to offset my bitchiness with a litle humor and oh shit I think I just made a typo. OMG what if my fingers were on the wrong keys all along and this is a bunch of gibberish? Did I spell gibberish correctly? I wnat to peek but I won't cheat. OH cheating. I could write something about that. This will probably be the longest paragraph ever, sort of like one of Danielle Steele's paragraphs only without eleventy three commas per sentence. But she makes millions so I guess maybe I should try doing things her way. I wonder if anyone else ever picks up a Danielle Steele book and thinks well, I wonder who is giong to die or get maimed first? Because that seems to be a recurring theme, not to mention all the broken hearts that happen. Where was I going with that? Diphenhydramine. I don't even know what that is or why I just htought of it. I wonder if I spelled it correctly? WTF am I even thinking about? I am clearly a lunatic.

Your turn - I triple-dog dare you.

blah blah blah

I just deleted my paragraph for today because it was very ranty and I wasn't in the mood to take any shit from anyone over it. So instead, I decided to tell you about my paragraph for tomorrow. Many years ago (some of you will remember because you participated!) I did a little thing here with "Stream Of Consciousness" typing - close your eyes (NO LOOKING at the keyboard or the monitor!) and just type whatever thoughts are going through your head at that moment. It's a fun little peek into your thought process. It doesn't have to mean anything or even make sense, but I invite you all to try it and drop me an email or FB message so I can look into your brain for a minute or two. Right now I'm trying to decide if I should do mine before or AFTER coffee. Maybe I'll do both.

Stuff I don't get.

I have yet to read a reasonable explanation that makes ANY sort of logical sense from those parents who BAN HARRY POTTER books and movies because they're so chock-full of THE DEVIL STUFF: sorcery and witchcraft and evil...when those same parents welcome Disney with open arms.

Like...Sleeping Beauty - you know, with Maleficent and magic spinning wheels and those silly little fairies.
Or Cinderella - you know, with a fairy godmother wielding her magic wand and turning veggies and farm animals into other stuffs. Not to mention talking mice.
And Snow White, where murder is the main theme.
Or like Aladdin, with the magic carpets and wish-granting genies and evil Grand Vizier.
And take the Little Mermaid - sixteen WHOLE YEARS OLD giving up her voice to a spellcasting octopus, while her dad carries a giant magic fork.
We can't forget Peter Pan, with the sewing on of shadows, the magic dust (PCP? DRUGS THAT MAKE YOU THINK YOU CAN FLY!), nasty little vicious Tinkerbell, murdering mermaids...
And let us not forget Beauty and the Beast, where an enchantress turned everyone into mundane objects...except for that giant, hairy, bloodthirsty beastie.

And that's a fraction of the list.

GOOD SENSE. You should get some, it's nice.

Just call me Mother Fail.

Look up "hands-off" parenting in the dictionary, and you'll see my picture.
I wasn't made for motherhood.
My womb doesn't give a throb when I see someone's crinkly, red-faced, screaming new baby. Holding someone's (usually smelly and/or loud and/or irritating) baby doesn't make me long for another one of my own - not even for one single solitary second.  I don't CARE how much they weighed at birth, how long they were,  how loudly they cried.
You can tell me if you want, but three seconds later it's as if you never mentioned it - the stats are gone from my mind. 
Seriously, I have much better uses for my memory storage capacity, like the fact that Erwin Rommel was known as The Desert Fox or obscure movie quotes from movies nobody but me has ever seen ("I'll curse if I WANT to curse! DAMN DAMN HELL DAMN TEE-TEE DOO-DOO!") or that Barbie's full name is Barbara Millicent Roberts.
You know. The important stuff.

Ask me about my kids' milestones. How old was my daughter when she took her first steps?
Um. I'm not sure. She was little.
First words? Uh...
Did I write it in the baby book? Maybe, but I'm not really sure exactly where the baby books are. I'm sure they're around here somewhere. In the house. Probably. 

Honestly  it's a wonder they're not feral.

Or maybe they are...my daughter certainly learned to forage at an early age. She was around 3 or 4 when I woke up one morning and went into the kitchen - and the refrigerator door was wide open, there were two open jars (one grape jelly, one Miracle Whip) on the floor with the lids off, and a butter knife.
My daughter said to me (okay, so clearly this means she was talking and walking at age three-ish/four-ish) "I was hungry so I made a mandayse sandwich and a jelly sandwich. Josh didn't want any." (let me just point out here that Joshua is non-verbal, yet she always claimed to know what he wanted. Probably she was right)

Same age, one morning she brought me breakfast in bed -- a piece of chocolate cake.
I asked her how she got such a nice piece of cake by herself, and she said, "Wiv a butter knife but I was berry careful."

I took this to mean I no longer had to prepare her meals and could turn over the cooking to her capable little (wee tiny) hands.
I do love sandwiches and cake, you know.

As soon as she was tall enough to (climb on a stepstool and) reach the washing machine controls, she learned to do laundry as well. Except for that one incident with the candy and bubblegum left in a pocket, I've never regretted that decision.

When she was learning her numbers, I figured that it's never too early to learn how to play Texas Hold 'Em. IT WAS PURELY IN AN EDUCATIONAL CAPACITY. Plus we played for M&Ms and I loves me some M&Ms.

And really, who DOESN'T use liquid Tylenol to teach their kid how to do shots? IT IS A LIFE SKILL.

And so what if I talked her into taking a bite of a dog biscuit that one time? She was always pretending to be a wolf anyway. Plus also dog biscuits are totally edible for people. IT WAS LIFE-SAVING INFORMATION SO THAT SHE WOULD NEVER STARVE.

Oh okay, I guess I have to be a little more hands-on for Joshua, since he is like a baby and can't do anything for himself. Probably it's one of those disguised blessings, since I would have failed more miserably if I'd had to chase both of them. 
And he does shake hands when you say "How do you do?" SO THERE.

But despite my best efforts to ruin them, my kids have actually turned out better than most - and I say that in a purely I-don't-really-like-kids unbiased way.

And in case you were planning to call DHS, I should tell you that they're over 18 now so HA HA HA.

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*disclaimer: this is totally about ME ONLY, so if you're one of the women who love to have babies and be surrounded by children and love having even more - more power to you. Some of my friends have 5 or more children and they excel at it. I'm just not one of you.

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Me Thinks

Some days I wish I could just say "Hey, if everyone could just paypal me $5, that'd be great. Thanks."

I'm only half-way kidding on that first thing.

Instead of saying, "Do bears shit in the woods?" from now on I'm going to say, "Does Neptune shit in the ocean?" because I am a trendsetter like that.

Sometimes when you remove yourself - or at least step back from - a situation, you can see personalities and traits much more clearly. And they don't always show in a good light.

My truest friends are the ones who continue to try to scratch the surface, no matter how many times I reinforce the barriers.

I once thought of being a real writer, only I find writing dialogue TOO too tedious. Also I have no knack for it - I write the most boring conversations ever.

If you're going to pretend to talk on your cell phone like you're King Shit of Turd Mountain, you should remember to set your ringer to 'vibrate' in case someone actually calls.

It's not fear of committment, it's survival instinct.

If I ask you questions and you ignore them, how are you then surprised when I stop bothering to ask? I'm not going to waste my time.

Related to ^^: Just because I don't ask doesn't mean I don't care.

One of my biggest pet peeves is being ignored, or left out, or unacknowledged. YES I KNOW IT IS A SELF-ESTEEM ISSUE. It makes me irrational.

Related to ^^: There are many, many things that make me irrational.

Some things are only douchey when YOU do them. Because some people just have the knack for being douchetastic.

I get more annoyed with smart people who post stupid, ignorant, un-fact-checked nonsense on facebook than I do when ... smarts-challenged people do it.

Grumpy Cat makes me happy.

There are at least 3 people in the world who should be extremely happy that head-stabbing is against the law. And also that I am scared of prison.

I like to watch Chopped or Iron Chef when I am eating, so I can pretend my bacon is braised pork belly or I can call my home-made bacon bits "lardons" in a haughty manner, the way certain people I know insist on calling green beans "haricots vert".

Reflections

Aaaah Valentine's Day.

That love-fest of a day in which I snuggle on the couch by myself and watch romantic comedies like My Bloody Valentine (the original one from 1981!) and eat chocolates which I stole from my kids, who actually got Valentine candy  and drink a whole bottle or maybe two of wine.

And I reflect upon past Valentine's Days...

...like the one where I was dating that clown I met online.
No, seriously, like a real clown. With the makeup smile and big pants. And MAGIC TRICKS, like pulling a quarter out of my... ear.
And BALLOON ANIMALS! Actually he did make me a cute balloon thingy for Valentine's Day, it was two little balloon lovebirds surrounded by a big balloon cage heart.
And NO, he did not wear the clown makeup on our dates.
Except that one time. But we don't talk about that.

...and the one where Valentine's Day came WAY too soon after we just started dating, and I didn't know what to do. I mean it was only like our 3rd date - I got him a card (a funny one, of course, no mush)...then I panicked. Do I have to get him a GIFT? And what do I get him? Plus also THIRD DATE! That's like the sex date, right? So ... do I get him a box of Trojans and wrap it up in sparkly heart paper with a card that says "Guess who's gettin' lucky tonight!"? Do I vajazzle? Stick a red bow down my pants?
I ended up giving him a tiny stuffed "heart" bear with candy hearts attached to it...that I had actually bought for MY SON.
OMG.
I'm embarrassed just thinking about it.
On the other hand, he bought me a really nice gift basket with bath stuff and lotion. So clearly he thought I needed to smell like something called Moonlight Way (which frankly reminded me of cat pee juniper bushes).

I don't know why I'm still single, do you? I KNOW, I AM SUCH THE CATCH!

But then I always finish the night thinking about the BEST Valentine's Day, which was sad and sweet and scary and excellent all at the same time.

Valentine's Day 1995.
The day I first laid eyes on my children.

You see, they were born on Feb 13, the day before V-Day. They were 3 and a half months premature (which, if you read yesterday's annual birthday post, you already knew - and if you didn't read it, what the hell is wrong with you? Scroll down when you're done here)...and I wasn't allowed to go from my hospital (University Hospital) to Children's Hospital (where the NICU was) until the next day.
Of course I was so full of morphine I barely noticed. (also? HOORAY FOR MORPHINE! ♥)

Valentine's Day I was wheeled through a series of connecting tunnels and hallways to the Big Scary NICU, where I had to scrub my hands and arms for 10 minutes before I could even go in and still wasn't even allowed to touch them, except to cup my hand over their bottom & legs - which wasn't even a handful.

And there were these two beds with hot bright lights over them - sort of looked like where they keep the burgers warm at McDonald's, you know the metal thing with the heat light? Like that.
And there were these two red, scrawny, ugly, spider-monkey-looking babies with folded down ears (!!!) and covered in tape and tubes and wires and IVs and O! they were beautiful and scary and pitiful and hurting and painful to look at and my heart broke and bled and loved.

Given less than 50% chance to live, they turned 18 years old yesterday.

Best. Valentine. Present. EVER.