Notebooks, And Daily Planners, And Pens…

I make my way into the entrance. I’m welcomed by a greeter who says hello and I flash a quick smile towards them. I’m here on one mission and one mission only. I swerve out of the way of a mom with two toddlers and a runaway shopping cart.

And then.

I step into my glorious place.

On one side, I’m surrounded by pens and pencils.

Oooh, yeah!

On the other side are enough post-its on the display to make an outfit out of them. Mmmhmmm, I would love to have a post-it outfit.

Just a few steps away are the notebooks and journals.

Sexy.

I covfefe, I mean I confess, I’m an office supply slut.

I can’t get enough notebooks and colored pencils. Markers and printer paper.

Even if the notebook gets passed on to my 8 year-old’s way and is marked on each page with a face of a kitten or bunny rabbit, I still absolutely love picking out notebooks that I have every intention of writing in but don’t always follow through because I have so many that “I just had to have” at the time.

Daily planners are also my hot jam.

I don’t use them for my daily planning. I use them as a food and exercise diary. Yet, it always happens.

I’ll sneak a peek at the daily planners on Amazon, even though I’ve been using another one. It will be some pretty purple daily planner with a flower cut out of it.

I have to have this now!!!

And, that’s why I have three daily planners in a drawer in my kitchen.

Paper clips make me weak at the knees. You don’t even wan’t to know what a stapler does to me.

I have four words.

Magnetic. Shopping. List. Pad.

Ooh, la la.

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I Don’t Have The Ability To Shrink Clothes When Washing And Drying Them Like My Mom Did When I Was Young. I’m So Bummed.

While growing up, my mom would wash and dry our clothes and she had the magical ability to turn my 5T sweater into a Barbie dress. The most amazing experience I’ve ever witnessed was when I was visiting her in my early 20’s for a holiday.

My bra needed to dry and I usually air dry it but I was in a rush so my mom threw it in the dryer. She took the clothes out of the dryer and we were baffled when we couldn’t find my bra.

Then, we saw it.

My bra, that poor, dear bra had melted into the back of the dryer. My mother had to actually peel the bra from the back of the got damn dryer.

There it was. A crumpled and burned mess. On one hand, it was my only bra that didn’t annoy me so I wanted to take a sledgehammer to that dryer. But, on the other hand, it was just a weird mishap and fucking hilarious.

Still.

Fuck you, dryer.

The point of the story, I’m guessing, is that I can’t shrink my daughter’s clothes the way my mom can. I actually wish I could.

No, really.

The hummingbird is small for being 8 years-old. So, there are clothes I buy and have to know what runs small or big. I bought these fleece pajama pants for her that was a 7/8 and they seemed to fit but I was really surprised by how big they were on her when she tried them on. The younger size was too small so she’s in the middle. She will most likely be able to wear them through 9 years-old.

I washed them and put them in the dryer for longer than needed but alas, it wasn’t meant to be.

They didn’t shrink.

Hmmm… I think my mom needs to come back to Maine so she can work her magic and shrink some of these clothes that I have for the hummingbird.

I just don’t have the magic touch that she has.

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Of Course I’m Going To Run Into Someone I Know When I Look Like I Fell Out Of The Ass Of A Tyrannosaurus Rex

When I was in my pre-teen/teen years, my mom would tell me why bother with the way I look when we were just going to a trip to the grocery store or the laundromat.

Guess what?

Mommie dearest lied.

You’re, in fact, destined to run into anyone and everyone when you look like your dying of Ebola and forgot to even brush your hair when making that quick trip to Target for some cold medicine.

My mom would say that we’re just going to the laundromat and boom, there was my crush of the month who was also there. I was 13 and would be mortified.

Oh my god… my hair isn’t hair sprayed to death and I don’t have make up on.

My most recent run in was a few weeks ago. I had to get a CT scan of my heart and it was really early in the morning. They called me back to get the i.v. started for contrast and I was sitting there with my hair all wild, no bra, and blotches on my face from lack of makeup.

I was sitting there waiting my turn and completely zoned out on benadryl and prednisone because I’m allergic to the CT scan dye and break out in blisters.

There I was, slumped over the chair, since benadryl fucks me up like you wouldn’t believe.

From my dazed view I hear the words “Are you the little hummingbird’s mom?” “I saw you here last week when you were in ICU but I didn’t want to say anything.”

Yes, yes I am.

“I thought so. We’re neighbors. I’m “Ashley’s” mom”!

Oh, yes, yes you are… as drool dribbles out of my mouth and I’m seeing Smurfs skydive because Benadryl fucks me up that bad.

Most of the time I don’t give a fuck, though. I proudly showed up to my 8 year-old’s school in my pajamas the other day.

It takes me a lot to put on real clothes but if I’m driving 5 minutes to my kid’s school in 20 degree weather, I want to be comfy in pajama pants, a sweatshirt, snow boots, and to make the outfit… my fanciest scarf that says yes, yes I do kind of sort of give a fuck.

Really, it’s that fancy of a scarf. Or, fancy in my eyes. At least it’s not something I crawled out of bed with.

While we’re at it, let’s go back to that time in Target when I was picking up cold medicine. My nose was bright red from blowing it and my eyes were bloodshot. My hair was wild and my voice was hoarse. Then, I hear,

“Excuse me? Excuse me, Miss? I know you from the Unitarian church, don’t I?”

Her face doesn’t register but since we don’t got to the UU church very often, I’m sure that’s where we know each other from.

I quickly say “Yes, that must be it. Nice seeing you”. Then, I run my ass down the handsoap aisle and want to fall through the floor from embarrassment.

So, dear, mom. When you said “Don’t bother, you won’t see anyone you know”…. I will shout “It’s a trick! I’m going to see 30 people I know because I decided not to put on my bra. Because that’s the way it works.

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Book Suggestions For Kids And Adults

Soon, it will be the New Year! I really hope next year will be a better year than this year. I might have suggested some of these books in the past and for that, I’m a dumbass. I can’t remember every book I’ve suggested previously. I’ve been finding more comfort in books than ever before. It keeps me away from all the shit happening in the real world.

Noah The Norwhal: A Tale Of Downs And Ups – This is a wonderful book by Judith Lausner for kids about invisible illnesses. I think it’s a wonderful way to show children how even though you seem fine on the outside, inside, there are those who are struggling with issues that you can’t see.. such as depression, fibromyalgia, and migraines which is what the author of this book deals with. It helps children understand what it’s like to deal with chronic pain and invisible illnesses.

The Pink Hat – This book shows how the journey of a pink hat finds its way to a young girl marching for women’s equality.

Bad Kitty – This book series is of the adventures of Bad Kitty. These books have gotten my very reluctant reader to actually read so I give these books a big thumbs up.

Diary Of A Wimpy Kid – This is another series that my reluctant reader has found and enjoys. In The Getaway, Greg and his family go on vacation and it ends up being not what they expected.

The Lying Game – Four girls who were best friends in boarding school have been hidding a terrible secret. One of them calls for the help of her other friends by telling each one “I need you”. They come to find out that secrets aren’t buried forever.

Troublemaker – Leah Remini doesn’t hold back on her life and being a former member of Scientology.

All Is Not Forgotten – A woman has a horrific even take place and a controversial drug is used to erase that part of her memory. But, does the truth ever go away?

In The Pleasure Groove – Duran Duran was one of my biggest childhood music loves ever. In this book, bass player, John Taylor, give insight into his life as the hottest member, in my opinion, of the band. Hello, Mr. Hottie John Taylor.

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I Don’t Know How Jake Tapper Doesn’t Rage Against These Dumbfucks

As much as I try not to watch the news, Jake Tapper from CNN calls to me from time to time. I know his urge to rage against some of his guests must be strong… Rage Against The Machine, Jake… but he holds it together much better than I ever would expect.

Take for example his guest Ted Crockett.

Poor, stupid, dumbfuck Ted. This guy doesn’t have a fucking clue.

Mr. Ted Crockett made me want to throw heavy objects at my television screen when I saw this.

The ignorance and stupidity is mind blowing.

For one, he’s defending Roy Moore, who thankfully was the loser for the Alabama Senate seat and a sexual predator. A disgusting fucker who people actually defended because he’s such a “Christian” man.

Yep, sure. He’s such a religious man that he likes to pick up children and young girls. Because that’s in the bible under thou shall be a pervert to young children.

This whole thing was so fucking disgusting.

Yes, I’m so fucking angry by these so called evangelical “Christians” and their hatred for people of different backgrounds and religions.

I know not every christian is like this but it’s people like simple Ted Crockett that makes me rage.

But, my news crush, Jake Tapper, puts this dumbass in his place.

The slow blink from this guy at around the 3:03 mark is priceless.

Thank you, Jake Tapper.

Thank you!

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I Had No Idea A Toothbrush Like This Existed. It’s Like One Step Away From Cleaning My House Except The Asshole Who Designed It Forgot To Program That Option.

My husband brought home an electronic toothbrush which I imagine however much he paid, it would be able to feed an entire village of people.

I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. The hubby has been having issues with his teeth…. something about pockets and how the dentist just can’t deep clean his teeth in the proper way.

My husband’s teeth are being very difficult, so his teeth get this toothbrush that blows my mind.

I recently got a new car after having my old one for many years so I wasn’t used to all this high tech techi-ness that are in newer cars.

When we went to look for cars, the salesman would go on and on about the cool features and I was just standing there wondering if the turn signal and brake pedal is in the same spot. That’s all I give a shit about. This car has a back up camera, uh, and, uh, a lot of other shit that I don’t even understand.

When did I get so old?!

I do love the camera. That’s what really made me love this SUV but, I’m also impressed with the car radio volume control button that’s on the steering wheel.

Obviously, it doesn’t take much to make me happy.

I feel like a fucking rock star when I’m blasting the radio and can just press the mute button because Eddie Vedder is pissed about something and I can’t concentrate when he’s so angry and when I’m making a left hand hand turn on an unprotected light.

“Clearly I remember picking on the boy, seemed a harmless, little fuck. But, we unleashed a lion”…. MUTE.

UNMUTE… “King Jeremy the wicked, ruled the world. Jeremy spoke in class today.”

I love my car!

But, meanwhile… my husband’s toothbrush actually has an app and a phone holder that he stuck on the mirror.

Seriously, when did brushing teeth get so complicated?

There my husband is, brushing his teeth night after night playing with his app and synching his phone with his super fancy toothbrush.

If they can make a toothbrush this fantastical, it should be able to clean my house, damn it!

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I Don’t Have The HGTV Gene

Just like I am about pumpkin spice which makes me feel like a hooker without clients, HGTV also leaves me feeling empty.

I’ve accepted that I don’t have the HGTV gene, unlike many others. I do love to watch House Hunters International sometimes so I can see a mime and a circus juggler moving to Paris on a 1.5 million dollar budget. Where the hell do they get that kind of money?!

My husband foams at the mouth for shows like Fixer Upper and The Property Brothers. I, instead, get put to sleep. HGTV people seem to be everywhere, spreading their love of the color grey and finding the hidden potential of a crack house.

My “safe” channel used to be the Food Network. The “safe” channel is what I quickly put on when my 8 year-old enters the room. Currently, though, that channel is off limits for me because of the torture of seeing all the food I’m not allowed to eat right now. So, I’ve made HGTV the “safe” channel. Except, I had it on the other day, expecting the hummingbird to walk in anytime and I actually started nodding off as I was petting my dog.

I also see these HGTV people all over magazines and I think “Well, fuck. Zzzzzzz”. I want real celeb gossip. Like what Kate Winslet is up to or seeing Mark Ruffalo or Clive Owen as the Sexiest Man Alive. Somebody make that happen!

It must be the super mellow, monotone voices everybody uses on all the shows that HGTV airs. Actually it reminds me of the way my father-in-law speaks which nearly drives me into a coma.

They need a few shows with hosts like Sam Kinison to wake people up.

Sam: “I was driving the other day and a car pulled out in front of me and AAAAAHHH! AAAHHHH!”

If you don’t know who Sam Kinison is (I should say was since he passed away years ago), that probably doesn’t make much sense.

But picture this on HGTV:

Realtor: “We have an apartment in the middle of Paris with hardwood floors, it’s on the second floor, and it’s $100 dollars under budget”.

Prospective buyer: “I don’t know. That’s two flights of stairs. Ugh! And, that wall in the second bedroom is green. GREEN! Can you believe it? How can I make this a home with a second bedroom that’s painted green. I mean, yuck. I don’t want to pay $100 dollars under my budget for a place with a green wall. I’m going to take the place that’s twenty minutes outside of the city I want to live in and that’s $300 dollars over budget.”

Realtor: “Yeah, um, you know you can simply paint the green walls to a color that you would prefer”.

Prospective buyer: “Ewww, I don’t know. That’s a lot of work for a place that’s under budget and in the city of Paris”.

Realtor: “Okay, so, I’m not being paid enough to deal with dumbasses like you.

AAAHH! AAAHHH!”

*Back To Berlin

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