Remember when the hardest decision you’d have to face all day was what flavor Kool-Aid you wanted to have? It was an important choice, fueled by the fear that if you didn’t pick the right one it wouldn’t complement the taste of your Flintstone’s vitamins. I ate those like crack when I was a kid. When my mom wasn’t looking I’d crawl onto the counter and steal an entire handful and shove them into my grubby little mouth. She caught me once, and moved them to a place where I couldn’t reach no matter how hard I tried. That was the first time I remember wishing that fire would rain down on her. How dare she do such a thing! The nerve of that woman.
Yesterday Alex and I were having a lengthy conversation about Hot Pockets. I know… wtf, right? We talk about some random shit in my house. Hot Pockets aren’t exempt. When I was a kid, I thought Hot Pockets were the best invention. I even wrote a small report on them for school about their greatness. I thought that they were packaged in something that would, quite literally, keep them hot while they were in your pocket. Great for people who wanted a snack while they were in class or people who couldn’t take a break at work. I was amazed. What a genius idea.
So, I didn’t grow up wanting to be a ballerina or a veterinarian. I grew up wanting to work for whoever made Hot Pockets. My parents wanted me to aim high. So I did.
I love the innocence of childhood. Luckily, I’m surrounded by young nieces and nephews to remind me how great life is when you’re young. Actually, I’m going to leave y’all with a joke my 4-year-old niece told me last weekend that had her rolling around in laughter.
A hippo put on a purple coat.
…….. I wish I was as funny as her.
Also, Happy (late) Mother’s Day to all the Mom’s that read here. Y’all are strong, kickass women. I raise my invisible morning mimosa to you!
I’m not sure if it’s allergies. the weather changing, or something a bit more sinister, but lately I’ve had such a bad migraine I wonder if I’m moments away from my brain exploding and decorating the walls of my home. Which I imagine would be quite painful and life-ending, but who knows, I could be the originator of the next great home design trend. Not that I want other people’s brains to end up on their walls – but maybe red paint thrown against the wall like blood spatter will be the next big thing. That’s something to look forward to, right? Being a trendsetter? There’s always a silver lining if you search hard enough.
I’ve been meaning to pick up the frequency of my posts again this past week, but with family over for Easter and Satan plaguing me with the migraine from hell, I’ve been a bit distracted. I actually didn’t put it together until right now, but maybe there’s a connection. I think I’m being bitch-slapped by the devil on the holiest of holidays. I’m convinced.
Anyways… thanks to everyone for entering the giveaway to win a $20 Amazon gift card. It was fun to see all the yummy food everyone was craving, and exceedingly torturous at the same time for someone who eats a very strict diet. I asked for it, though!
The winner, who was drawn at random is…. zongrik ! The food she was craving at the time she commented was mango slices. Mmmm. Very summery and refreshing. I’d definitely go for that.
(zongrik – email me within a week at firstname.lastname@example.org, and I’ll send the gift card your way!)
Do any of you ever read funny Amazon reviews? They seriously kill me.
Reading the news always makes me feel a lot better about my life. Well, not the politics. I avoid that because I’m pretty sure if cancer was personified it would be 99% of the politicians roaming around Washington clinking their drinks together every time they make a terrible decision. It’s a big, toxic, suck-fest over there. I’m just talking about normal news – the type that highlights the embarrassing stupidity of the population. Like this picture:
I saw this picture last night, and, well… I had so many questions. How do you stab someone with a squirrel? With it’s buckteeth? It’s tiny claws? Did someone sharpen it? Was it rabid and she unleashed it from its cage of doom? I was happy to find out that it was just a ceramic squirrel and no real ones were hurt in the process. Even so, the guy had it coming – he forgot to buy her beer. Who the fuck does that? He forgot the beer? Crucial mistake. (Is it bad I was more concerned for the squirrel’s well-being than the man’s? I’m weird.)
Then there’s this one:
At first I thought ‘Wow! Who the fuck are these people? Dildo throwing? Trashy.’ I didn’t do this shit at my wedding! It was a classy affair. Except, the more that I think of it… I’m a little jealous. It seems pretty funny. That’s actually the type of shit I would enjoy. Flying dildos. How memorable would that be? There’s a few of my family members that could use a dildo or two to the face. I feel like I need to find a dildo, dip it in water, and throw it on someone as a prank now. Sounds traumatizing. I love it.
Happy Valentine’s Day, people. Just wanted to say on this overly-commercialized-greeting-card-company-holiday that I appreciate every single one of you. I hope you have a great day with your loved ones. If you are in a committed relationship – you should be telling your significant other you love and appreciate them every day, not just today. If you are single, just remember – you could be one of those assholes in the news articles up there. Single life ain’t so bad.
What are your plans for the day? Have you received/given any gifts for Valentine’s? I still haven’t bought anything for my husband. Pretty sure I’m just going to go to the gift wrapping section in Target and get some frilly bows to stick to my nipples. Shopping for men… so easy.
Random-As-Shit Thursday Thoughts
Long before I started this blog, I had a baking blog. SURPRISE! If I could do anything when I grow up (forget for a moment that I’m 30, married, and spend the majority of my nights knitting as I watch Golden Girls reruns like a crotchety old woman) besides writing, I would be a chef/baker. I’ve thought about revisiting the old blog a lot lately, but… I have a serious problem. What the hell do I do with all the shit I make? I can’t eat all that sugar. I don’t understand how people who are baking things three times a week at home avoid weighing 600 pounds? Where does it go? Who can I pawn stuff off to? WHAT DO I DO?
I’ve made a dire mistake. I offered my brother-in-law and his family of five to stay in our house for a few weeks. They are moving out of a rental house and buying one, but for some reason the bank has put a short delay on the loan process. I was in a good mood and trying to be extra kind for a change, but the second I got home the panic set in. What did I get myself into? As someone with pretty severe social anxiety, having five extra people in my house 24/7 is the stuff of nightmares. How am I going to avoid them without seeming rude? *Deep breath* 32 days left until we are invaded by messy children and hell rains down on the Sheep household. Pray for us.
I would rather have my nipples bit by ravenous mosquitoes than go to the gym, but I’ve been making a concentrated effort lately because I wanted to kick off February strong. Now, to preface this story, I have to let y’all know I have a severe bathroom phobia. When you throw in the ‘gym’ factor – where every ass that touches the seat is smelly and covered in sweat – it gets a thousand times worse. I had to pee so badly yesterday, but I thought it would be smarter to hold it. Well, that was until I got to the squat machine and peed myself a little. Yep, I peed myself. In public. Like a three-year-old who didn’t want to use the potty. For shame.
I like to think I’m a mature adult even though I’m 100% guilty of randomly losing my shit in laughter over things like farts and people falling down. What can I say? Sometimes it’s hard to keep your cool when farts sound like quacking ducks and when you get to witness first hand someone so engrossed in their phone that they trip over their own feet. I love to watch as their phone flies into a nearby puddle and everyone stops what they are doing and stares at them like they are their pathetic Aunt Judy who had too much to drink and wet herself on Thanksgiving last year. Everyone has a crazy family member like that. Judy never learns, does she? Damn it, Judy! For shame.
I’m the self-proclaimed queen of laughing at inappropriate times. It’s not immaturity, though, right? Maybe I just have a great sense of humor. That’s it. That’s what I’m going with.
In late June, Alex and I went on a road trip to Michigan to go to my cousin’s wedding. Honestly, I’m not close to my extended family. At all. We live far apart and I have more in common with my neighbor’s pet rabbit that eats it’s own poop than I have with the majority of them. They are nice people, though, and since we turned down the last two wedding invitations, we felt obligated to make an appearance this time. We crammed a lot of driving into a short period, and by the time the wedding ceremony rolled around… we were exhausted. I was well into the zone of being sorely overtired. When I get to that point- I have severe issues controlling myself. You know, when you’re so tired you would probably succumb to laughter even over something as lame as a popsicle-stick-joke. It’s tough for me. Really tough.
So, when the girl in the pew in front of us was audibly complaining to her mom about her tights making her underwear ride up her butt, I couldn’t help it. She was soon deep up there, digging a wedgie out for a solid minute. Fingers jammed up her butt as she danced around in place trying to get it free. I lost it. In the middle of a quiet church ceremony that was actually quite beautiful and romantic. The mood was ruined. Everyone turned and stared at me in abject horror. I could feel the death stares burning holes through my skin. It was awkward as hell. I grabbed my shit and got out of there while I still had a little self-respect left.
That was the day I came to the sad realization that I’m the Judy of my family. Not that I’ve wet myself on a holiday yet, but I’m only 29. There’s still time to accomplish that goal.
Silver lining – maybe I won’t be invited to any more weddings.
(Random note – 16 more days left until Fall! I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of it being so hot I can’t step outside without my nipples feeling like they are roasting off. Woo, hurry up, Fall!)
When I was 13 my mom came to pick me up from school with tissues corkscrewed in her nose and pajamas with pink bunnies plastered all over them. Her go-to method of punishment was always embarrassment. If I was going to call my teacher a bitch and my behavior was going to embarrass her, she was going to storm in freshly rolled out of bed and looking like a hot mess to embarrass me. And, believe me… it worked. Every. Damn. Time. One time I got suspended from school for drinking and she came to pick me up during the lunch period with Baby Got Back blasting from the car. Believe me, there’s nothing more embarrassing at the age of 17 than your mom rapping about big butts while she raises the roof in front of your entire school. Cringe.
My parents live on the complete opposite side of the country from us so we only see them one or two times a year. Honestly… it’s painful. Even though I live in the same town as Alex’s entire family and see his mom multiple times a week, nothing will ever be the same as MY mom and MY family. Yes, you can be 29 and married with a life of your own and still miss your mom. Don’t judge, guys. Didn’t your mother teach you that?
So, early Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms around these parts. I know there are a lot. Thanks for being strong kick-ass women. My respect for y’all runs deep.
(Yes, I’m posting my Mother’s Day post early because, let’s face it – everyone is going to post their’s on Sunday. This way you won’t be like ‘dear lord, another Mother’s Day post? Haven’t I read a million of these today already?’ BAM.)
(Also, I was a really good kid. These are literally the only two times I ever got in trouble at school.)
I’ve been plagued with the cold-from-hell for over a week and strung out on so much cold medicine I could barely comprehend some of the comments you guys left on my last post. So, I’m sorry if I responded with something that made no sense. It was the drugs. The drugs, I tell you! I’ve been MIA but I’m starting to catch up with everyone’s blogs tonight finally!
I don’t have the mental capacity to write today so I’m going to do something totally batshit crazy over here and respond to an award nomination I received. Sort of. I’m going to respond to Lady Dickson’s questions because she kicks ass but, instead of nominating people I’m just going to ask YOU guys a couple questions at the bottom so we can get to know each other a little better. We’re all friends here, right? Answer my damn questions then! (kidding, kidding.)
Lady Dickson’s questions for me:
- Where’s the farthest you’ve traveled from home? I don’t travel much so… the Caribbean? I’m boring. Someone come take me on vacation!
- If you could have witnessed any major historical event, which would you choose? Is it sad I can’t think of anything? Most historical things that come to mind are tragedies… I think I’ll stick with the present.
- What is your go to conversation starter? I don’t have one as I try not to start conversations! The woe of a socially awkward crazy lady.
- Why did you start a blog? To meet and connect with people while doing something I love (writing)
- What is your favourite and least favourite word? Slice/Mortified (Not sure why it’s my favorite, but I sure say it a lot !)
- Have you ever been stung by a bee? Five too many times
- Who is your favourite comedian? Nick Swordson (A totally random but totally hilarious guy)
- Which cartoon character is your spirit animal? Garfield.
- What movie have you walked out on/did you wish you walked out on? Anchorman. I walked out on it the first time I saw it. Then I watched it again at home a year later and loved it. Not sure what my deal was the first time around.
- How many cats is too many cats to own? Is this a joke? You can’t have too many cats…
Here are my questions for y’all:
- If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?
- Would you rather be forced to wear fish-scented deodorant all day, or pants made out of bologna?
- If you could punch somebody you know in the face right now, who would it be and why? (Someone you know! I know everybody wants to punch Trump already lol)
- Who is your favorite blogger and why? Share their link!
Answer some or all!
You know when you’re down on your luck, going through a terrible time, and all you want to do is drown yourself in a vat of melted chocolate? Then, you lean on your loved one for support and they say, “don’t worry, everything happens for a reason.” Really? Am I the only one who gets stabby over this saying? My dog got run over for a reason? How comforting.
Now, obviously people say this because they think they are helping, so I can’t fault them too much. I’m equally bad at comforting people. I never know what to say, so I just try to smile and offer to buy them pizza. “Oh, you lost your job? Does that mean you want your pizza with extra cheese then?” I’m terrible at it. Once my friend was crying because her boyfriend suddenly broke up with her and I tried to make it better by doing a dance for her. I even made up a song to go with it. It made her cry harder. Oops.
Be careful who you say ‘things happen to a reason’ to. Things are more personal than that. Things are more traumatic than that. There is no good reason for many things to happen – rape, cancer, infertility, child abuse/molestation, the list goes on.
(PS – Nothing traumatic is happening to me, and I don’t even own a dog. No worries, friends)
In 2014, I ghosted my best friend of 15 years. You know, totally fell of the face of the Earth and dropped all forms of contact with her. I’m not proud of it. There is no denying this is the coward’s way out. But sometime’s you’ve gotta gotta fight fire with fire when you’re dealing with toxic people, and in this case, fighting with fire means doing some totally cool and unnerdy magic tricks and making myself disappear. Abracadabra!
(Photo credit goes to littlebiddy. Go check out their blog!)
I was trying to end my friendship with her years ago… and then she got engaged to my brother. Awkward, right? It wasn’t worth it to put my entire family at war with each other, so I dealt with her. Even when she broke into my house. Then again when she stole money from me. I even shrugged it off when she told me she had a thing for my dad. (100% true. Sick, isn’t it?) When they called their engagement off, she told me, “It’s no big deal. I’m realizing now I didn’t care about being married to your brother, I just wanted to be part of your family so bad.” Her obsession with my family still gives me the heebie-jeebies.
Part of me wishes I went about it more maturely. Part of me wishes I was more outspoken about it. Part of me doesn’t regret it at all. This chick was toxic and brought out the worst in me. It was pure insanity.
Life is just too short for some of this bullshit.
Some people just shouldn’t be in your life, you know? Have you ever been ghosted? Ghosted someone? Had someone date your sibling or want to bang your dad? Cringe
(PS – The majority of people don’t deserve to be ghosted. People deserve closure. Unless they steal your shit and break into your house, do them a favor and just let them know why you don’t like them and honor them by telling them to piss off. Being up front always works.)
Saturday morning my niece thought it would be hilarious to pants me at our family brunch in the middle of talking to my father-in-law. Yep, there I was… standing, minding my own business and talking about how easy it was to make sloppy joes… and down came the pants. I wasn’t sure if I should be more embarrassed by the fact I hadn’t shaved above the knee in a few days, or that my underwear had cat whiskers on it. Either way – mortifying. You’re welcome for the show, Dad. Me-ow.
For some reason my nieces and nephews don’t look at me like I’m a 30-year-old adult, but rather a very large child. Which means any time they are around I’m usually limping around the house pretending to be a purple giraffe that got it’s leg run over by a rogue safari Jeep or something along those lines. It’s better than wine and cheese, really. It’s fun. It’s crazy. It’s a goddamn blessing. It saves me from a lot of awkwardly boring small talk. (Social anxiety’s mortal enemy.) Who the hell wants to spend family time talking about politics and car issues anyway? I’m good on that, thanks.
Pro-tip to my fellow adult-sized children: wear a belt. Nobody want’s to see your kitty’s whiskers.
Hope y’all have a good weekend and are successful in keeping your pants on. Unless, well, you know…
(PS- Sorry if you got the ‘new post’email twice. I posted it on accident yesterday when I wanted to post it today. Forgive me! I hate when people repost their same blogs over and over just to get more views, so I feel ya. It won’t happen again, folks)