OMG - I was soooooo busted this morning. I was leaving my hotel room to go grab like my 7th delicious complimentary continental breakfast for the week (lets investigate the origins of that term later....) Ok, so I am in the process of kicking yet another newspaper left on my door step into my room and I suddenly fear for my life.....shit -the Miley Cyrus crew is coming down the hall towards me like the storming of the Bastille.
The "chaperon" immediately goes "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" to the girls.
Then I hear the following statements from the girls as I walk by like I dont notice them:
"Do people really live in hotels?"
"Do you think thats her?"
"Can we go ask her if..." Dont know what she was going to say because the adult like figure cuts her off.
"Whatever - she (me) is so dumb"
Of freaking course I would walk out of the fucking room RIGHT when they were coming back from the pool. I am jealous of their energy. I heard them until 3am (though they were much quieter after the hotel guy came to their room after someones complaint. And then by 9am they have already woke up, gone swimming and come back to their room? Bitches.
OK - back to the term "continental breakfast". Do you think since they are always complimentary hotel gurus just decided to call them continental for alliteration purposes? Let us turn to google and wikipedia (two sites by the way no person should live without!) Sweet - I googled the term and the first hit listed is a wiki explanation. Not satisfied with the results, though. Describes the term, but not the origin - except that it evolved from Mediterranean breakfast traditions. Next hit - wisegeek.com --- not familiar with this site. According to this site the terms derivation is an allusion to the fact that it is the breakfast of choice on the continent of Europe. Makes sense. Im disappointed - really not very clever.
Enter bad mom.
On my way home from the R-Kansas, I decided that I needed to stop to buy something for Nixon and Brian. Every time I go out of town I come home feeling like the fact that I have been gone all week can be made up with Polly Pockets and Dr. Peppers. There are two problems - do I feel guilty? and am I setting a pricey expectation that my returns must always be accompanied with "prizes" Im a shitty mom and wife. (not to mention a shitty person to have next to your chidrens birthday party).
In my defense Brian enjoyed his DP and is now taking a late afternoon slumber and Nixon was been playing with her new Polly Pocket Pool for two hours.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
No more sympathetic
Why is it that children are annoying unless they are yours? (ok, our children are annoying too)
Im ready to go postal on the kids next door. Dont be surprised if you see that a Hampton Inn in Ft. Smith, Arkansas has blown up - it would have been me. There are a bunch of "tweens" having a birthday party in the room next door. Seriously, cant I just get some work done? How is it that I was more relaxed in NYC earlier in the week, than in the small town America Arkansas because of this fucking Hannah Montana party going on next door.
It does make we wonder about the double standard of sorts that most parents go through daily. Why is it that I cant be more understanding about the kids next door having a wildly good time - talking about the cute new boy at school and the Jonas Brothers tour? I was once a little teenager and one day I will have a daughter turning 12 who may want to have a slumber party at a local hotel.
I really thought that once you had a child you would be more understanding of these kinds of situations - but Im just not - is that wrong? Im so torn....I want to pick up the phone next to me call the front desk and have them shut these kids the fuck up. As a mom, though, I cant ruin the poor little brats birthday party.
Ohhhhh....idea.....maybe I can go next door and offer each of them a little birthday present package of xanax. That would shut them up....but I would be out of xanax. Maybe that wont even matter, because what I need right now is a big fat dose of vicodin to get rid of the headache that the lil southern belles are causing. It may be more cost effective for me to crush up the endless supply of benadryl in my purse and put it in some cans of sprite and leave that on their doorstep.
But seriously, there has to be an adult with them and how is that chaperon not telling them to quiet down, that it is almost ten o'clock at night and that there are other people staying here and that they might need to get some sleep. Maybe it isnt the kids I am mad at, maybe it is the adult. What the fuck? Shut the fucking kids up...................gotta do it.......did it....called the front desk.
Sorry kids.
Im ready to go postal on the kids next door. Dont be surprised if you see that a Hampton Inn in Ft. Smith, Arkansas has blown up - it would have been me. There are a bunch of "tweens" having a birthday party in the room next door. Seriously, cant I just get some work done? How is it that I was more relaxed in NYC earlier in the week, than in the small town America Arkansas because of this fucking Hannah Montana party going on next door.
It does make we wonder about the double standard of sorts that most parents go through daily. Why is it that I cant be more understanding about the kids next door having a wildly good time - talking about the cute new boy at school and the Jonas Brothers tour? I was once a little teenager and one day I will have a daughter turning 12 who may want to have a slumber party at a local hotel.
I really thought that once you had a child you would be more understanding of these kinds of situations - but Im just not - is that wrong? Im so torn....I want to pick up the phone next to me call the front desk and have them shut these kids the fuck up. As a mom, though, I cant ruin the poor little brats birthday party.
Ohhhhh....idea.....maybe I can go next door and offer each of them a little birthday present package of xanax. That would shut them up....but I would be out of xanax. Maybe that wont even matter, because what I need right now is a big fat dose of vicodin to get rid of the headache that the lil southern belles are causing. It may be more cost effective for me to crush up the endless supply of benadryl in my purse and put it in some cans of sprite and leave that on their doorstep.
But seriously, there has to be an adult with them and how is that chaperon not telling them to quiet down, that it is almost ten o'clock at night and that there are other people staying here and that they might need to get some sleep. Maybe it isnt the kids I am mad at, maybe it is the adult. What the fuck? Shut the fucking kids up...................gotta do it.......did it....called the front desk.
Sorry kids.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
I Heart Sarah Palin
I dont want to get into lots of politics here, because there is a lot of randomness to cover - but holy shit, I fuckin love Sarah Palin. Just wanted to get that out there.......ok done - for today.
I have been a busy girl and have no time to write, but I was sure on my travels to make lots of notes on my Blackberry so I wouldnt miss a thing. I just dont really know where to begin.......so alphabetically? chronologically? autobiographically? (many awesome individuals will catch that not so subtle movie reference) Let's dive right in.
BOK Center Guests - Sorry to begin with a local Tulsa subject, but I choose to go straight down the list. So - a quick, biased background. The BOK Center is the brand new arena that the poor taxpayers of Tulsa are paying for instead of you know....maybe fixing the streets...im just sayin...So, the big campaign push was that it would revive downtown by attracting young professionals to hang out and exciting acts to play. This last winter the first guest was announced....Celine Dion. Well, if Celine Dion isnt going to attract the young professionals - I dont know who will. Many "exciting" announcements have followed The Eagles - TWICE, Janet Jackson, The 2009 Gymnastics Superstars, Celtic Thunder and lets not forget The World Famous Lipizzaner Stallions - WTF are they? (OK, ok the American Idol Tour did stop by last night but fuck that because I didnt have tickets) So - Mayor Taylor, let me personally thank you for attracting me - a young professional - to all this highly exciting events.
If you know me well, you know I live for talk radio. Anytime a host takes a caller from Burlington, VT , I know I will be annoyed at what the tree hugger has to say.
So, today I was on my way to this lovely Hampton Inn I am currently blessing you with my blog from and I saw that from a far the "Amber Alert" electronic sign had something on it to read. I need glasses reallllllly bad and couldnt see what it says until I was super close and to my surprise it said "Welcome Hurricane Ike Evacuees!!" Shit. Like it was welcoming a pope, a president or a pop star. Yeah, welcome evacuees - glad your hear - glad your homes might not be there when you go back - glad your neighbors might be killed - glad all the food in your kitchen will be rotting. Seriously? Why would you put that up there?
The Biden smile - whether you are a Dem or not - do you not have to roll your eyes whenever Joe Biden smiles and that little glimmery sparkle shoots off his teeth like he is a fucking cartoon character. That fake, smarmy smile just screams "everyday guy"......right?
Murals on trucks? Really? I mean really? WTF is up with these. Growing up in San Diego I was surrounded by them being so close to Mexico. And no, Im not racist (I can see the accusations now). But have you EVER seen a mural on a truck that was owned by someone that was not of latin decent? I need to talk to my resident Hispanic expert Bernie at work about this. Is this something that is taught while growing up? You learn how to make tamales (and damn am I glad), how to talk really fast and how to paint murals on trucks.
I read the funniest quote on a Starbucks cup today and as a mother of a young child it made it even funnier - "When I was young, I was mislead by flashcards into believing that xylophones and zebras were much more common." Fucking brilliant.
Ill end this where it began - I heart Sarah Palin even more - I just watched an hour special on her. And sigh.....to be fair, I am now watching a special on Biden (and to rest an uneasiness some of you may have about my Biden smile note, he has had that glimmer since the 80's - so he isnt JUST doing it to look pretty next to Obama)
I will leave you with this......
I have been a busy girl and have no time to write, but I was sure on my travels to make lots of notes on my Blackberry so I wouldnt miss a thing. I just dont really know where to begin.......so alphabetically? chronologically? autobiographically? (many awesome individuals will catch that not so subtle movie reference) Let's dive right in.
BOK Center Guests - Sorry to begin with a local Tulsa subject, but I choose to go straight down the list. So - a quick, biased background. The BOK Center is the brand new arena that the poor taxpayers of Tulsa are paying for instead of you know....maybe fixing the streets...im just sayin...So, the big campaign push was that it would revive downtown by attracting young professionals to hang out and exciting acts to play. This last winter the first guest was announced....Celine Dion. Well, if Celine Dion isnt going to attract the young professionals - I dont know who will. Many "exciting" announcements have followed The Eagles - TWICE, Janet Jackson, The 2009 Gymnastics Superstars, Celtic Thunder and lets not forget The World Famous Lipizzaner Stallions - WTF are they? (OK, ok the American Idol Tour did stop by last night but fuck that because I didnt have tickets) So - Mayor Taylor, let me personally thank you for attracting me - a young professional - to all this highly exciting events.
If you know me well, you know I live for talk radio. Anytime a host takes a caller from Burlington, VT , I know I will be annoyed at what the tree hugger has to say.
So, today I was on my way to this lovely Hampton Inn I am currently blessing you with my blog from and I saw that from a far the "Amber Alert" electronic sign had something on it to read. I need glasses reallllllly bad and couldnt see what it says until I was super close and to my surprise it said "Welcome Hurricane Ike Evacuees!!" Shit. Like it was welcoming a pope, a president or a pop star. Yeah, welcome evacuees - glad your hear - glad your homes might not be there when you go back - glad your neighbors might be killed - glad all the food in your kitchen will be rotting. Seriously? Why would you put that up there?
The Biden smile - whether you are a Dem or not - do you not have to roll your eyes whenever Joe Biden smiles and that little glimmery sparkle shoots off his teeth like he is a fucking cartoon character. That fake, smarmy smile just screams "everyday guy"......right?
Murals on trucks? Really? I mean really? WTF is up with these. Growing up in San Diego I was surrounded by them being so close to Mexico. And no, Im not racist (I can see the accusations now). But have you EVER seen a mural on a truck that was owned by someone that was not of latin decent? I need to talk to my resident Hispanic expert Bernie at work about this. Is this something that is taught while growing up? You learn how to make tamales (and damn am I glad), how to talk really fast and how to paint murals on trucks.
I read the funniest quote on a Starbucks cup today and as a mother of a young child it made it even funnier - "When I was young, I was mislead by flashcards into believing that xylophones and zebras were much more common." Fucking brilliant.
Ill end this where it began - I heart Sarah Palin even more - I just watched an hour special on her. And sigh.....to be fair, I am now watching a special on Biden (and to rest an uneasiness some of you may have about my Biden smile note, he has had that glimmer since the 80's - so he isnt JUST doing it to look pretty next to Obama)
I will leave you with this......
Saturday, August 2, 2008
The Line Forms Here
It was a day of "Blue Hairs".
I have learned over the years that you can not assume that everyone knows what you know. So, I shall preface by explaining what a Blue Hair is - according to urbandictionary.com, a Blue Hair can be described best as follows: An old person whose white hair appears blue. Usually it is the only thing you can see over the steering wheel of the car they are driving - ex "Damn Blue Hair, get off the road"
Now that I have clarified, we can move on (btw - my true belief is that you are dumb ass, if you really needed me to clarify that)
At least once a week, at my POW (place of work, not prisoner of war......hmmm.....though, there may be a correlation) we have a Blue Hair day. This day used to be predictable. Every Wednesday morning the retirement home bus would pull up and the store became our very own over sized version of the Golden Girls set. Wheelchairs, walkers, dentures, Depends and oxygen tanks. I dont know if it is that old people are becoming increasingly independent and agile and therefore dont require assisted living or if the Wednesday Blue Hair bus cant afford the gas prices - but now the geezers are showing up at random.
Fucking Saturdays are difficult enough - so the last thing I want to deal with are the god damn blue hairs. Oh but no, today they were out in full fucking force. It did give me an opportunity to make some mental observations:
1. BH's only write checks. No cash and absolutely no debit cards. Oh, and they take at least 5 minutes to write the damn thing out.
2. BH's have coupons for everything. I wonder where the fuck they find all of them.
3. BH's travel in packs (nursing home bus, or not)
4. BH's always want items that have been discontinued (one time I even had a BH goes as far to yell at me and tell me that cosmetic companies and the government were in cahoots and purposely discontinued items in order to keep old people unhappy)
5. When the BH started buying item X, it was only a dollar. It doesn't matter if it is now $100 or now $5 - wouldn't it be fucking cool to live in the last century, we could get cars, houses AND makeup all for a dollar!)
6. BH's want their foundation (or as they call it "base") too dark, their lipstick too pink and their eye shadow to blue.
7. BH's have always "owned their own business" and feel more than free to criticize you to your face about how you are running yours.
8. BH's will argue the receipt is wrong.
9. BH's always want to talk to a manager (see #7)
10. BH's will ALWAYS go to the register that is closed, get mad when you explain that the register is closed, and when you point out that they need to stand behind the line forms here sign, they will in fact cut in front of everyone and claim they were first.
I have learned over the years that you can not assume that everyone knows what you know. So, I shall preface by explaining what a Blue Hair is - according to urbandictionary.com, a Blue Hair can be described best as follows: An old person whose white hair appears blue. Usually it is the only thing you can see over the steering wheel of the car they are driving - ex "Damn Blue Hair, get off the road"
Now that I have clarified, we can move on (btw - my true belief is that you are dumb ass, if you really needed me to clarify that)
At least once a week, at my POW (place of work, not prisoner of war......hmmm.....though, there may be a correlation) we have a Blue Hair day. This day used to be predictable. Every Wednesday morning the retirement home bus would pull up and the store became our very own over sized version of the Golden Girls set. Wheelchairs, walkers, dentures, Depends and oxygen tanks. I dont know if it is that old people are becoming increasingly independent and agile and therefore dont require assisted living or if the Wednesday Blue Hair bus cant afford the gas prices - but now the geezers are showing up at random.
Fucking Saturdays are difficult enough - so the last thing I want to deal with are the god damn blue hairs. Oh but no, today they were out in full fucking force. It did give me an opportunity to make some mental observations:
1. BH's only write checks. No cash and absolutely no debit cards. Oh, and they take at least 5 minutes to write the damn thing out.
2. BH's have coupons for everything. I wonder where the fuck they find all of them.
3. BH's travel in packs (nursing home bus, or not)
4. BH's always want items that have been discontinued (one time I even had a BH goes as far to yell at me and tell me that cosmetic companies and the government were in cahoots and purposely discontinued items in order to keep old people unhappy)
5. When the BH started buying item X, it was only a dollar. It doesn't matter if it is now $100 or now $5 - wouldn't it be fucking cool to live in the last century, we could get cars, houses AND makeup all for a dollar!)
6. BH's want their foundation (or as they call it "base") too dark, their lipstick too pink and their eye shadow to blue.
7. BH's have always "owned their own business" and feel more than free to criticize you to your face about how you are running yours.
8. BH's will argue the receipt is wrong.
9. BH's always want to talk to a manager (see #7)
10. BH's will ALWAYS go to the register that is closed, get mad when you explain that the register is closed, and when you point out that they need to stand behind the line forms here sign, they will in fact cut in front of everyone and claim they were first.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
So, here is the problem
I have wanted to start a blog for some time now. The same thing stops me every time. I would love to have a here-is-how-the-happy-little-family-is-doing-blog. You know, the kind of blog that I can direct all of my friends and family to, so that they can catch up on our life we live so far away from most. I could post pictures of my adorable curly blonde haired beauty in pink bows and patent leather shoes. We could post glorious pictures of the 3 of us with the dog out on some wild adventure.
But that is not really me. I do love to talk about my family, brag about my child and share tons of pictures. The thing is, I like to say fuck and shit and fucking shit and thats fucking shitty and shitty fucking - you get the point. I would guess the majority of my friends (even the ones that dont cuss) would not really care about reading a story the contained shit, fuck and every variation in between. Fuck, some people might even like it. But I cant name one family member who is older than me that would have any appreciation for my creative use of language. Ok, maybe my husband - but that would only last until Nixon could read. He doesnt allow me to cuss in front of her - and I am pretty fucking sure he wouldnt let her read this.
So what do I do? I cant pull an Obama or a McCain and pander to the middle. I want my family to be able to read cute little stories I may have or see precious pictures of little Miss Nixon Ryan. But I dont want to sensor myself. I sensor myself ALL DAY LONG. Cant I just hang out with my Dell and be myself?
But that is not really me. I do love to talk about my family, brag about my child and share tons of pictures. The thing is, I like to say fuck and shit and fucking shit and thats fucking shitty and shitty fucking - you get the point. I would guess the majority of my friends (even the ones that dont cuss) would not really care about reading a story the contained shit, fuck and every variation in between. Fuck, some people might even like it. But I cant name one family member who is older than me that would have any appreciation for my creative use of language. Ok, maybe my husband - but that would only last until Nixon could read. He doesnt allow me to cuss in front of her - and I am pretty fucking sure he wouldnt let her read this.
So what do I do? I cant pull an Obama or a McCain and pander to the middle. I want my family to be able to read cute little stories I may have or see precious pictures of little Miss Nixon Ryan. But I dont want to sensor myself. I sensor myself ALL DAY LONG. Cant I just hang out with my Dell and be myself?
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