Saturday, October 31, 2009
br/>Jessica Alba - Hair With Bangsbr/>
br/>Jessica Alba - Hair With Bangsbr/>
br/>Jessica Alba - Hair With Bangsbr/>
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Festivus is early this year!
It's not even December, but it's already Festivus for the rest of us!
How else can I explain this Airing of Grievances? Get out the aluminum pole and limber up for the Feats of Strength, people, 'cause here it comes.
First of all, Gmail is spying on me.
Stop looking at me like that! I know it sounds paranoid, but Gmail is freaking me out lately. You know how they have those keyword generated ads along the right column of the page? I find them so intrusive, don't you? Just now, for instance, I was tapping out an email in which I called something or someone a pain in the neck. Next time I glanced over Gmail had helpfully suggested several cures for neck pain and a few chiropractors in and around my city. On occasion I've been known to pen a dirty email or ten (shut up) and you would not believe the smut Gmail slams me with during those instances. Buncha pervs! Gmail needs to mind their beeswax, I say.
My kid got sent home sick today. Again.
Yet he doesn't act sick at all. In fact, he's quite energetic and annoying. He doesn't lie around, glassy-eyed with fever, quietly sipping juice and calling me "Mother Dear," he bounces around touching everything and making constant, irritating, grate-on-your-nerves noise! He's not one of these kids who loses his appetite either; nope, he's asking me for things to eat every 5 minutes only to eat two bites of it and say he's full. For this, I keep missing work! Not that I'm missing it, but that's beside the point. I'm bored at home, simple as that.
I still don't know what I'm allergic to.
Sure, the rash is gone, and I'm reallyreallyreally glad about that. But why must my left eye keep swelling?! It's like all of the mystery whatever-it-was has all landed there in one eye. This morning I woke up feeling pretty darn good; after all, I was home with my kid all day yesterday and managed to sneak in a 2 hour nap while he played Wii! It wasn't until I glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror and saw that I resembled Rocky Balboa after going a few rounds with Apollo Creed that my spirits took a nosedive. Also, I think I'm developing some sort of dependency on Benedryl and Zyrtec.
On a related note, the Google image search results for "swollen eye" are terrifying.
Daycare centers suck.
There's this woman at the daycare whom we privately refer to as the Chicken Lady. She has yellow hair and bulgy, bloodshot eyes, she's skinny and has a prominent Adam's Apple and a beak-like nose. She clearly earned the nickname by virtue of her looks alone, but we'd never have started calling her that had she not also been a raging biotch as well. She's one of these drill Sargent types who takes no guff and has the children marching in little lines. Our oldest son toughed out a year under her reign last year for Kindergarten and we thought that would be the extent of it now that he goes to the public elementary school. As it turns out, he still has to deal with her in the after school program.
Lately she has been nitpicking every little thing the kid does and making a federal case out of it when my husband goes in to pick him up in the afternoons. Jim started to dread pick-ups because it was always something: D stood up before the bus came to a complete stop and angered the driver! D and his friends licked their hands and laughed about it! D and his little friend were talking about *gasp* their weiners! Sounds like typical 6 year-old-boy stuff, right? That's what we thought too! But no, everything is a huuuuuuge deal to the Chicken Lady.
Well, yesterday the shit hit the fan and she managed to anger my mild mannered professor/hey-man-it's-cool hippy of a husband so much that he actually yelled back at her. Yeah, The Jim yelled back! Definitely a first. So now we have to go have a conference with the owner of the daycare and the Chicken Lady, but the long & the short of it is that Jim told her to stop treating him like a child and she told him to stop blowing her off when she tells him all about what is "wrong" with our kid. Really productive. The good news is she kissed my ass thoroughly this morning, so now I get to be the sensible, reasonable parent in the equation instead of the one who is usually overly-sensitive to the fall-out caused by their banal little microcosmic existence.
So there they are, my grievances. You'd think I would feel better, but not so much. Maybe after the Feats of Strength? Come on, who's gonna try to pin me first? I'm all kinds of irritated right now, so I'm pretty sure I can take all y'all! ;)
How else can I explain this Airing of Grievances? Get out the aluminum pole and limber up for the Feats of Strength, people, 'cause here it comes.
First of all, Gmail is spying on me.
Stop looking at me like that! I know it sounds paranoid, but Gmail is freaking me out lately. You know how they have those keyword generated ads along the right column of the page? I find them so intrusive, don't you? Just now, for instance, I was tapping out an email in which I called something or someone a pain in the neck. Next time I glanced over Gmail had helpfully suggested several cures for neck pain and a few chiropractors in and around my city. On occasion I've been known to pen a dirty email or ten (shut up) and you would not believe the smut Gmail slams me with during those instances. Buncha pervs! Gmail needs to mind their beeswax, I say.
My kid got sent home sick today. Again.
Yet he doesn't act sick at all. In fact, he's quite energetic and annoying. He doesn't lie around, glassy-eyed with fever, quietly sipping juice and calling me "Mother Dear," he bounces around touching everything and making constant, irritating, grate-on-your-nerves noise! He's not one of these kids who loses his appetite either; nope, he's asking me for things to eat every 5 minutes only to eat two bites of it and say he's full. For this, I keep missing work! Not that I'm missing it, but that's beside the point. I'm bored at home, simple as that.
I still don't know what I'm allergic to.
Sure, the rash is gone, and I'm reallyreallyreally glad about that. But why must my left eye keep swelling?! It's like all of the mystery whatever-it-was has all landed there in one eye. This morning I woke up feeling pretty darn good; after all, I was home with my kid all day yesterday and managed to sneak in a 2 hour nap while he played Wii! It wasn't until I glanced at myself in the bathroom mirror and saw that I resembled Rocky Balboa after going a few rounds with Apollo Creed that my spirits took a nosedive. Also, I think I'm developing some sort of dependency on Benedryl and Zyrtec. On a related note, the Google image search results for "swollen eye" are terrifying.
Daycare centers suck.
There's this woman at the daycare whom we privately refer to as the Chicken Lady. She has yellow hair and bulgy, bloodshot eyes, she's skinny and has a prominent Adam's Apple and a beak-like nose. She clearly earned the nickname by virtue of her looks alone, but we'd never have started calling her that had she not also been a raging biotch as well. She's one of these drill Sargent types who takes no guff and has the children marching in little lines. Our oldest son toughed out a year under her reign last year for Kindergarten and we thought that would be the extent of it now that he goes to the public elementary school. As it turns out, he still has to deal with her in the after school program. Lately she has been nitpicking every little thing the kid does and making a federal case out of it when my husband goes in to pick him up in the afternoons. Jim started to dread pick-ups because it was always something: D stood up before the bus came to a complete stop and angered the driver! D and his friends licked their hands and laughed about it! D and his little friend were talking about *gasp* their weiners! Sounds like typical 6 year-old-boy stuff, right? That's what we thought too! But no, everything is a huuuuuuge deal to the Chicken Lady.
Well, yesterday the shit hit the fan and she managed to anger my mild mannered professor/hey-man-it's-cool hippy of a husband so much that he actually yelled back at her. Yeah, The Jim yelled back! Definitely a first. So now we have to go have a conference with the owner of the daycare and the Chicken Lady, but the long & the short of it is that Jim told her to stop treating him like a child and she told him to stop blowing her off when she tells him all about what is "wrong" with our kid. Really productive. The good news is she kissed my ass thoroughly this morning, so now I get to be the sensible, reasonable parent in the equation instead of the one who is usually overly-sensitive to the fall-out caused by their banal little microcosmic existence.
So there they are, my grievances. You'd think I would feel better, but not so much. Maybe after the Feats of Strength? Come on, who's gonna try to pin me first? I'm all kinds of irritated right now, so I'm pretty sure I can take all y'all! ;)
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Hey Kids
Just a little friendly reminder from your ol' pal Bev:
Drink in moderation, do drugs rarely if ever and never hard ones, and above all, sunblock, sunblock, sunblock!
What in fucking fuckerson has happened to Lindsay Lohan?! I know, I know, I've asked this question before. But lately every time I see her picture she looks like she just blew a homeless guy in an alley in exchange for a half-eaten ham sandwich and a ride home. Well, assuming homeless guys have cars, which I'm not exactly sure about. I guess it depends on the homeless guy.
Whatever, my point is that she looks like Tara Reid if Tara Reid had been deep fried in bacon grease and left baking in the Arizona desert for a several days. Heck, I'd even venture to say that Tara Reid never looked this bad in all her alcoholic stupor Franken-tit glory days! When you are being unfavorably compared to a washed-up "coulda-shoulda-been" like Tara, it's time make some tough life decisions, LiLo. And for god's sake, exfoliate & moisturize that shit!
She is only 23 years old. TWENTY-THREE. When I was 23 I did not have a single line on my face. Not one! I have photographic evidence to prove it, too!
Remember, just a few short years ago, Lindsay looked like this.
--------------->
Alrighty then, now that I've gotten my little PSA off my chest, let's get on wit' it, shall we? I know you're all DYING for an update on my rash, and who am I to leave you hanging? When last we saw our heroine (settle down, Lindsay, not that kind of heroin) she was moping and strung out on Benedryl. Well, this morning my rash had all but disappeared, but my left eye was swollen almost shut when I woke up. WOOHOO! So I popped some more antihistimines and went to see a doctor, and wouldn't ya know it? By the time I got there everything was gone. HAHAAHAHAHAHA! My life totally rules.
Needless to say, he didn't have much advice for me. I'm a mystery wrapped in a puzzle with a side dish of enigma. Delicious! The good news is that I've decided not to give a fuck anymore. If it happens again I'll just take the dang Benedryl or Zyrtec or whatever and wait for it to pass. Life's too short and I hatehatehate having something wrong with me, so I'm taking the Ostrich approach from now on. Denial, hurray!
Aside: While searching for that Ostrich image, I came across this little gem:
AAAAAAAACK! I know it's fake (right?!), but... wow. It is fake, right?
Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Okay dokey, I've confused you all enough for one day, I'm sure. I'm gonna go ahead and blame this entire post on the Benedryl. Well, and the Meth. Mmmm, delicious Meth.
Gotta go!
Drink in moderation, do drugs rarely if ever and never hard ones, and above all, sunblock, sunblock, sunblock!
What in fucking fuckerson has happened to Lindsay Lohan?! I know, I know, I've asked this question before. But lately every time I see her picture she looks like she just blew a homeless guy in an alley in exchange for a half-eaten ham sandwich and a ride home. Well, assuming homeless guys have cars, which I'm not exactly sure about. I guess it depends on the homeless guy.
Whatever, my point is that she looks like Tara Reid if Tara Reid had been deep fried in bacon grease and left baking in the Arizona desert for a several days. Heck, I'd even venture to say that Tara Reid never looked this bad in all her alcoholic stupor Franken-tit glory days! When you are being unfavorably compared to a washed-up "coulda-shoulda-been" like Tara, it's time make some tough life decisions, LiLo. And for god's sake, exfoliate & moisturize that shit!
She is only 23 years old. TWENTY-THREE. When I was 23 I did not have a single line on my face. Not one! I have photographic evidence to prove it, too! Remember, just a few short years ago, Lindsay looked like this.
--------------->
Alrighty then, now that I've gotten my little PSA off my chest, let's get on wit' it, shall we? I know you're all DYING for an update on my rash, and who am I to leave you hanging? When last we saw our heroine (settle down, Lindsay, not that kind of heroin) she was moping and strung out on Benedryl. Well, this morning my rash had all but disappeared, but my left eye was swollen almost shut when I woke up. WOOHOO! So I popped some more antihistimines and went to see a doctor, and wouldn't ya know it? By the time I got there everything was gone. HAHAAHAHAHAHA! My life totally rules.
Needless to say, he didn't have much advice for me. I'm a mystery wrapped in a puzzle with a side dish of enigma. Delicious! The good news is that I've decided not to give a fuck anymore. If it happens again I'll just take the dang Benedryl or Zyrtec or whatever and wait for it to pass. Life's too short and I hatehatehate having something wrong with me, so I'm taking the Ostrich approach from now on. Denial, hurray!Aside: While searching for that Ostrich image, I came across this little gem:
AAAAAAAACK! I know it's fake (right?!), but... wow. It is fake, right?
Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Okay dokey, I've confused you all enough for one day, I'm sure. I'm gonna go ahead and blame this entire post on the Benedryl. Well, and the Meth. Mmmm, delicious Meth.
Gotta go!
Monday, October 26, 2009
F-U Monday! A weekend wrap-job
Hey there. How are my lovely and charming bloggy buddies this morning? I hope you're all feeling sprightly and full of vim and vigor after your restful weekends.
I'm not especially happy today, in fact I'm pretty frakin' grumpy. I woke up with a rash on Sunday -- a big one. I have no idea what I did/ate/touched to earn myself an itchy red rash on my entire body, so that just adds to the fun! The bulk of it is better today but now my eye lids are swollen and the rash is on my face as well, so needless to say I'm feeling especially hot and sexy this morning. Oh, and Benedryl helps it a lot, but it makes me feel like my head is floating about 6" above my neck and I was literally dozing off at stop lights on my way to work this morning. Fan-fuckin-tastic, I say.
Let's see - in other news, I saw Paranormal Activity at the movies yesterday and it was pretty good. Not sure if it lives up to the hype, but I enjoyed it and was legitimately spooked throughout. It had a kind of slow-burn build-up and the ending made me (and the rest of the audience) yelp out loud, it was that good. I love that it was made with practically no money; they did a fantastic job with limited resources, and it was quite believable and felt real.
On Friday I had a blog post all typed out and ready to go when Blogger suddenly got her period and decided to be a ripping bitch and delete it. One second I was typing, the next my document was blank. Good times, right? So here's an abbreviated version of that post.
Time to clear off the photos from my cell phone! Behold the random and oftentimes sublime contents of my photo album:
My job totally blows, but at least my office park is pretty:
My kid got all kinds of creative the other night and created "Cardboard Darth Vader" out of the boxes we had on hand. Yes, those boxes previously contained diapers and beer. So?
I pride myself in noticing beauty in odd places, and this mud puddle just struck my fancy one day. Of course, I did my fair share of hallucinagens in college, so maybe that's why I thought it looked so cool. Don't judge me.
Nothing unites a family like a Facebook video of a man blowing his own eyebrows off while doing a science experiment.
My hair dresser used so many foils for my highlights that she couldn't fit them all into a plastic shower cap. This is Kara wrapping my head in Saran Wrap, because I am glamorous and mysterious!
My husband is quite the ball o' fire after 8 PM at night. I took this picture because the cat looked kind of perverted with his head down there, and oddly enough this is the last photo ever taken of our cat. Yep, the cat packed his bags and took off, leaving no forwarding address, soon after waking up in this compromising position. I'm all broken up about it, can't you tell? This is where the tears would be if I gave a shit.
That'll do for today. Thanks for listening to me bitch and moan about my Leprosy. Hopefully by tomorrow it will all be a painful and confusing memory for me!
I'm not especially happy today, in fact I'm pretty frakin' grumpy. I woke up with a rash on Sunday -- a big one. I have no idea what I did/ate/touched to earn myself an itchy red rash on my entire body, so that just adds to the fun! The bulk of it is better today but now my eye lids are swollen and the rash is on my face as well, so needless to say I'm feeling especially hot and sexy this morning. Oh, and Benedryl helps it a lot, but it makes me feel like my head is floating about 6" above my neck and I was literally dozing off at stop lights on my way to work this morning. Fan-fuckin-tastic, I say.
Let's see - in other news, I saw Paranormal Activity at the movies yesterday and it was pretty good. Not sure if it lives up to the hype, but I enjoyed it and was legitimately spooked throughout. It had a kind of slow-burn build-up and the ending made me (and the rest of the audience) yelp out loud, it was that good. I love that it was made with practically no money; they did a fantastic job with limited resources, and it was quite believable and felt real.
On Friday I had a blog post all typed out and ready to go when Blogger suddenly got her period and decided to be a ripping bitch and delete it. One second I was typing, the next my document was blank. Good times, right? So here's an abbreviated version of that post.
Time to clear off the photos from my cell phone! Behold the random and oftentimes sublime contents of my photo album:
My job totally blows, but at least my office park is pretty:
My kid got all kinds of creative the other night and created "Cardboard Darth Vader" out of the boxes we had on hand. Yes, those boxes previously contained diapers and beer. So?
I pride myself in noticing beauty in odd places, and this mud puddle just struck my fancy one day. Of course, I did my fair share of hallucinagens in college, so maybe that's why I thought it looked so cool. Don't judge me.
Nothing unites a family like a Facebook video of a man blowing his own eyebrows off while doing a science experiment.
My hair dresser used so many foils for my highlights that she couldn't fit them all into a plastic shower cap. This is Kara wrapping my head in Saran Wrap, because I am glamorous and mysterious!
My husband is quite the ball o' fire after 8 PM at night. I took this picture because the cat looked kind of perverted with his head down there, and oddly enough this is the last photo ever taken of our cat. Yep, the cat packed his bags and took off, leaving no forwarding address, soon after waking up in this compromising position. I'm all broken up about it, can't you tell? This is where the tears would be if I gave a shit.
That'll do for today. Thanks for listening to me bitch and moan about my Leprosy. Hopefully by tomorrow it will all be a painful and confusing memory for me!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Speaking of Playboy
I have a confession to make, but those of you who know me won't be shocked by it at all. You see, despite the fact that I routinely ridicule friends like Mala for watching all of those horrid VH-1 and MTV reality shows (Tool Academy & Rock of Love Bus? Really?) I have been watching E!'s The Girls Next Door since episode one. It started off innocently enough - I was home sick one weekday and bored out of my skull, so I started perusing Comcast's On Demand options and came across the whole first season. I turned it on because hey, I like attractive naked people as much as the next girl, and I was oddly fascinated with three women who were (allegedly) porking senior citizen Hugh Hefner.
I was hooked. After all, watching this frothy concoction of T+A is the ultimate escapism. Their lifestyle could not be further from my own reality on the spectrum of normalcy. For one thing, they share a man. I would be jealous if the man I loved had two other beautiful girlfriends, and the idea that we'd hang out like sisters in a sorority house simply boggles my mind. For another thing, their whole lives are spent lounging around wearing skimpy pink outfits, dressing up their little dogs, and attending swanky parties where everyone tells them how gorgeous they are and take their photos for the media.
Yeah, that doesn't happen to me. I don't even have a dog anymore, and when I did I certainly never dressed him up in costumes. Much.
For the record, my favorite Girl was always Bridget, who was the oldest of the bunch and seemed to be the smartest. Also, her looks just seem much more natural than the other two; she's a natural (albeit enhanced) blonde, has a very curvy figure (oh how I envy her teeny tiny waist), and I am not 100% sure, but I think her breasts are even real. Maybe. At any rate, they're spectacular.
Mostly I like her best because she is educated and reasonably intelligent, seemed to be there for the "right" reasons (i.e. she never had designs of making notorious bachelor HH settle down with her, seemed up-front about the fact that it was just too good a gig to pass up, etc.), and she was the peace-maker among the group. Bridget was the glue that held idiot Kendra and power-hungry Holly together.
Now the girls have all gone their separate ways and there's a new batch of bimbos inhabiting Hugh's love shack. I watched the first episode of the new season the other day while living my own glamorous life -- folding laundry in sweatpants while my kids begged for Fudgsicles -- and wasn't all that impressed with the new crop. For one thing, two of them are twins who apparently share a brain, and not a highly-functioning one at that. They do everything together, dress identically, and finish each other's sentences. I have absolutely no hope or desire to learn which one is Kristina and which one is Karissa.
The "new Holly" seems like a nice enough girl, but frankly... she bores me. Also, she looks exactly like the twins, so sometimes I can't tell who is who is who anymore. Would it kill Hugh to have a hot brunette girlfriend? Sheesh!
So, we'll see how the season goes. If I watch it, I'm not sure yet. I've never gone out of my way to watch it, I don't Tivo it or anything like that, but it's hard to miss it when you're flipping channels on the weekends. I used to feel like watching it was like popping a couple of Xanex and taking a little mental vacation, but the first episode just kind of irked me for some reason. We'll see.
Personally, I would like it better if Hugh had chosen a more substantive girlfriend. Maybe someone like November playmate Marge Simpson, for example?
Now that's what I'm talkin' about!
Anyway, there it is. Don't judge me; I'm way ahead of you on that one. ;)
I was hooked. After all, watching this frothy concoction of T+A is the ultimate escapism. Their lifestyle could not be further from my own reality on the spectrum of normalcy. For one thing, they share a man. I would be jealous if the man I loved had two other beautiful girlfriends, and the idea that we'd hang out like sisters in a sorority house simply boggles my mind. For another thing, their whole lives are spent lounging around wearing skimpy pink outfits, dressing up their little dogs, and attending swanky parties where everyone tells them how gorgeous they are and take their photos for the media. Yeah, that doesn't happen to me. I don't even have a dog anymore, and when I did I certainly never dressed him up in costumes. Much.
For the record, my favorite Girl was always Bridget, who was the oldest of the bunch and seemed to be the smartest. Also, her looks just seem much more natural than the other two; she's a natural (albeit enhanced) blonde, has a very curvy figure (oh how I envy her teeny tiny waist), and I am not 100% sure, but I think her breasts are even real. Maybe. At any rate, they're spectacular. Mostly I like her best because she is educated and reasonably intelligent, seemed to be there for the "right" reasons (i.e. she never had designs of making notorious bachelor HH settle down with her, seemed up-front about the fact that it was just too good a gig to pass up, etc.), and she was the peace-maker among the group. Bridget was the glue that held idiot Kendra and power-hungry Holly together.
Now the girls have all gone their separate ways and there's a new batch of bimbos inhabiting Hugh's love shack. I watched the first episode of the new season the other day while living my own glamorous life -- folding laundry in sweatpants while my kids begged for Fudgsicles -- and wasn't all that impressed with the new crop. For one thing, two of them are twins who apparently share a brain, and not a highly-functioning one at that. They do everything together, dress identically, and finish each other's sentences. I have absolutely no hope or desire to learn which one is Kristina and which one is Karissa.The "new Holly" seems like a nice enough girl, but frankly... she bores me. Also, she looks exactly like the twins, so sometimes I can't tell who is who is who anymore. Would it kill Hugh to have a hot brunette girlfriend? Sheesh!
So, we'll see how the season goes. If I watch it, I'm not sure yet. I've never gone out of my way to watch it, I don't Tivo it or anything like that, but it's hard to miss it when you're flipping channels on the weekends. I used to feel like watching it was like popping a couple of Xanex and taking a little mental vacation, but the first episode just kind of irked me for some reason. We'll see.
Personally, I would like it better if Hugh had chosen a more substantive girlfriend. Maybe someone like November playmate Marge Simpson, for example?
Now that's what I'm talkin' about!
Anyway, there it is. Don't judge me; I'm way ahead of you on that one. ;)
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