Seemed like a good idea

Today has been one of those days full of good ideas. Unfortunately for me, karma had other thoughts. I started the day with a wardrobe issue. I, of course, did not realize it was an issue until it was too late. My pants would not remain in the closed and locked position. Luckily I recognized this early on and was wearing a long sweater.

I had to return some jeans that were purchased for me but a me that is ten pounds lighter. I have been running crazy all week but had a minimal amount of time to run in, exchange these pants for some pants that fit AND hid my underwear. As I was rummaging through I saw them. They were beautiful. There was one pair and it was in my size. I knew these jeans would fit because I have been trying them on in different stores for months now. I put them on and promise myself that when I lose some weight I will treat myself to a pair of fancy jeans. But here they were. I could not find a tag. I brought them to the counter and the saleswoman said,"We don't carry these in the store, so I think they are pretty close to this other brand, so I will just charge you for those." WHAT?!?!?!? I just bought a $160 pair of jeans for the same price as Guess acid wash juniors size clearance rack jeans. I started to breathe heavily. This was really happening. I just saved $130!!! She sold me a $160 pair of jeans for $30. I felt like I was stealing somehow.

I hurried through the checkout process before someone caught on that this woman just gave away a pair of jeans. I found the bathroom and put them on. OOOOO GIRL!! These were NOT the jeans I had tried on before. These were skinny jeans that are tight at the ankle. I am not a skinny girl with small ankles. Especially today. I looked at my watch and realized that in all my excitement I had lost track of time. I had twenty minutes to drive 25 miles. I had to go. I put on my high heeled shoes and walked out. Not having seen myself in a full length mirror I did not realize that I looked like a hooker. BUT, I looked like a hooker. Luckily, since I looked like a hooker, I ran into one of students. She wanted to sit and chit chat with her professor who looked like a hooker.

I passed a full length mirror on the way out to the parking garage. I looked like a hooker. I could NOT go to a meeting with hooker pants on but I also did not have time to go back to the bathroom to change. I ran to my car and drove to a deserted section of the parking lot to change my pants. Just as I am getting stuck in my hooker hot pants, I spot the elderly security guard making his rounds. PLEASE LORD PLEASE LORD PLEASE LORD. I picked up my cell phone and pretended to talk. He looked at me and walked by.

All flustered and aggravated I get to my appointment only to discover that I missed the call informing me that the meeting 25 miles away was cancelled. WHY LORD WHY?!?! I would have gotten the message if I had never tried to get those hooker pants. My cell phone was in the other pants. When I was changing in the parking garage, I slipped my cell phone into my purse without checking it. In order to console myself I stopped to get a coffee at the gas station. Nothing makes me feel better than gas station coffee. I hate that fancy coffee. I pour myself scorching hot coffee and go to add sugar and drop the sugar packets in the coffee. DANG IT!! I think of the germs that are on those packets. As I think about germs, the empty packets sink to the bottom of the cup. It is at that point I stick my finger in the coffee to retrieve the sugar packet. First of all, that is gross to put your fingers in your beverage and secondly HOLY CRAP THAT IS FRIGGIN HOT AND NOW I HAVE BURNED MY FINGER UP TO THE KNUCKLE!!!

It is really difficult to play off in a crowded convenience store that not only are you a freak who has dropped sugar packets in your coffee but you are a bigger freak for SHRIEKING when you burn yourself with that coffee. Luckily a lot of those customers had mullets.

I can blame it on the cold medicine or the long weeks I have had, but sometimes I think that maybe I am just a jackass.

Hair

It's that time again...the painfully uneventful haircut. I always want to some kind of miracle to happen to me when I go to the stylist, like on "What Not to Wear" makeover shows. Instead, I go in with short hair and I come out with short hair. I talked to the stylist about growing my hair out again and what I thought I was hoping for as the end result. He wrinkled his nose and said, "Why would you want to look like that? Everyone woman your age has that hair." I think to myself, "How old do you think I am" and "I don't look different now with this mushroom head thing going on? Given my druthers I 'd rather look like everyone else". Of course, I say nothing. He intimidates me with his tattoos and his cool hair. I shrug my shoulders and say, "whatever you think".

Well, apparently what he thinks is that I should not try to look like women my age rather I should look like a member of the Jonas Brothers. He is describing the hairstyle and I wrinkle my nose and say, "As long as it is not too masculine." "No, no, no of course not." He walks over to the book rack and pulls out his portfolio, thumbs through it and finds the exact hair cut he is thinking about. "This will look fabulous on you." I look at the picture, look at him, look back at the picture, look at my boobs, and say, "You know that is a picture of a guy?" "Yes, yes, yes, just picture him with your face." Granted he did have a feminine face. I looked at the photo, glanced up at him and reminded him that I was in fact a woman. He snaps the book shut almost taking off my fingers.

As not to upset the ARTIST, I let him have his way with me. After a half an hour in the chair and $55 dollars later, I look that same as when I came in.

Cougar

I went to see Chuck Berry last night. It was the first time in about 8 years that I went to a smokey bar with the intent on watching the band. I was not enthused about this evening but agreed to attend. It was crowded and smokey (which is difficult for a once again recovering nicotine addict, which is how I am referring to myself, looking for the whole sympathy angle) and filled with very young college students (who have no sense of personal space) and creepy old men. Considering that Chuck Berry is a creepy old man I was not terribly surprised that his following had a similar background.

Anyway, I sipped on my beer making polite conversation with J.'s colleagues when the opening band came on stage. I was a little irritated that there was an opening band but I was willing to give them a chance. It was then that I felt my age. I have never been older than a band I was watching. I have been the same age but never older and in this circumstance A LOT older. The lead singer was so cute. I have to refer to him that way or it is just creepy. Had I been his age I would have said he was something different but being at least 14 years older than he is, I have to say he is cute. I now understood why there were so many young women at this show. I would have followed this band around too. Not now, because that would be scary.

Finally, Chuck Berry took the stage. He was sparkly and old and forgot all the words to the songs, but he is 81 years old and still filling a room full of people at $30 a pop. I wish I could do that. Luckily for me I was standing next to a young man(big friggin dork) who was drinking heavily and attempting to romance a young woman (big friggin dork). Dork mating season was occurring right before my eyes and sometimes on my foot. On the other side was a creepy guy grinding on his equally creepy date. (Not sure how you grind to Chuck Berry, but I think Mary had a little lamb could have been playing and he would be doing the same thing). And finally from behind J. was the "WOO HOO" guy. I love this guy. It doesn't matter what is happening he is compelled to "WOOOOO HOOOOOOOO"! Usually it startles you because it is not at the socially appropriate time. It is as if he is overtaken and must expel this exclamation or he will explode. Then I start to wonder if it is a tic of some sort.

I gave it 45 minutes. When Chuck Berry referred to having sex, I had enough.

I'm back

I haven't been on in awhile due to the unforeseen addiction to Facebook. However, as most things with me I have now moved on. While enjoy reuniting with old friends and the such, it has become too much about them and not enough about me. I remember why I lost touch with people and have found all the people I think I am interested in re-connecting with. I am too narcissistic to focus on others for too long...

Anyways, so right now I am very whiney. I don't like today and am making everyone around me dislike having me in their day. As I stood in front of my closet today I had the urge to jelly leg and refuse to go to work. I thought about how kids do that when they don't want to get into the car seat. I could do that and refuse to get in the car. However, no one was home and I would just end up laying on the floor all day. So, I get dressed in clothes that I know are ugly. It is not that they are unflattering, they are ugly. I am wearing them anyway.

Now that I am work I wish I had chosen to lay on the floor. I am tired and crabby and just ate gross food. I knew it was going to be gross. I made a conscious decision to pay for and eat food that will most likely make me sick. Not the good kind of chili cheese fries sick, but the I probably just ate cat and human hair sick. Tonight I have to go out. I don't want to. J. got tickets to see Chuck Berry. It's a "historic" moment that happens once a month. He's old and he's a perv.

So, for those of you who asked me when I was going to start blogging again (two people), here it is, haven't you missed it?

OUCH!!

Indoor soccer started last night. I hemmed and hawwed about whether or not I would go. I decided at the last minute to go. I finally found all my gear and started to get dressed. Apparently I haven't exercised in awhile because my sports bra was too small and I didn't realize it til I got it on. DANG! I need to exercise. What is worse than a sports bra that doesn't fit is a sports bra that doesn't fit that also won't come off. I was stuck in my bra. This did not bode well for the night. Eventually I wriggled and pulled and got the dang thing off. Why don't they make those with hooks? Anyways!

I get to the soccer dome and see who is there. The butch, ass whoopin, bitch from last season is not there!!! HURRAY! I am already glad that I came. I have mentioned before that I am not much of a player. I fell numerous times, just running. So I devised a new strategy. I call it the "run right at someone and jump in the air while yelling" move. It worked every time. Except once. You have to modify it to the "run right at someone and jump in the air while yelling" only if that person is smaller or more timid than you are. I tried it on a fat lady and bounced right off her and landed on my butt. She was like a marshmellow brick wall. She got game!

So I am really sore today. Everyone said that I should feel good that I got a good workout and my muscles need it and blah, blah blah. Mostly I just feel like I ran into a marshmellow wall.

The Art of Napping

I do not do a lot of things well and I accept that. However, when it comes to napping I am hard to beat. I thought about napping a lot this week as I was very tired. I came to realize that there are various forms of naps and you have to know which on you have time to participate in at any given time or place.

Here is my list of favorites in order of appreciation:
1. The hard core nap: This nap is almost like a night's sleep. It usually follows a late night/early morning error in judgment. In order to take this nap, you must prepare. This is a nap that is at least two hours in length with no interruptions. This is a nap that cannot be taken on a couch or in a chair. This is the nap that returns you to bed. This nap requires no children or spouses or phone calls to interrupt. It is a quiet house nap. This nap also requires the removal of all earrings, belts and often a return to nighttime sleeping garb. This is the nap that you look forward to the minute you wake up in the morning and plan for til it happens. This is also the nap most likely to be thwarted by unforeseen circumstances that will irritate the hopeful sleeper. That insensitive bastard will ask, "What else were you going to do today?" and the napper will respond, "I was going to take a nap." This nap is the most difficult to come by so when you get the opportunity, you must seize it for you know not when it will come your way again.

2. The couch nap: This is similar to the hard core nap in the napper's anticipation. However, the time is limited and a full hard core nap may not be available. This is the time that children are sleeping or your spouse has take the kids out to run errands. This could be about an hour and a half nap if you go to sleep as soon as you hear the door close. This nap requires the removal of shoes and possibly belts and the acquisition of the"couch blanket". The problem with this nap is that as soon as the house is quiet you are trying to will yourself to sleep to maximize what time you have left. The clock becomes you enemy. Sometimes this pressure is too much for the novice napper.

3. The "resting your eyes" nap: This is usually on the couch or in a chair, where there are people still in the house. You have set the kids up with a movie or you have about 30 minutes before you have to be somewhere. You may set an alarm to ensure you get up. This nap requires that you remain in your uncomfortable clothes, with the exception of shoes. You lay in an unnatural position and are somewhat alert to sounds around you. There should be no snoring in this nap. You want to make yourself just uncomfortable enough that you don't mistakenly slip into a full couch nap. This nap may also happen when you are too tired to go to bed while watching TV or a movie. You may end up sleeping on the couch that night. This nap must be used with the utmost care as to not miss engagements or your children sneaking Halloween candy.

4. Finally, the 5 minute power nap: This often occurs in the car on a road trip, airplane or at your desk at work. The head bob, your head sliding off your fist or the startle of someone walking by are the indications that you have fallen asleep. You don't realize that you have fallen asleep and are usually embarrassed when you awaken. The result of this nap is usually embarrassment, drool, stiff neck and an arm that has fallen asleep. Though often necessary this is my least favorite of the naps.

My belief is that naps are good for the most part. The only time you need to be careful and begin to wish you hadn't taken a nap is when you planned for one nap and got another. You also need to be mindful of the time in which the nap occurs. The after dinner nap is a dangerous one because it can lead to a late bedtime and the need for a nap the next day. Only experienced nappers should try the after dinner nap. I always suggest the 1:00 nap. It's after lunch but long enough before bed that you can usually work in a "rest your eyes" nap that won't impact your nighttime routine. Also be aware that even after a 5 minute nap that your breath will smell like you have been sleeping for three day. Butt mouth can occur in minutes....

Finally, I warn you of those people in your life who don't nap. They don't know how to nap, they don't appreciate naps and they think naps are a waste of time. They are jealous people. They are manipulative people and they are people who will look for mundane tasks for you to do instead of napping. They are vindictive and complain that you are "lazy". Please know that you are simply more evolved. Avoid these people, they cannot be trusted.
On that note...happy napping.

Oooo that smell

I had a site visit this morning at a local drop in center for people with mental illness. It has been a few years since I have worked with this population especially in this scenario. As I am walking through the door I am quickly reminded of how this population smells. SMACK right in the nose! It is nothing that can be detailed in words but I will do my best. Think a week or month without showering, mix a dash of foot and just a splash of ass and alcohol and you may just have it. WHOOOOO! It doesn't smell as much as it burns your eyes!

Anyhoo, I make my way through the smell and enter the clubhouse where I am greeted by random people who want to shake my hand and give me a hug (I gracefully declined these offers). I don't know these folks but they sure want to know me. I can see it in their faces, FRESH MEAT!!! I enter my meeting which is interrupted various times by people needing to say hello.

As I am leaving, I meet up with my friend Jenny who works there for a quick break. She looks tired but says she is doing fine. Not two minutes into our conversation she is approached by a client that I assume she knows well. He is asking for a loan. She rolls her eyes and sends him in to let other people deal with it. Smart lady. I miss this. I think that I need this in my life again. The chaos, the funny stories, the client contact. I miss it. All I get are eating disorders and failing grades and my one stalker. That's no fun. What was the most interesting change was that when I got in the car I reached for my antibacterial handi-wipes that were once a staple of my existence. I had none. What has my life become?

Grand Theft Auto

So far this school year, C. has been making real strides to be a good boy. I started to brag. I got cocky. I felt like we had finally made it over the hump. WELP, I spoke too soon.

About a week ago as I was going through C.'s backpack I found a handful of Hot Wheels. I jumped his butt about bringing cars to school. I took them out and threw them into the pile of cars. I didn't think anymore about it. Until Thursday. The teacher approached me as I was dropping him off and said that there was a rumor that C. had "borrowed" (early childhood teacher speak for STOLE) some cars from school and did I know anything about it. I said no and turned to C. and asked him. He looked me dead in the face and said, "No Mom. I don't know anything about that." My heart so wanted to believe him. He wouldn't lie to me. He wouldn't. BUT my head said...he took them and now he's lying to me that little sneak.

Of course in the background, C's best friend (the snitch) yells to me, "HE IS LYING HE STOLE THEM!!" But looking at that little face and not wanting to believe that he would do it, I walked away and assured the teacher I would investigate.

Once home, I asked him again. "No Mom" was the answer. So, I tricked him. I used the tricks I learned from watching NYPD Blue. I got in his kitchen. I told him I needed to go look in his room for the contraband. "No Mom. The door is locked." We, of course have no locks on the door. Because we have 3,000 Hot Wheels and they all look the same to me, I got A. to help me. She loves to rat on him. Finally he confessed and handed over the hot Hot Wheels. I WAS FURIOUS!! I sent him to his room as not to kill him. J. came home and handled it by taking some of his cars. "YOU ARE BREAKING MY HEART!!!" was all I heard from our little thief. GOOD!!

So far on his road to the state pen, we have practiced our escape, proclaiming innocence, buckling under interrogation and finally confessing. By the time he is legal he will be well practiced. Hopefully he will learn not to pick friends who snitch.