Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Things that make you go hmmm...

Did you ever think about what could possibly happen if you were lucky enough to date/"have relations" with Edward Cullen? (Twilight)


Did something like THIS ever cross your mind?


Need I say more????
(cold "pole" + tongue = next time- you're on your own!)
;o)

Are you starring at her?

My husband loves me- but how could he dare.

Look at that girl- it was more like stare.

He thought he did it without me seeing

If he keeps it up - through a tube he'll be peeing.

Yeah- she was hot- I have to admit.

Stop starring at her or I will pitch a fit.

I don't think he realized the spell he was under.

Should my husband be on meds- I started to wonder.

I said- "what are you doing?"(I was ready to fight)

He turned to me and laughed- I knew I was right.

My husband is still in one piece - the girl is not dead

Mainly because there's no use- she' a styling Barbie Head!

This story is true- he even admitted she was hottie.

Lucky for me- she doesn't come with the rest of her body!

Monday, December 29, 2008

It's not you- it's me...

Click here to read blog to me.

Crap. Have you ever had this happen to you? You were going to break up with someone (americasnexttopmommy) and then that person says (or writes) something (a blog) about you and then you have to put it off. I feel bad because I was just about to give her the honest truth (a huge lie) that it has to do with me- and not her. That we have grown apart. We have different interests. I love to sit on my ass- she loves to work out at the gym for hours. I love frosting- she loves spinach salads. She gets high off of cleaning - I get panic attacks just thinking about cleaning. And most of all- she has allergies! She's allergic to bananas- I actually am NOT allergic to that fruit. (so there!)
She did buy me and my family some awesome gifts for Christmas- and she does get my constant sarcasm. (My own mom calls it annoying at times)
I guess I won't break up with her...today.

*to be continued.

(unless you are americasnexttopmommy - then I was talking about the other americasnexttopmommy- not YOU! We will be together forever. BFFs)

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Happy or Sad?





I went to a beautiful wedding last month. It was at an expensive place on the water. Just beautiful. Love was in the air. It was like a scene right out of a movie...
A very scary movie.


Everyone there had the same expression on their face. It wasn't joy or happiness. It was botulism. My friend (the bride) works for a dermatologist/cosmetic surgeon. All the female guests had the same freaky frozen face. Not one wrinkle on their foreheads. No laugh lines. Crows feet- forget about it! I was so creeped out at first. Without even being aware of it- I actually started to imitate them. It was like when you are talking to someone foreign- you automatically start to say things like Good Day, Mate (when talking to a Wiggle) and Hola, Papi. (when talking to someone like Dora the Explorer's Dad) You just can't help it- you just start to imitate the person's cool accent. *This does not apply when talking to someone from Long Island - that accent is just too annoying to imitate...ever!


So anyway- My husband had to pull me aside and to tell me to remove that fake smile on my face. (I was way too busy thinking how this women's face looked like a train wreck)


After the initial shock- I decided to have fun with it. My husband and I started to play a game called "Real or Fake." I was clearly the winner. He wasn't much competition - but he was the ONLY one I could play with. I must admit- he could pick out a pair of fake ones from a mile away! (hey- I was too drunk to notice that at the time- he is in such big trouble!!)





What the F_____!!??? I just don't understand why people do it. You DON'T look younger! You look like a Marionette!!





The reason I am bringing this up is to stop anyone who is thinking about getting any cosmetic surgery done. You will never fool anyone. People will laugh at you and YOU will lose your ability to laugh. You will have no expressions. You win the lottery- freaky frozen smile. Your Pet dies - freaky frozen smile.



Look at poor Meg here. She is one of my favorite actresses. I have even met her on vacation. (we vacation in the same town every summer) I have seen her without botox and I have seen her with it. Meg- you screwed up your face, sister. To quote one of my favorite Meg movies, French Kiss: "Corresponding face to the corresponding emotion." That Meg is what's normal!


Just say No to Botox and collagen.




*If you already had work done on your face- then this blog does not apply to you. You look fabulous, darling.





Tuesday, December 16, 2008

I am one of THEM...

Well - I am one of them now. You know- those people who are obsessed with Twilight. I have to admit- I made fun of those people before I became one. ("A Vampire romance- what the frig? You can't just read "normal" traditional smut?)
Twilight was also a Learning experience for me:
This is what I learned about myself:
I can read a 400+ page book in only 5 days! (I usually take months)
I can "interact" with my kids while still reading. (yes- I can)
I don't mind Sponge bob Square Pants as much as I thought I did. (this fact I am not proud of- but it kept my kid's interest long enough for me to read another chapter)
Thanks to Twilight- I learned I have something in common with my husband. I too like to go/stay in the bathroom for 25 minutes now. (I used to get furious with my him for doing so, but not anymore) I understand him.
Oh yeah- one more thing- I am a Vampire.

Reasons follow:
1. My hands and feet are always ice cold.
2. My love for red meat: Anything that moos or oinks...growls. I need a meat product with every meal to actually feel full/SATISFIED.
3. I am pasty white.
4. I don't sleep- this one is actually due to my kids, but I feel it still counts.
5. I have major mood changes. (and not just one week out of the month)
6. I fight back thoughts of attacking my husband. (especially when he wakes me up at 1 AM to find the Oragel)
7. My sense of smell is amazing. I am known as the Super Sniffer. I can smell anything and everything from a mile away.

Be warned. Be careful. I am Vampire - hear me Roar.
Watch out Edward- here I come!

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Eat this and choke on it

I can't remember what the fight was about, but I must have been really mad. How do I punish my husband while still having to make breakfast? Hummmm. Yeah- that was about as long as it took me to figure this one out. Make him pancakes.
Make him pancakes? How can this be punishment? No- I didn't poison the batter. I wanted to make some for my daughter too. I started by making your traditional round pancakes- 2 of them- and then a nice long...
Yup and let me tell you -phallic shaped pancakes are even harder to swallow than the real deal.
He learned his lesson- and I don't think he has asked for pancakes since. It was a win win situation!

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Dating is so much easier Now!

Dating is so much easier now. You don't need to go out to a bar- or pretend to buy PVC pipe at Home Depot to find a date. They can now be delivered right to your door! I'm not talking about match.com or patheticlydateless.com- I'm talking about Freecycle. That's right- stay with me.
I figured out this great service one day when I was trying to get rid of some of my pants and shirts that didn't fit me anymore. (my hips never went back after kid #2)
OFFER: Women's size 3 long pants and shirts size small
Of course- All the women that replied- were tall and skinny bitches. (yes- I know I used to be one too- OK- I still am) Anyway- I also added that they were stylish- good for college students/young adults. The next day- I had 2 young women show up at my door.
Hummm... if you say you have something free- the people that can use that particular item respond to your email -then come over and pick it up. Right? How great! Almost effortless.
Now- back to my reason why dating is so much easier now. If I were single- I would use Freecycle all the time! ;o) My ad would look something like this:
OFFER: Magnums
I might even add- please send picture with your email request. (you know- just so I know who to look out for) It would have nothing to do with my selection.
Whaala- a well endowed dude shows up at your doorstep.
And if I happen to be wearing a full face of make-up and tight pants when he arrives- it would be by mere coincidence.


Warning- (here is where I am a buzz kill) If you do use freecyle- be a smart user. Do not open your door up to just anyone- or pick up an item at some strange house by yourself. Leave your items on your front doorstep and always take someone with you. Or you could be like me - ready for anything. Remember- there is no such thing as too much mace or a pocket knife that is way too sharp.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Allergies suck A _ _!!

I used to be "normal." I used to be carefree. I loved to travel. I liked going out to dinner. Not now. It all started on my 24th birthday. My life changed forever. I acquired allergies. Like I said- it was on my 24th birthday when it all began. My friend and I went into NYC on the train to see my on again off again boyfriend's band play at a club. I didn't feel that great the whole ride there. I thought it might be motion sickness so I sat quietly while drinking my FRUIT punch. When we got off the train we went directly to their hotel. Now- not only did I feel stomach sick- I felt winded. I dug into my purse for a CHERRY cough drop hoping that it might give em some relief. I laid on the bed and watched everyone get ready for the concert. (what the heck is wrong with me?) At the club- I actually felt better. I had a few drinks - hoping to lighten up- nope nothing. I felt like ass. Everything was such an effort that night. My smile was fake. I had trouble concentrating. I didn't have any spit fire comments. I was a dud. I couldn't wait to go home- but dreaded the train ride back. I had to go to work in 5 hours. Crap- make that 4 and a half hours. To make a long story short- I got home- slept an hour- and went to work.
At work- I slowly walked down the hallway to my office- everyone saying "happy birthday, birthday girl." Ahhhh- and there it was again- that fake smile. I hate my fake smile- it is so- FAKE. It looked more like a gag reflex than a smile.
Anyway- I got to my desk and there sat beautiful flowers - a mix of lilies, rose, some purple smelly ones. Whatever. They were flowers. (I have never seen the point of cut flowers- they die in a week. Who am I trying to kid- even the ones I have in pots or in the ground die in a week)
OK- here comes the major downer to my birthday. I passed out. Not right away. I decided to wait until after they surprised me with a cake. I had some RED Gatorade and some PINK frosting- and then I surprised them by hitting the floor. When I came to- there were about 7 paramedics standing over me saying- " She looks like Daryl Hannah- doesn't she?" "Has anyone every told you that?" ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I can't breathe, you morons.
Needless to say- I survived. Thanks to the makers of Benadyl. (which- by the way- I gave myself right before 911 was called)
After a series of tests- I was told I was allergic to shellfish- and then they gave me the best medical advice they had- don't eat it. That's it. They never picked up that I was also allergic to Red dye- so I landed in the ER quite a few times after that.
This is the best part- since I would take Benadryl right after the reaction occurred (like any normal human would). Since I had no symptoms when I arrived at the hospital - the doctors started to believe that I was a hypocondriac. Now the ER MDs were convinced that I was only having panic attacks and not an allergic reaction. (I know what it feels like not to be able to catch your breathe- I know what hives look like) More visits to the ER. What the F______!!! Every doctor I saw had the same opinion- panic attack. (Should I not to take benadryl just to prove them wrong?? I'm blond- Not stupid!)
Even my primary physician was even saying that that was what it was. Huh. Now- I actually started to believe them. I was really stressed at work. I also had a 50 year old rug wearing stalker who would draw freaky mystical pictures of me and hang them in the lobby of my building. I was also living the movie- Single White Female- with my psycho roommate. (she dyed her hair my color- wore my clothes- bought jewelry like mine- called my boyfriend back- listened at my bedroom door to see who I was talking to and had to know where I was going at all times)
I started to doubt myself. (maybe they were right- I have been unusually stressed)
They wanted to put me on meds- I refused. In the back of my confused mind I still believed there was something they were missing. I was miserable though. No one was on my side. Now I was afraid to eat alone. Am I allergic to this? Will this send me back to the ER? I wondered if everyone thought I was a freak. I was losing weight. I looked terrible- I felt terrible. Now I really started having panic attacks.
(Didn't I state above that I was going to make this long story short? Sorry- not happening)
Finally- I kept a journal of what I ate. After about 4 months- I figured out the Red dye allergy and then I did what I have been wanting to do for a long time- kicked my doctor's ass to the curb. Only after I rubbed this in her face. That bitched made me have panic attacks- and once you have them- they are so hard to get rid of!
I don't eat out anymore. I cook everything. There is so much cross contamination going on in restaurants. French fries and chicken are sometimes cooked in the same oil as shrimp. (learned that the hard way) Restaurants use the same grills for fish as they do burgers. So if I don't eat out- it makes it very hard to vacation anywhere. I can go on and on- and on- but I won't. Blogger has asked me to wrap this story up. I'm depressing their readers.

*No MDs were harmed during this period of my life.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Rain? or Tears?

What seemed like a fun activity to do on a rainy day turned into one of the reasons why (I feel) I have high blood pressure. My 3 yr. old (this is where you start feeling sorry for me) loves doing arts and crafts. She will sit for an hour at the kitchen table gluing scrap pieces of paper to empty shoe boxes. Today I was feeling dangerous and took out the finger paints. It started off great - cute hand prints- on paper. Then it turned into hand prints on the table. (still OK) Then she was curious about what would happen if she turned over the plate- with the paint on it -and smear it all over the table. I can tell you what will/did happen. I snapped*- then SHE decided she didn't want to do this anymore. (Yeah- good- fine with me!) Wait- that was way too easy. Where is the part where I feel like I am the one being punished? Wait for it. Here it is: She refused to wash her hands! Off she went into the living room. I tried to tell her how toxic the non-toxic paint was and how it would make her belly ache if she didn't wash it off immediately. "I do it - by myself." (fine- great- go) I started the water for her- she shut the bathroom door. "By MYSELF!" (Ahhhhhh- fine) Not even 5 seconds later- she comes out and heads to the family room. (there is no way those hands are clean) Sure enough- they were not clean- and now they were not just covered in paint- they were covered in soap. All the way up to her forearms. This time I was going to make sure she washed them. One problem- she wouldn't get up off the floor. I tried to pick her up but spaghetti legs were in affect. Now my shirt was covered in paint. (on the plus side- at least the soap mixture made it more washable) After a major struggle* in the bathroom- it was time for timeout. "I don't like you so much anymore!" "I want Daddy!" "You suffleufagus!" (that is one of her major insults) She means business when she uses that one. Behind the gate she went. (it is in our upstairs hallway) After about 10 minutes of me time- oops I mean - her timeout- I went upstairs to check on her. "I'm sorry, Mama- I love you- Eww- change your shirt- you got paint on it."

*no one was harmed during this activity. ( I can't promise I didn't think about it)

A Special thanks...

A special THANK YOU goes out to my "Queen of Blogging" aka americasnexttopmommy. She is the reason why I started this. (So blame her if my blogs are far from interesting)
You are one- Sassy Mama! I hope I don't let you down.

If you think my house is cluttered...

I tried to tell my husband- if you think our house is cluttered- you should see my mind! WARNING: my blogs will be be nothing less than confusing. You may need to read them more than once to figure out what the hell I am trying to say. You may also find yourself saying- "Damn- I just wasted 10 minutes of my life reading this crap!"

I think this blogging thing is going to be good for me. I think it will be good for my relationships with other people. I love to share my wit/ideas right when they occur. I will call my list of loved ones until someone answers. Now -I can share it with all of you- or at least feel like I have a huge following who love reading into my mind.

I have 1,543 thoughts running through my head at all times. (some people call them "thoughts" - while some mental health professionals may call them "voices") And I have found that most of those thoughts/brilliant ideas are only interesting to me. If I use this site as my outlet- then my friends and family won't have to listen to ALL my ideas. That's the point of blogging- isn't it? It is for people with way too much to say- and not enough people around them who care to listen.
I like to think of myself as a book of useless knowledge at times. I find that I can put forth to almost any story. "Oh wow- I knew someone who also had a birthmark on his butt that looked like Dane Cook ..." Or "do you know that if you are allergic to latex- there is a good chance you are allergic to bananas." (the second statement is actually true) I have a million more - just like those to share. Stay tuned.

Well- I have said enough- for now. Scooby Doo is over and my kids have been neglected long enough. Thank you for listening and I look forward to your comments - unless they are rude.