Its Mothers Day....an idyllic time according to TV commercials where the kids bring breakfast in bed and the hubby takes care of dinner. The house is clean and mom is free to pick up 50 Shades of Grey. Because I'm a lucky gal-mine started Saturday. A day of shopping & mani/peri with my sister while hubby kept the kids. Saturday evening about 6 pm the fun begins! The youngest begins the barfing. This means he has steep. I'm not sure why but everytime he gets strep throat he barfs. So we spend all night and morning back and forth between bee and bathroom. I do online check in at the doc in the box who confirms its strep and gives us a rx. As I'm waiting at the pharmacy I start to realize I'm feeling like crap now too. Great! A gift that keeps on giving. While the hubby is spending time with his mother~i take care of the kiddo who is basically comatose on the couch. We doze off and on for a bit and then I have an idea! While out with my sis on Saturday she tells me she has started waxing her vàjayjay. She loves it and how the maintenance is so low. She tells me of this wax that doesn't even require muslin strips. I am in! We get the supplies and my plan is to wax my legs. Its summer and less shaving sounds fantastic! So after I wake from one of the mini naps and while the kid is still sleeping I think lets wax! I microwave the wax and head to the bathroom. I apply the wax to a few patches on my legs and let it harden. Hold the skin and pull the wax off? Check. This is a breeze! And then I had another idea! Since this is so easy I should try the bikini area. Same concept just different locale right? Oh my fucking God no. Lets talk about what could go wrong. First? I have never been waxed in that area either professionally or otherwise. Therefore I don't have a proper comparison to make here. So I apply the wax to the bikini area about 6 inches long. Wait for the wax to cool......hold skin taught.....pull in the opposite direction the hair grows....HOLYMOTHEROFALLTHAYISHOLYWHATTHEFUCKJUSTHAPPENED Tears have filled my eyes andi wipe them away to realize that only half the wax is removed. The other remains stubbornly attached to my skin. There is no way in a whit storm that I'm gonna be able to pull the rest off. I mean honestly it felt like a million paper cuts all at once, except on your vagina. I then have a decision to make. Do I finish the self torture? Do I just leave the wax? Ohhhh! I will cut that crape out. I find fingernails scissors and spend 10 minutes cutting wax out of my vajayjay hair. The lesson here is to leave the waxing to the professionals. And that kids give shitty gifts, like strep. I am now growing out the hair on my junk sp that I can go to a professional to have it waxed off. Blog post to follow on that one as well.

A Mix Tapes -Public Service Announcement

So a friend recently had her boyfriend give her a mix tape-ok it was a cd but for all the old timers like myself, we'll call it a mix tape.

She tells us about it while we're all out at lunch. She says she didn't want to tell us about it but I've decided she knew it was just so awful that she had to tell someone. She says something to the effect of "some of the songs I need him to explain". So we take her to her car as she must immediately produce said CD and provide it to us for inspection.

The third amigo and I go to her desk and immediately pop in the CD. Some of the songs were so unexplainable or inappropriate that we actually categorized them. The categories are:
Scary!, Not on a mix tape, Good for a mix tape


Under the scary! column:
*Used to Love Her--Guns N Roses (the next line is but I had to kill her!!!)--Umm no, never appropriate for a mix cd for the girl that you love...........EVER
*Eyes Without a Face--Billy Idol-Ummm, see above
*My Humps-Black Eyed Peas--When they say whatchu gonna do with all that junk inside your trunk, they're talking about how big her behind is. That does NOT endear you to most women to comment on how large their rear is.
*When I See You Cry-Lilly Allen--The song title sounds sweet enough. However, similar to above, the next line is it makes me smile. IT.MAKES.ME.SMILE.WHEN.I.SEE.YOU.CRY........mmkay

Not on a mix tape:
*In Da Club-50 cent--I honestly don't even know what to say about that one
*Beautiful Disaster--I'm sure you think it's sweet to call your girl beautiful. But when it's followed my disaster, it sort of negates the beautiful part.
*California Dreaming-Mammas and the Pappas--reference In Da Club response above. The friend is not from California, neither is the guy, they don't talk about California, there is no California reference here at all.
*Round Here-Counting Crows--I got nothin'.
*Rocket Man-Elton John--Neither of them are astronauts so I don't get this one either. She's not a ginormous Elton John fan so......
*Bennie and the Jets-Elton John--wow, just wow
*Blurry-Puddle of Mudd--I'm a huge Puddle of Mudd fan. Some of their songs I can totally see being on a mix tape-Control for example, but yeah, not this one
*Somewhere With You-Kenny Chesney--Again, the lyrics, you MUST listen to the lyrics before you put songs on your mix tape people. He's talking about being with other people but thinking of you-why do you want some guy who's banging others to be thinking about you, just icky gross.


And last but not least, the appropriate ones for a mix tape:
*Thank You-Dido
*Everything I do-Bryan Adams
*Right Where I Need to Be-Gary Allen
*Love Walks In-Van Halen


Now I believe that a mix tape should contain an appropriate ratio of songs and here's how you choose them:

Love songs from you to him/her-20%
Mattress dancin' songs-30%
Songs the two of you enjoy together-30%

THAT is how you make a mix tape ladies and gents. Biggest rule? Do not put scary songs on your mix tape. Also know that if you make your girl a mix tape...........she will share it with her friends.

Yeah, yeah, screw you too

So, ummmm, I've been really busy. I, uh, have been doing lots of work and stuff. I've had some personal stuff going on. I mean why else would I not have blogged lately? It's not you, it's me. Oh now I remember, because it's too fucking hot to breathe, think, eat, sleep or otherwise function. Well there is that.

Seriously though, I have lived in Texas my whole 29 years and I swear to fucking Satan , this is one of the hottest summers I remember. My boss just moved here from Chicago and says her son is lonely and hasn't made any friends. She says she doesn't think there are any kids in her neighborhood. I told her that we texans basically hibernate in the summer and winter. This really equals our two seasons.

You would think that I would lose weight, seeing as how it's too hot to eat. But guess what? I drink my dinner instead. This usually consists of an alcoholic calorie ridden beverage, that while tasty, does not do wonders for my waist line.

So, I say all of this to excuse my inattention. I'll think of another excuse for this winter.

My Dad is Gay

About a year ago, my dad grew THE gay mustache. You know the kind. Full, bushy (no pun intended) without any hint of the upper lip showing. I didn't say anything. I just figured that he was 70 now and didn't give a fuck what anybody thought anymore.
So when we walked out of Charming Charlies one day(a teeny bopper and gay guys accessory paradise) he made a comment about how the gay guys that work there really love to talk to him. Every time my mom drags him to that store, he gets hit on. Of course my dad, always interested in being PC, just laughs and flirts right back.
I explained to him on the way home that he was being hit on because he has a gay mustache. He seems confounded. "What is a gay mustache?" I told him all about gay guy look, especially the older sect, and their full bushy mustache. It's very vogue in the gay culture, I explained. Everybody knows that. He couldn't believe it. All this time he was walking around no doubt thinking that he was a Magnum PI bad ass, when really he was magnet for gays.
My mom did call me a few days later. He had shaved it off. Apparently, he's not THAT gay after all.

It's like riding a bicycle

My boys are older now and know me...truly know me. I didn't say they like or approve of me. Just that they know me. I will always checkin with them prior to my alcoholic escapades to see if they need a ride somewhere or I need to be "on call" for picking them up. The know however you snooze you lose! Once they hear that blender or that cork pop on the wine bottle they give me my space. They don't bother me and I don't bother them. Seriously I'm not allowed to go upstairs and talk to them cuz apparently they find me extremely annoying at a certain level of intoxication. Whatever! So tonight I'm gettin my drink on...my older boys aren't home and my smart one...the golden chosen one....wait can't call him smart one anymore cuz he let some dumb bitch at school pierce on of his ears....okay so the chosen step child has a fried over and as adorable as this little boy is at 13 freakin years old he's high maintenance. Apparently got somethin in his eye and has been....Ma'am this and Ma'am that....all freakin night long....to the point I'm bout ready to tell him honey if you need a Mamma you need to go home! But I don't.....the Mamma mode kicked right in naturally and I've been wetting cool and warm cloths for this little boy and eye wash and assuring him he's gonna be fine. Ugh! Dang I lost my buzz! but he's sound asleep now.....:)

I have a dude brain

Sooo, I'm the girl that gets along really well with guys. Even the ones I don't want to bang. For the most part, I understand them. They're quite easy to figure out: beer, food, sex in various orders and throw in the occasional sporting event and your man is happy. I absolutely love the simplicity. No emotional reactions, no PMS, no nothing.

I now realize however that I may be a tranny or something. I'm having periodic girly moments and I'm beginning to get a little freaked out. I'm looking for the hubster to occasionally say something other than, "ya wanna do it?". I'm wanting him to handle things, and I do mean handle them. Not in a mamsy pamsy way, but to really turn me out.

I realize Texas girls are tough. Always have been, always will be. I was raised in the country by a totally Jerry Springer family. That may also explain some of the lack of "feelings" I have.

So last week , my friend at work (a dude-we will call him sweet tea) says I have the emotional intelligence of a 12 year old boy. At first I was all offended and planned ways to put his car on blocks..,,,and then I realized he's right.

I never know the right things to say. Emotional people make me extremely nervous and I just want to run away. I laugh at inappropriate times, mostly from nervousness. I really do care about the people in my life, but I'm terrible at showing and saying it. I'm shitty at giving compliments and even shittier at taking them.

Sweet tea asked if I had any sweet, nice, friends that I could set him up with. I cracked up and said I did not, I don't know any nice people and certainly aren't friends with them, even if I do know them.

So for my friends? I love that we make fun of people we don't like. I love that we have races to say "that's what she said". I love that we will hate whoever the other friend hates, just because they do. I love that you will helpe plot revenge (and vice versa). I love that if I'm gonna get my ass kicked because of my big mouth that you'll step in. So what I'm trying to say in a completely retarded way, I love you guys !

I would totally help you bury a body, just sayin'. No questions asked until after we are done.

Signed
your friend with the emotional intelligence of a 12 year old boy

Yes, he sucks, and he's all mine

So was reading a blogger (barefootfoodie) and she discussed her husbands terrible gift buying. I actually snorted reading that post. I will totally put her husband up against mine when it comes to sucky gift buying, ANY DAY!! You hear that Brittany? BRING. IT. ON!

I have told everyone who would ever listen that I truly have probably the most fucked up gift buying husband there is.

First of all, he waits until the day of, or if I'm lucky, the evening before to say "What do you want for (insert romantic, gift buying holiday here)? And I have to come up with something that he can get at the only open store on Christmas Eve.

Meanwhile, throughout the whole year, I'll just randomly see something and point it out "Oooo, babe, I'd really like that pair of Carlos Santana shoes" or some shit like that. Now as someone with a vagina, I actually pay attention when the LOVE OF MY LIFE says he'd like to have something. Mental note to myself to get said item at the next gift buying holiday.

Not my lovely husband. Oh no, Walmart on Christmas Eve? You bet your ass he's there. Never mind that I am the ONLY person he has to buy gifts for. I buy for his family, my family, the kids, the dog, strangers, you name it. He has one person to buy for and that's it. Now I know what you're saying. You're saying "Collin County Chick, you are such an awesome and amazing person I think it would be so easy and fun to buy for you." And I say, you are right. I'm pretty fucking easy (hence how I got my husband) and amazing. Now, that kind of loveliness doesn't require massive quantities of jewelry (hells bells I've never been able to spell that word), nor do I need a new Infiniti G35, black with tinted windows. OK I do, but I realize that is what I want, not what I'll ever get.

He has NEVER EVER bought me clothes, or anything else that requires him to do any thinking of any fucking kind, either head. The sad thing is, he can look at something and immediately know that I will or won't like it, 99% of the time. Doesn't matter what it is. So he knows me, or at least I hope so after almost 20 years of wedded bliss.

I actually one Christmas showed him the sale ad, circled it, gave it to him, and told him where it was in the store. Boo fucking hoo. Here's normally what I get. Costume jewelry and books from WalMart. I read, I LOVE to read. I wear costume jewelry, love it, couldn't live without it. BUT, seriously? Every holiday? Not even Sam Moon, Kohls, or Target costume jewelry. Nope just Walmart. Why does he love Walmart so you ask? Because it's across the street from our fucking house almost!

My BFF actually called him before this last Christmas and told him to go get me some stocking stuffers. Mine is always limp, sad and empty on Christmas Day. Whine, whine. This year, he totally rawked it out. Bath and Body works goodies, lip gloss, etc. etc.

Now, here's the deal. He's un-freaking believable at other things. Fixing things, mowing the lawn, sex, dishes, taking care of the kids, sex, helping out my crazy ass family, sex and putting gas in my car, among many others. And besides, if he puts up with my CRAZY ass, he's pretty good.

I have realized though that really good gift buying husbands are kind of pansies. So maybe I'll stick with the real man who sucks at gift buying.