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Saturday, December 31, 2011

THANK GOD that's over!!!

SO....MUCH....SHIT, to talk about- I don't even know where to start!

Let me begin with the fact this was a particularly busy holiday season. Every single weekend since Turkey day has been a dead run. So with that in mind, I am going to start the year with take on Party Attire. Do with it what you will.....

I'm a little busty (completely self inflicted) so I am constantly trying to be concious of what my outfit might say about me. Making sure the girls are put away is my #1 priority. I fall apart at the mere idea of having a nipple slip.
 My next priority is this: Do I look like a beached whale in this outfit?
The style right now happens NOT to be flattering on me. I don't want to look like I can't let go of my 20's by wearing all of the old stuff in my closet, but I also don't want to look like a hot air balloon. Sometimes, I lose the battle but, please know that if I do look like Coleman camp tent it's because I don't give a shit that day. Sometimes, if I made it out of the house with eyebrows on, then I deserve a pat on the back.
Third plan of action: Do I look like I am wearing everything on my body 1 to 3 sizes to small. This happens to be the most common offense and I just don't understand. ESPECIALLY with skinny bitches. Anyone who knows me, know that I can't stand the "Skinny girl in skinnier girls' clothes" with the tag hanging out the back to let everone know it's a 2. We know it's a 2---and you're a 4.  If You're HOT- ROCK IT, and if you're a butter-face (where everything looks good but-her face) then you REALLY need to play up the assets. Yep--- I just said it. SURE did.
  I don't think a day went by this month where I didn't see the entire fucking outline of someone's thong underwear through their dress. Where I didn't see 4 inches of roll on either side of  some leggings. LEGGINGS??? There's 3 DAMN SIZES! KNOW when you need the next one.
Here's why I am so baffled by this. I have a HUGE ass. I can't put on a pair of jeans that don't look like a wet suit around my thighs and ass but a hula hoop around my waist. It's fucked up. (that's another blog) but come party dress time, this is a special occasion. Buy some spanx for fucks sake. I'm not saying lets rock spanx every single day cause I wouldn't leave the house ever, cause that's waaaay too much work...but c'mon. If you're gonna be dancing and eating, and drinking then buy the shit that goes underneath to put it away. I don't want to see your underwear, no matter how little they are,  I don't want to see all of your business when you've had 4 martini's and decide to stop sucking in, I don't want to see your multi colored slutty bra hanging out when you decide to drop it like its hot, because it reminds me how atrocious my granny ass nude colored bra is, I don't even buy the padding in the cups anymore, I've had the padding moved to the shoulder straps bitches. Just take the extra time and effort to smooth out what underneath. It's just a matter of having a little class. I don't care how cute that dress was on the hanger, shit looks like a glo-worm on you if you don't wear it right. If you don't know what I glo-worm is, then go google that shit.  It AIN'T CUTE. My public service message has been sent. You can all thank me later.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Tis the season...... for elementary school performances! YIPPEEE...=/~ NOT

We alllllll get em in the homework folder! The "REMINDER" for the Christmas performance. Well the female spawn's school went above and beyond the reminder.... They reminded us 800 BLEEPING TIMES! By #742, they were already judging the parents that hadn't purchased their tickets to the event for $3.  The reminder message on my voicemail went something like this:
"Hello (Blank School) parents! This is your reminder that you haven't purchased your tickets to see your offspring perform the song and dance with their class this Wednesday! I hope you know you're scarring your child for life and we have your phone #. IF tickets are not purchased within the next 3 minutes, we will be calling CPS and posting your photo in the school contact book under HORRIBLE parents! Thank you and make it a great day!"
Now remember that at this point, they've already sent home a 17 fliers, 3 newsletters and 84 post-it's in the kids' backpacks.
And NO, we still didn't have our tickets.
And the female spawn was NOT dressed in Red and White ---*GASP*
So last night we get there 10 minutes before the performance and the line is DOWN THE STREET. Are you KIDDING me? really? People got there an HOUR before??? WTF?? Is yours and ONLY child? I see no other excuse for you, other than mental illness.
Sorry, that was very judgmental of me. I take that back.
Mind you, there is not one parking spot for miles. So, we drive over in hopes that someone else left early---maybe by the horseshoe. We see one tiny little spot right in front of where the line is. You know the spot, the one where everyone mad dogs you, thinking that you're ACTUALLY going to run them over, The one where everyone stares at you thinking "REALLLLLLYYYYY... you HAAAD to have this spot that is 14 feet away from touching my Burberry purse??? SO lazy"
Fortunately I don't give a shit fatty. I pick and choose my exercise and I don't eat all of my kids' chicken McNuggets either. So I just scored front row parking because I don't give a shit WHAT you think of me. MUAHAHAHAHAHA. PURE evil, I know.
So we are in line, toward the end, because we didn't camp out over night,  and one of the PTA Princesses is running up and down the line saying "THIS is the line for people who HAVE TICKETS, I REPEAT, HAVE ALREADY PURCHASED TICKETS". Me and the hubby look at each other like "OH shit...just got put out on front street..." So he pipes up and says "where do we go if we don't have tickets"
I think time stopped.
the WHOLE line pretty much stopped and stared at us. I think a couple of them took a photo of the worst parents at the school. She says "Over there." pointing towards the dungeon.
okie dokie.
We head over to the "standing room only line" (where baaaaad people go to be stoned)
We wait for the line around the school to get into the multi purpose room. It was a cold son of a bitch out there too! (that's what we get, right?)  So after we stood there and were shunned by the entire first through 4th grade classes parents and family (I am pretty sure that one of the grandma's would have spanked my ass if she were willing to lose her spot in line) We finally get to enter.
Moral of the story is THIS:
We got in the door for $2 instead of $3, we still got to sit down, in a chair, my daughter still saw the whites of our little eyes when she came out on stage and we had NO SHAME in standing up and waving ridiculously and making asses of ourselves until she was able to see our smiling faces in the crowd, just like everyone else, to see her do her thang. She was the cutest little "dancer #14" that you ever saw --Hit it out of the park. Basically, The one person that mattered was thrilled and everything that happened before she did her little jig was irrelevant. WINNING......!

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Oh Christmas Tree, OH Christmas Tree! .....

Let's talk tree here people---- Not the "proposition 19, you can get a license for it now" tree, but the Christmas tree. Ever since I was a little girl, when my mommy used to drive me around in the nice neighborhoods and tell me not to settle for anything less, I dreamed about a house with the perfect window to display the perfect tree. I'm talking 15 feet of tree, adorned with thousands of white twinkly lights and 500 ornaments each hand picked and perfectly placed. I wanted THAT tree. One day, when some crazy lady from the hood (Love you mom) is driving HER daughter around looking at houses, I want it to be MY Damn tree that makes that little girl grow up to be a superficial psycho with a Martha Stewart complex.
Here's the hard part. Every Norman Rockwell painting and Christmas movie ever made, shows the whole family decorating the FARKING tree. So what message does this send? SURE kids, you can help! There's nothing that makes me more happy than decorating the tree as a family. Seeing all of the ornaments in one BIG ASS cluster fuck on the bottom of my $100, hand picked (after hours of driving from tree lot to tree lot) Noble Fir Christmas tree. What's better than drinking hot cocoa while you guys grab a handful of ornaments and throw them up against the tree to see where they land, and then leave the room to go watch The Santa Clause while I pick up the boxes and sweep up the needles, put on the tree skirt, pick up your cocoa cups, put all that shit away and stare at our fucked up family tree. I'll tell you what's better- not letting you touch it. That's what. That shit doesn't happen in this house. . BOOM. YUP, I said it. I will spend hours decorating my tree and by the time I am done, it's going to look like Macy's Christmas section threw up on my tree. The female spawn was over at Franny's house and said "we get to go get our Christmas tree and then decorate it" Franny, knowing me all to well, says "Your mom lets you decorate with her?" to which the female spawn replies"Well, we get to hand my mommy the ornaments......"

MAN, she's catching on fast.