Happy Monday!

Now that I have to be at work at 6! AM! on Mondays, I have to get up pretty early to get to work on time. Luckily though, because it's so early, I can leave a little bit later and still make it in to work on time.

I don't know WHY it seemed like such a good idea to be unable to sleep until 1 o'clock in the morning. But there it is. I figured that I could come home and nap it off, since getting to work early means leaving early.

And because I was so tired, I waited until the last possible minute to get up. In my case, 5AM. I will need to get out of the house by 5:30. MAX.

And because I put on make-up almost every morning, OF COURSE I WAS RUNNING LATE.

And because I was running late, and I'm not the kind of asshole who wakes up EVERYBODY in the house, just because I'm up, I got dressed in the dark.

And because I got dressed in the dark, this happened:

Would now be a good time to tell you that I have the EXACT SAME BOOT IN TWO DIFFERENT COLORS?

Thank God I keep an extra pair of shoes at work.

My fancy argyle tights y'all. I'm SUCH an adult.

Yeah, this Monday is shaping up to be a real winner.

File this under: Things I didn't know I had to tell people.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend talked me into going on a completely unplanned trip to Las Vegas with her because it was her birthday. She said she'd buy my plane ticket and rent the hotel room. What she DIDN'T say is that she had been seeing  a guy who just happens to live in Vegas, and that she was going to meet up with him once we hit town. Which...okay. I don't really have a problem with because you are allowed to do whatever you want with your twat as long as it doesn't affect me.

But let's just say that we all go back to the room to watch TV. And I fall asleep, because it's Vegas, I've been drinking and I'm hot and tired and slightly hungover from the previous night where I stupidly went out and SAID I was going to leave around 9 because I had an early day planned and then didn't leave until after midnight after having one tequila shot too many, and I wake up to SEX SOUNDS but since I'm in the room and you are FORTY-FUCKING-SOMETHING years old I KNOW this can't be happening, BUT IT IS. I AM REALLY LYING HERE PRETENDING TO BE SLEEPING WHILE YOU BANG THIS GUY IN THE BED not even 2 feet from my bed. So then I fall back asleep in self-defense before I spontaneously explode and/or completely go ape shit because I can't even believe this really happened.** I guess I didn't know this was something I need to say but, for the record:

I DON'T WANT TO BE PRESENT WHEN YOU HAVE SEX.

I leave in a huff because REALLY? Who does that? You call me. And after I tell you about yourself, I *still* have to tell you that this dude is not spending the night?

I guess we can agree that at this point, her cooch is interfering with my good time, yes? I am forced to stage an intervention, and remind the her thoughtless twat that SHE invited me to spend the weekend with her, to drink, gamble and lay by the pool. Not to listen to her get laid.

The rest of the weekend was not horrible. She ditched the dude after that, and the next day we went over to the Hard Rock to gamble and flirt with cute boys. I even managed to bring home my spending money. Although, I suspect it was only because they knew I would be returning the next week and knew that it would hurt more when they snatched it away on my next trip out. (Note: it did. OUCH)

Still though, I can never really have a BAD time in Vegas. But if figures that the one time it would have been totally awesome to have been so drunk that I have NO memory of the things that went on my weekend in Vegas, I remember EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL. Gah!



**Also, I would like to mention that porn with people that I don't know on a DVD that I can turn on/off when I want to see it? OK. Unrequested, spontaneous live-action porn starring friends? Not. OK. EVAR.

***AND, after the profuse apologizing, she bought us tickets to see The Lion King. A show I HIGHLY recommend you go see. For serious.

$&(#*&@(*@^!! <--That's me trying not to drop an F-bomb at work

This is MY desk.

On my desk, I have a bajillion paperclips, a shit ton of post-its, the Lakers 2009-10 schedule, random pictures (Yes, that is a question mark. I hold it over my head when I want to know WTF you are talking about) and pens. The pens that I don't mind losing because I am a pen freak and hide my favorite ones. And a plant, because my co-worker across the walkway is constantly staring at my computer screen. Gah!

I'll bet you're wondering why I'm here today talking about my desk. It's because the other day a co-worker was digging around in my drawers HE CLAIMS looking for keys. Keys, I might add are always HERE on the side of my desk in that basket thingy.

Another co-worker caught him at my desk while I was out shopping for lunch. To be fair, I thought I had locked my desk, and if I HAD this would have been a non-issue. But uhh...in the years that I've worked here the keys have always been THERE. (see previous picture). NOT here.

When I found out, I went from my shopping induced euphoria to fighting mad in less than six seconds. I hate, hate, HATE people digging around in places where they don't belong (Yes, I hate going to the OB/GYN. Why do you ask?). I went right over to his office to rip him a new asshole, but lucky for the both of us, he was probably wondering the halls looking for another desk to violate or maybe, you know.. working. Whatever. His being gone probably saved my job.

But when I DID run into him, and please believe that I made it a point to do exactly that, I explained that it has been my understanding that the keys have been kept in the hanging thing there on the side of my desk, where I've seen you get them many times over the years...if not forever, for at least for the THREE FUCKING YEARS that I've been here. And you, "sir"...have never, not once found keys in my drawers.

Also? Rifling through my desk without permission is the same thing as digging through my purse. Which... I'm *sure* you would never do, right? Riiight.

So lets make a deal. If you don't see something on my desk, just wait for me to come back and ask me. And I never have almost cuss you out at work again*. KTHXBAI. (jackass)

/rant

*That's me. Keeping it professional while I'm tearing you a new one.

No More Talking

I haven't been able to write.

Because I've been TALKING. Talking, talking, TALKING. I don't think I've ever spent so much time talking. Because I was mad. Beyond mad, actually. Pissed off to the highest of pisstivity, if you will.


I went out for a friend's Big Birthday Bash. Where after a somewhat cursory hello, she and a couple of friends proceeded to ignore me. Since I am a) slightly oblivious and b) sure I've done nothing wrong, I disregard the feeling that I'm being iced out. Because that's just crazy and I'm being ridiculous. Also? I pulled one of the "friends" aside to ask if there was a problem, and she said NO. The Birthday Girl's husband, with whom I'd had a falling out came, and promptly bought me a shot. While The BG's husband & I are not BFF's... I almost never turn down a free drink, I know he's trying to make nice AND he's The Man's BFF, so I accept it.



The Birthday Girl's friend stops ignoring me long enough to ask if I'm putting in on bottle service. Which I'm not. Unfortunately, I couldn't stay very long because I didn't drive myself, but also because the feeling of not being wanted there persisted.


As my ride & I were leaving, I finally gave in to my paranoia and asked her "WTF?" Her response, "I KNOW." So, apparently I was not only *not* crazy...I wasn't even alone in the feeling of hostility being directed and her & me. AND I completely missed the request to hold the bottle service until we left conversation being held while I was having my inner monologue... As the pieces started falling in place: the hints about being ready to drink, the way they completely separated us from their conversation, getting the stink eye from the BG's friend, the madder I got.


I decided that I DIDN'T want to talk about it anymore. Not with the Birthday Girl, not with anybody. But then she started calling me, which I ignored because I was too mad for any conversation I had to be constructive. So then she e-mailed me. NOT to apologize, or discuss the weekend...she e-mailed me to pretend like nothing was wrong. And THAT? Made my head explode. At which point, I wielded the truth like a baseball bat and bashed her over the head with it. I don't LOVE confrontation (hard to believe, I know), and yet... I felt like I had to point out some things that she neglected to say to me ON TOP OF she and her friends acting like a big giant assholes at her Birthday Bash.

Which led to some back & forth conversations that only led to no conversations at all. Normally, I'd feel bad about that. In fact, I felt bad enough about it to talk to the BG's husband, because I didn't want him to think that HE was the reason for the conflict. And in talking to him, I realized that she'd done more than just ignore me, she'd made specific requests on how HE was to treat me as well. And I didn't like that at all. Not because I expected differential treatment, but because it said so much about how she felt about me that she'd even make the request.

I have been MORE than a good friend to her, and I've known her a really long time. She is not a person who shies away from making her opinions or feelings known and there is nothing she loves more than confrontation, so I have no idea why she chose to make her displeasure known with me this way. I DO know, that *this* is not how you treat friends, and so at this point, I choose not to call her friend.

I've said everything that I have ever wanted to say about this. And I've said plenty. I've bent my friends' ears off with lots of "Can you believe this shit!?!'s" and "WHO does that?!'s" with a few "WTF?!'s" thrown in for good measure.


My anger has burned off leaving lots of Tired and Indifference in it's wake. No burning need to demand an explanation, no curiosity as to how she's dealing with this on her side...just nothing.

And so, I am dismissing this whole incident, and her, with silence. I do not want an apology, or to hear her side (again), nor am I interested in reparations for the sake of a preserving a decade-long friendship.

It seems like I should be a lot sadder than I am about this, but it is what it is.

I don't want to talk to you; I don't have anything to say.

WTF Wednesdays

A real conversation I had with my son & his girlfriend:

The Boy: Mommy! What happened to your foot?

Me: I went to the Green Day concert last night and some jackass kicked me in the back of my (just barely recovered from surgery) foot.

The Girlfriend: Did you at least punch him in the face?

Me: ....Yes.

Or maybe it's just me?

I’m SO glad I don’t have babies anymore. My youngest is 13, now, when I watch a show with her it’s to make sure that it’s age appropriate AND not porn. Which means in her case, I watch Degrassi, iCarly, and Total Drama Island (which I think is hysterically funny). When she was younger I watched TV with her to make sure she didn’t color on the walls or choke on a cheerio. Not really a hardship still: Teletubbies, Animaniacs and Sesame Street (do kids still watch that?). I mean, sure the Teletubbies were a little strange (a MAGIC BAG people, like Felix the Cat, Tinky Winky had a magic bag) but still. Ultimately not horrifying.

Fast forward to Tuesday. The Brat was watching her 5 year old & 1 ½ year old cousins. First, it should be mentioned that The Brat does not like kids. Not even the ones she’s related to. She has frequently put the crazy one (Niece #1) out of her room when she comes over and follows her around inundating her with questions with a hysterical case of hero worship. My mom called me to find out how close I was to home because she left her grandbabies with The Brat and she had no idea how long it would be before she snapped. I was less than 5 minutes away.

Imagine my surprise when I walked in and the girls were NOT crying. In fact, The Brat was dancing around with the mean one (Niece #2), while the crazy one sang and played with my hula hoop (YES, I have a hula hoop...what?). I peeked in on them on my way to get some water. Then I came back because of the song. Me: WHAT is this? The Brat: it's Yo Gabba Gabba. Me:..? And then the main characters came on. Ummm...can anybody see that?

No, NOT the weird dude in the hat (although WTF…?) Riiiight next to him.

I kept watching and all I could think of was:

I’m pretty sure that I wasn’t supposed to be thinking of vibrators while watching this kiddie show. But can you blame me?

WTF Wednesdays

I have a LOT going on. Really. So instead of trying to format it into a bunch of different posts, I’m just going to verbally vomit it all RIGHT here:

There's a guy in my Speech class, who, so far, has had a black eye for every speech he's given. WTH is THAT all about?

Every time I see a clip of a concert in my Music Appreciation class, I want to applaud. EVERY.TIME.

My instructor for Speech was in a ballooning accident in Turkey. (Yeah, WTF?!) So for the FIRST 3 weeks of class we had some random teacher and Monday we got the instructor we're going to have for the LAST 3 weeks of class. He's gorgeous. Now, the most shy girl in the class...is going ALL out to get his attention. Not working though. I have a feeling the instructor doesn't want to get arrested on statutory rape charges (the girl is like 16...REALLY).

I have NO idea why I think this is so funny:

Thanks Tira. You suck. You know you do.

Instead of buying my nephew a gift, I made him a cake. (He loves his Uncle, and his uncle looooves the Marine Corps)

Sometimes, I even impress myself.

I took my daughter to see the midnight showing of Harry Potter. We sat in the chair the same way, the screamed at the same times and we found the same things hilariously funny. We also had the same random thought. I don't spend enough time with her. That's going to change.

I ran into my old boss while I was walking around campus. He said he recognized me or rather... he said, "I'd know that ass anywhere"

The Boy, who taught himself to play the guitar is performing in a "Battle of The Bands". I am equally impressed and horrified. (THIS one deserves it's own post. It's coming.)

I am sleepy. Once I get some solid sleep (and come back from my mini-vacation - NO, I still don't have a camera BUT I replaced the battery on my phone, so be prepared for drunken twitpicking and twittering), I will be ready to post something that doesn't resemble brain stew. Until then....Please to enjoy.

I can't afford it

Ticket scalpers, ticket scalpers
Why are you so mean?
You take $50 tickets
And price them so obscene

I just wanna see my favorite band
Sing my favorite songs
I don’t want triple-priced
Does that make me so wrong?

But no!
$100, $200 to $800 or more
I’d need a second job
Probably as the corner whore
(after all…they make pretty decent money and no taxes)

If you’d give real fans a chance
To buy some decent seats
Ticketmonster is bad enough
With crazy “convenience” fees

Do you have to get in on the action?
Selling out concerts super fast…
YOU jack the prices crazy high
While real fans take it up the ass

So F.U. ticket scalper
For the things you do
To keep the prices high
Now….do you have tickets for U2?

WTF Wednesday

I am not so full of myself that I think that everybody likes me. MOST people like me (must be the Libra in me), but there are some jerks people that don’t. All I ask from anybody is honesty. If you don’t like me, then don’t pretend. I’m perfectly okay with the polite “Good Morning”, and then ignoring me for the rest of the day. REALLY.

What I hate? People who pretend to like you, but then say fucked up things that make it clear they don’t. Example: I know my supervisor can’t stand my ass. LOL. The crazy part is, she doesn’t not like me because of something that I’VE done. She just can’t stand the fact that her boss, and the BIG boss love me. So, she spends her time trying to find something wrong. Whatev. I’m a good employee and she knows it.

Because I’m a good employee who is PROFESSIONAL, I speak when she speaks. I don’t have time for small talk with you because 1) I have a job to do, and it keeps me busy, and 2) I don’t feel the need to conversate with people who don’t like me. Occasionally though, I’ll shoot the shit if it looks like she’s not going to go away until I do.

Today, I had my new purse on my desk:

Cute right? On the way to Vegas, I stopped at the Coach outlet and they were having a massive sale. So massive, that I actually bought TWO bags, and still spend way under $150.

My supervisor: Oh, that’s a cute bag, where’d you get it? Blah, blah blah…Yeah. It’s a great purse. FOR SPRING.

Umm..I live in LA. There ARE no seasons here. It’s 98 degrees and it’s OCTOBER. It’s a great purse. Period. You really could have kept your snarky comment to yourself. Especially, since you came over here to me running your mouth, and I have never even pretended to be interested in anybody's opinion of whether or not I'm fashionable.

Next time you want to try to be the fashion police, be above reproach. Or I will be forced to point out that nobody looks good in high waisted pants. Not even you.