Daily Diatribes

As the year draws to a close, as we count down to those final minutes, many people will make resolutions for the New Year. They will promise themselves that this will be THE year to lose the weight, mend the fences, write the novel. During the first weeks of January, however, the champagne glow fades, real life sets in and people fall short of their goals. So around mid February, they kill themselves. Or they at least start spending more time on the couch watching Oprah, which is just a slower way to kill yourself.

I refuse to fall into the trap, so this year I am going to set achievable, realistic goals. They are the things that are going to inevitably happen anyways, not because I am a pessimist, but simply because I am a lazy cow, content to chew my cud and slog along through the verdant pastures of my suburban life (how’s THAT for imagery???) I am proud to share here with you, the faithful, my resolutions for 2010:

1. I am going to gain ten pounds. I’m already fat, so what’s another ten in the great scheme of things? I got on the Wii Fit this morning and my little bucktoothed woman moaned in despair. She actually started pulling out clumps of her hair. As a matter of fact, when I first stepped on the board the freakin’ thing went “OHHHHHHH”, as if a great weight had suddenly settled upon it. Which, coincidentally, it had. So….who am I fooling here? I’m not going to promise myself to lose ten pounds because it’s ridiculous. I’m going to GAIN ten and enjoy every single minute of it. Take that skinny ass bitches of the world!! You may be a size two, but I can order my cheesecake with EXTRA whipped cream!! I may actually need to adjust my resolution in case I achieve success too early in the year….

2. I am not going to be nicer to my family this year. Why should I be nice to them? What have they done for me lately? A few weeks ago, I had to go to work and Stalin had a day off. He has been spending his off days at our redneck lake compound, tending to the double wide. (did y’all know I own a double wide now??? I’m livin’ large here, and it’s not just my ass!!!) Anyway, to prepare for his day at the double wide, mucking around in the septic tank, he took a shower. And so did all the other members of the family. Me? I was running around picking up their crap off the floor so I wouldn’t have to to work all day and then come home to the same mess. So when the shower was finally free, was there ANY hot water left for me???? Was there even ONE SINGLE DROP of warm water left for the woman who was picking up everyone else’s dirty underwear while they savored their warm and steamy showers? I think not. So this year, I resolve not to treat those ungrateful heathens any better than I already do. Considering how well they’re treated, it’s really not saying much. I think I’ll go rent “Mommie Dearest” and refresh my memory of how a REAL WOMAN handles her family.

3. I am not going to stop mocking my neighbors. It’s just too much fun to talk about them. Nancy and I often say if people would just follow our sterling examples in all areas of their lives, the world would be a much better place. I will continue to mock the prima ballerinas and the intellectually gifted children who live on my street. My own children may be heading for careers in the food services industry (would you like fries with that?) but at least they are enjoying their childhoods. And we’ll get free french fries for life. Take THAT Olympic Gymnast!! I’ll take free french fries over free Wheaties any day of the week.

4. I am not going to even attempt to become more financially prudent. I have never understood financial prudence. Why on earth would I want to save money when there is so much fun stuff to spend it on? My husband made the colossal error of giving me a Kindle (e-reader) for Christmas and I have already purchased thirty dollars worth of books. It’s people like me that keep the economy healthy and people like you…..you SAVERS….that keep the man down. So I am going to spend, spend, spend and enjoy it tremendously!! I’ll spend a good portion of it on food to help achieve resolution number one!! Cheesecake Factory here I come!!

5. Do you REALLY think I am going to exercise more this year? Really?? What I like to do for exercise is put on a nice aerobics video, get a bowl of popcorn and a diet coke, and then watch Richard Simmons cavort around like an overbred poodle on speed. I enjoy watching the fat people sweat while I munch on my popcorn. In fact, the people Richard Simmons hires are so much fatter than me that I actually start to feel skinny. Which causes me to jump up and add some Little Debbie’s to my snack pile. I like to enjoy a well balanced snack and it’s important to have salty AND sweet.

6. I am not going to blog more. Hell, I can barely blog now as it is. Luckily the inspiration for this blog arrived as I was sitting on the potty this morning. Unfortunately, potty inspirations are few and far between, so I make no promises. If I resolve to blog less you will be all the more grateful when I post once or twice during the year. This is called REVERSE PSYCHOLOGY and it is very useful for manipulating readers.

7. In fact, I am not going to write the great American novel either. I could write the great American novel if I really wanted to, I just don’t feel like it, that’s all. If I wanted to write the great American novel, I would, I just don’t want to write now. But I could do it if I felt like it. Because I’m that way. Maybe I’ll feel like it next year. But not this year.

8. I’m certainly NOT going to resolve to volunteer more since I already volunteer far too much as it is. What else can I possibly run? I’ve already been in charge of just about everything possible except the PTO and there is no way I’m getting involved in that. The PTO is too much like the Mafia; those PTO types are scary! Get on the wrong side of a PTO member and you may just end up in the witness protection program with a new identity and new kneecaps. Those women are militant.

Alright, I was going to have ten resolutions, but I can’t think of any more. So I resolve to end this post before it gets any more ridiculous. See you in 2010!!

The producers of this blog are on strike, picketing for better working hours and more creative control. Actually, they aren’t on strike at all, they are simply comatose from ingesting large quantities of refined sugar in the form of Christmas cookies, cakes and pies. However, freed from the comatose state, they would be on strike, so it’s really the same thing. We are hoping to resolve the situation; in the meantime, feel free to read old blogs and remember the author at the height of her glory days, back before she got too busy to blog. We hope to have a new entry up before the end of the week. The author has many good ideas, including an entry on appetizers made of fish sticks and olives.
Thank You,The Management

T’is the season to be jolly and as usual, I feel like stuffing an elf down the toilet…after hot gluing his mouth shut. Christmas spirit is not one of my strong suits. But it does give me a lot to think about and I shall endeavor to set some of those thoughts down for you to enjoy….

Part 1: Christmas Miracles

1. With the aid of a twenty dollar part and a screwdriver, R2D2, the shiny vacuum cleaner, has been miraculously resurrected. Truly a Christmas miracle! The duct tape is gone!! The suction is working!! Stalin even picked up a supply of bags while he was at it!! Once again, I can suck up Polly Pockets, quarters and crescent wrenches with aplomb. To celebrate, I very carefully vacuumed the house today. I even stopped when something rattled around in the rollers ominously and I removed the chunk of ceramic instead of trying to force it up the hose. See…people CAN change!!

2. Not ONCE have I heard the song “Christmas Shoes” and we’re already 1/3 of the way through the season!! I know I am jinxing myself by saying that here, but it’s worth noting. I’ve said it before in this blog and I’ll say it again: If I am going to die on Christmas Eve, my children BETTER NOT be out wasting money on a stupid pair of shoes. Jesus could care less what’s on my feet!! I could care less what’s on my feet. If you were to observe me now, you would notice I am wearing MA’s hand me down Sperry Topsiders, whose fragrant odor strongly resembles that of the city dump in mid-July. Shoes are not one of my weaknesses. On my death bed, I would really prefer the children were out trying to score Cadbury Creme Eggs to force down my feeding tube. Screw the shoes, I want chocolate before I meet Jesus.

3. Our Christmas tree is up and decorated. I loathe putting up the tree. I hate Christmas trees. If it were up to me, I would put some lights on the fake ficus tree and be done with it. Why all the ornament drama? Who gives a crap about stringing cranberries and popcorn? I tried that once and it is seriously overrated. When I publish my first blockbuster bestseller, I’m hiring a gay man to decorate for Christmas….I mean to put up the decorations, not that I want to decorate a gay man for Christmas. Although that’s not a bad idea….

Tacky Christmas commercials
1. A December to Remember? This year’s pitch promises that if you buy a Lexus, you will spend quality time with your family. You can camp in the yard with them, play in the leaves and build snowmen. Apparently, since I own a Ford, I’m off the hook. I can continue to run my Mafia, surf the internet and ignore the little brats. Besides, it doesn’t snow here and there’s usually dog crap in our leaves. How is owning a Lexus going to fix that???

2. Every Kiss begins with K. And every blowjob begins with B, something that is much more likely to get you jewelry than a kiss. Besides, don’t give me some tacky, gold plated jewelry from a third rate jewelry store. Unless Stalin comes to the game with a Big Ass Diamond, one that will require hydraulic lifts to get my arm up, he needn’t bother. I’m easy, but I’m not cheap!!
And just why does the deaf girl get so excited when her boyfriend gives her that horrendously ugly bracelet? I’d throw it at him and give him the one finger sign. Jerk. Go to Tiffany’s next time.

3. And the Mercedes dealership in town is offering to make a $100 donation to a children’s charity if you buy a $75, 000 car. Wow, Mr. Scrooge, your generosity blows us away!!! Really…..a hundred bucks??? You get the luxury car and the orphans get another ten pound bag of rice?? I’ve got a better idea….buy an American car for $20,000 and give the difference to the charity. You get a new car AND a tax deduction! And the orphans all get new Nike Shocks for Christmas….it’s a win/win!

Christmas Cards
1. The holidays are upon us and the Christmas letter bragging has begun. “Molly scored a 36 on the ACT, organized a charity dental floss drive for the orphans in Somalia and just signed a modeling contract with Teen Vogue.” “Jim got a promotion and is now CEO of a Fortune Five Hundred Company”. I still prefer the truth: “Molly is turning into quite the teenage slut and has slept with the entire basketball team”. “Jim finished serving his prison term for insider trading and has found work as a greeter at Wal-Mart.” And the truth shall set you free.

2. Christmas cards come in three varieties. There’s the one with the whole family posed in front of the tree, smiling painfully. There’s the one of the whole family at the beach, dressed all in white, smiling painfully. And there’s the one of the whole family posed in a studio, smiling painfully. I think I’ll send out a Ninja card this year; the whole family, dressed in black, black scarves over their mouths, each wielding a throwing star, numchuks or a sword. HAVE A VERY NINJA CHRISTMAS!! Everyone will display my card prominently, pasting it over those fake beachy people in white. (I just googled Ninja Talk, looking for some good Ninja terms to throw in here; instead I discovered that apparently there is a huge cyber movement pitting talk like a pirate day against talk like a ninja day…who knew?)

Christmas Decorations
1. I just passed a house with about fifty light-up snowflakes hanging in the windows. Why? What does that have to do with the birth of our Saviour? At least my ten foot tall inflatable Santa/Rudolph combo is blatantly commercial. I’m not trying to pretend I am holier than thou, nor am I going to compete with the people who feel the need to string up 200 million lights, using enough electricity to power Yemen. I live in a sea of Fundamentalist Christians and none of them can remember that the Bible clearly stated there was only ONE STAR! Just ONE people!! Put the twinkly lights away, you’ve missed the point! Christmas….Bah!

2. I went to two different holiday concerts this week. I am SUCH a lucky girl!! Tuesday was the band concert, which I counted as my ninth holiday band concert. Thursday was the choir concert. If I hear Carol of the Bells one more time, I will hunt down Carol and mutilate her with toothpicks.

3. I had a FB conversation earlier with a Jewish friend concerning the superiority of Jewish holiday food. Everything for Channukah is fried. I like fried. I feel a conversion coming on; if I get Jewish, I don’t have to decorate for Christmas anymore! Whoever heard of an inflatable Menorah? Or a Channukah tree!! But the only thing I know about getting Jewish is the “Sex and the City” episode where Charlotte converted by getting naked and jumping in a pool. Let me tell you now, if the Jews saw me naked, they would cancel the conversion process immediately. I need to do some more research…

This appears to be the end of my holiday musings. I’m sure I could go on for hours about holiday tissues, holiday Saran Wrap, holiday toilet paper, holiday Glad Ware, holiday food, holiday….well, you get the picture. Tomorrow night I am hosting my first (soon to be annual!) Ugly Christmas Sweater Party. I am hoping to discover the true meaning of Christmas in the beads and baubles festooning the red and green synthetic fabrics. Or possibly, I will find it by swigging large quantities of spiked eggnog. Merry Christmas to all…..yadda yadda yadda!!

I just cleaned off my whole cyber-blog desk!! I had TONS of posts I have started and not finished!! My brain is so clogged up with meaningless education jargon that I cannot blog. This is the last week of classes, however, and I am hoping to blog a lot. Especially since I am taking four classes next semester and my brain will probably explode midway through!
Anyway, I decided to move all of the unfinished blog posts here and create one, big, meaningless blog that will make no sense whatsoever. I am hoping this mental enema will get me going again!! So here we go, into the oblivion of blithering idiocy….

This weekend is MA’s last soccer tournament of the year. We traveled to Atlanta for the privilege of playing in Arctic temperatures and gusting wind. I love my kid a lot.
We drove over here yesterday. I worked all day, rushed home and threw everything into the car. I wanted to get the drive over with because not only is there a soccer tournament in town, the SEC championship game just happens to be this weekend as well. So I was heading to Atlanta with about 75,000 of my closest friends. Surprisingly enough, we got here in good time; we passed an awful lot of Winnebagos from Florida, but other than that, it was an uneventful ride.
Still, we got in late and I was very ready to get into my hotel room and put on my jammies. Unfortunately, that was not in the cards for me. I checked in and handed the key to MA and she and her friends raced up the stairs to the room. I went to the elevator with the luggage cart. It took the elevator about a hundred years to arrive and it made an awful lot of racket when it came down. And I kept hearing voices.
Ok, so I occasionally hear voices and they occasionally tell me to do things like say “blowjob” in front of a bunch of teenage girls, just for the shock effect (that’s another blog). But these voices seemed to be coming from outside my body. I lurched around but no one was there. Actually, they were coming from the elevator. Turns out it was one of those creepy talking elevators for blind people. Let me state here that in their quest to service the blind, they are discriminating against those of us with mental illness who suffer from paranoid delusions that the elevator voices are speaking directly to them. I’m glad I was able to sort out the voices, though, before I had to go for another shock treatment.
I got upstairs and MA met me in the hallway. “Mom, I think they gave us the wrong room,” she said.
OH MY GOD, I though to myself, my child is SUCH AN IDIOT!! I pushed passed her saying “It’s the right room, dummy, because the door opened with the key they gave us….” and I trailed off because she is not an idiot at all. The beds in the room were unmade, there were dirty towels on the bathroom floor and an obviously used washcloth hanging up in the shower. In fact, it looked a lot like the room I had left at home, only I was paying for this room and it had someone else’s dirty towels in it. I turned around and marched back down to the desk. What I SHOULD HAVE SAID was “Somebody has been sleeping in my bed….and it wasn’t me!!!!!!” but that didn’t occur to me until later……….

I am going to force a blog here. It’s a lot like forcing a bowel movement and I will probably give mental hemmorrhoids, but I have got to write something here. I can’t lose what’s left of my readership or I won’t have anyone left to feel sorry for me. No one who actually knows me feels sorry for me, so I rely on the kindness of strangers to speak words of love and understanding to me. I think I spelled hemmorrhoid wrong; can someone look that up please?

My vacuum cleaner is dead. I just spent ten minutes trying to find the blog post about buying the vacuum cleaner to replace the vacuum cleaner I had killed. I wish I knew how to hyperlink to that post; I’m going to try it and see if it works. Because you have never known someone who can kill an appliance like me.

I think Stalin spent several hundred dollars on that vacuum cleaner. It was a really good one. It was shiny, looked like R2D2 and it picked up dirt like Joan Rivers. Less than two years in my possession and now it’s held together with a lot of duct tape and it makes weird noises. I don’t understand how I do it.

The vacuum cleaner before this one never even had a chance.  I wrote a delightful story about it.  Gina fixed it for me one time but nothing can withstand my abuse for long.
Somehow I killed it. And we got R2 who lasted two years. So the question becomes is there a vacuum cleaner out there that I can’t kill? I really, really think the answer is no. On the bright side, if you have no vacuum cleaner, you don’t have to vacuum. There’s always a silver lining…………….

You might be wondering how I have time to write this; I am in the computer lab at the university. I love to sit here and type because there’s always something going on in here. There are lots of fun and funky college students hanging around, looking cool. I try and emulate them, but it’s hard since I do not look cool. I am wearing my Grumpy sweatshirt today. Tuesday I made the mistake of wearing a Christmas shirt. As far as Christmas shirts go, it was fairly restrained. It was a long sleeved red shirt and it had three small Christmas tree appliques on it. I thought I looked festive, but my fun new college friends mocked me. Brats. And then Gina mocked me. Bitch. It’s not like it played music or had strings of lights, but they still mocked me. So today I am channeling Grumpy in hopes I will cow them into submission. Fear the Grumpy shirt; it’s a bad omen.

Apparently this post is going to have no cohesive theme which is fine by me.  I have spent an entire semester constructing things with cohesive themese and my brain is no longer capable of cohesion.  You know how your favorite sitcom will run out of good ideas so they do a flashback episode celebrating all the good ideas they’ve  had over the years?  Well this is going to be the flashback episode of my blog.  Now that I’ve figured out how to hyperlink (hooray for me!!!) I am going to refer you back to old posts to read.  This spares me the ordeal of writing a new post because I feel like I’ve really blogged about everything there is to blog about anyway.  Ok, I haven’t blogged about Tiger Woods, but everyone else is going to do that, so why should I bother.  Here is a post from Christmas past and I want you to know I still have that candleholder; it’s on the island in my kitchen

Alright, I think I have said enough. My brain is starting to feel hemmorrhoidish and a guy with a green and orange scarf just walked by and I have to stare at him now; is he out of the closet? Straight men don’t knot green and orange scarves around their necks; they use them to carry beer with!!!

What a wonderful beginning for the holiday season!! I started the Thanksgiving break with a stomach virus so inutterably foul that I won’t even go into details here. Although let me brag a bit and say it takes a great deal of finesse and skill to vomit into a bag WHILE driving and not cause an accident. Mind you, MA was in the seat next to me as I heaved and she was very stoic, merely asking me to open her window so she could stick her head outside.
It was not a very jolly Thanksgiving. There was no over eating on my part. I sipped Sprite and watched as the others fell on the roast beast and devoured the carcass…..

Ok, that was three separate posts….if ANY of that made sense to you, STOP listening to the elevator voices, proceed immediately to the nearest hospital and check yourself in for evaluation!! Meanwhile, I am going to go and SWEEP UP the dog hair because I STILL don’t have a working vacuum!!!