About Joleen

I'm a Navy wife and a mama to a daughter who's like a hummingbird on crack.
Author Archive | Joleen

Just Give Me A Damn Snickers Bar And A Heating Pad

I’ve been feeling blah for the past few days so I’ve been reading a lot of magazines in bed. I’ve been seeing ads that say shit like “Have a happy period.”

What the fuck is that about?

Maybe it’s because I have fibroids and have really, REALLY heavy periods but I’m in hell for a good four days.

Have a happy period?!

Yeah, the only way I’ll have a happy period is if you prop me up on the couch with a straw in a vodka bottle and a pallet of chocolate.

When I have my period, I want to yell at everyone within hearing range to know how much they annoy me just by their existence because my crampy ass has to make a run to the store for more tampons and that chocolate cupcake I saw in the bakery section that I should have gotten when I went to the store the day before for more over the counter pain medicine.

Then, I’ll want to eat everything in sight and say fuck it, go to 5 Guys for a cheeseburger, and moan like a monkey in heat when eating their Cajun seasoned french fries.

Have a happy period, you say?!

Tell that to my piercing back cramps and lack of energy.

I love the ad for tampons where a woman is going down the water slide and they say something like, “Don’t let your period slow you down.”

When I see that commercial, it should go something like this, instead:

The camera pans to the woman in a bikini because nope, she’s not bloated from her fucking period. She has a full box of happy period tampons in a beach bag and they show her walking out of the restroom in the second shot.

The woman goes over to the wave pool and dips her toes in the water. She laughs maniacally because hey, she’s having a happy period! Woo-hoo for happy periods. And these happy period tampons have a morphine drip included in the box.

She slowly walks into the wave pool and when the water hits waist height, you hear this noise of water going down the drain and making a slurping noise.

The camera shows this guilty look on her face and she shrugs her shoulders. “Oops, did I do that?”

Her happy period tampons are so super absorbent, one tampon sucked up a whole wave pool.

Those are tampons I would buy.

Comments { 0 }

Bad Seeds

I bought a different brand of clementines recently, since they didn’t have halos and cuties. I have found through my 8 year-old that they are not the same. I repeat, they are not the same. Run for cover. The clementines I bought have seeds. Oh my god, the horror!

When I was a kid, I thought I had it tough because I had to watch commercials and sit for long periods of time to record a song on the radio that the dj would be talking through.

I had to work my ass off when making mixed tapes. It took time and dedication. To top it off, that mixed tape I would work so hard on would get stuck in the player and the tape would come out.

Sometimes it was salvageable just by sticking a pencil in one of the holes of the cassette tape and rewinding it.

So, no, I didn’t have to walk 10 miles to school with a broken leg when I was younger but damn it, if I wanted to know who played that actress in the movie with that other actress, I couldn’t just Google or look on imdb. I had to suffer through not knowing until 20 years later.

That’s hardship, ya’ll.

I was giving my daughter a snack and while she was fast forwarding through the commercials of the show she was watching on the DVR, she sighed.

“Ugh. These aren’t halos. They have seeds. I don’t like these kind.”

“Oh, cry me a damn river.”

Okay, I didn’t say it but that’s certainly what I was thinking.

Instead, I was able to use my “when I was younger” lines.

When I was younger, we had to watch commercials.

When I was younger, we used a thing called a landline.

When I was younger, people thought and still think mullets are a smart life choice.

When I was younger, I had to eat whatever my mom cooked.

When I was younger, my family couldn’t afford the kinds of food we eat now.

When I was younger, my family could only afford to go clothes shopping once a year.

Before I could drive my daughter crazier, she stopped me and said “Okay, the seeds aren’t that bad.”

She ate the clementine with those icky, bad, and horrendous seeds that were causing her to have a bad clementine experience without any more complaints.

Mission Accomplished!

Now, does anyone have a pencil I can borrow?

Comments { 1 }

Randy Rainbow

Comments { 0 }

Book And Movie Suggestions

Behind Closed Doors – This book terrified me. I didn’t realize how scary, sick, and twisted it was until I was up late reading and scootched closer to my husband while lying in bed. When that wasn’t enough, I had to turn on the table lamp because the story was creeping me out.

A husband and wife seem to have the perfect life but things aren’t always how they appear to be.

The Lying Game – Four best friends and former classmates come together after one of them sends a message that she needs them. It seems as though someone from their past knows a secret they’ve been keeping.

Into The Darkest Corner – I wasn’t expecting much from this book but was totally wrong. A woman suffered a traumatic experience and the story goes between the past and present.

~~~~~

Nightcrawler – Holy Fuck, this movie is really intense and so good. Jake Gyllllenhaaaaaaallllll, I can never spell his name right, is creepy as fuck and so good in this film. His character goes around filming accidents and crime scenes, then he sells the video to a television news station. It also has the amazing Rene Russo.

Get Out – This movie is fucked up. I’m still trying to digest it and I saw it awhile ago.

Christine – I have fallen in love with actress, Rebecca Hall, after seeing this. This is definitely not a happy happy joy joy movie. Newswoman, Christine, committed suicide live on air in the 70’s. The film is pretty dark but really captivated me.

The Gift – Another great film with Rebecca Hall and Jason Bateman. A couple starts receiving unwanted gifts from the husband’s former high school classmate. The ending is still making me pee myself. I’ve seen the movie twice more because of how good it is.

I’d love to hear what your movie and book suggestions are.

Comments { 2 }

A Woman’s Work Is Never Done

While my mom was visiting for the summer, I did plenty of bitching and whining to her about my husband. He truly is a great guy who happens to get on my fucking nerves, just as I’m sure he has plenty of moments where he wants to strangle me.

A huge thing in our house is that we can NEVER keep it clean. We’ll, I can but as soon as my kid and husband come home, stuff is flung all over the place.

It’s particularly frustrating on the weekends because my husband will want to grill or do some cooking which I very much welcome so I’m all for it.

Except…

He makes the biggest fucking mess in the world. It’s overwhelming and I’m always at a loss as to how to even start to clean the kitchen. So, I just don’t do it and let him deal.

I do the most tedious shit during the week and then my husband makes it one big party over the weekend with my daughter. He has to be fun dad who takes her out and about all damn weekend. So, I’m at home looking at the huge mess and doing the damn laundry.

Then, I end up losing my shit by Sunday afternoon and I’m all like “The house is a mess and you’ve been gone playing “the funnest dad ever” for the weekend and this can’t continue!”

Fuck me gently, it does continue. The husband says he’ll take more time on the weekend to help with the house but does he do it?

Ha, of course not!

I’ve been “nagging” him about this same damn thing for years now. I don’t want to be chained to the washer and dryer and cleaning up messes around the house while he’s out having fun but he just doesn’t seem to get it.

A woman’s work is never done.

~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~

~~~~~

Comments { 2 }

To The People Who Dance Like Nobody’s Watching

For the past six months or so, my anxiety attacks have started as early as before I even open my eyes, which is a rather new thing considering most of those attacks were usually happening at night, and I needed to cut out the news. It was making me feel completely suffocated to know of all the harm that was happening not only in the United States, but around the world.

Of course, I don’t live under a rock so the news seeps into my life on a daily basis. I’ll check in on one of my fave gossip sites to see who got married, who broke up, who had a baby, who went to rehab for “exhaustion”, who is losing their shit, etc., except there will also be news on there about the hot mess going on in D.C.

As much as I try to escape it, the real news of the world oozes in. Like the flow of lava. Destroying and burning down my small safe space of comfort.

There aren’t enough adorable puppy photos to cure these blues that are currently happening.

The pleas and desperate help that Puerto Rico needs.

The shootings in Las Vegas.

These events are so shocking and sickening. I just can’t wrap my mind around this kind of devastation.

Besides the daily stresses I go through every night while lying in bed, the happenings of the world also keep me up at night.

For some reason, when I try to be mindful and think happy thoughts, my mind goes to an Andrew Bird concert I went to last October. My mom had been visiting us for the first time in at least six years and it felt like a perfect night.

Towards the end of the show, the lights went down in the concert hall, the disco ball was lowered, stars scattered all across the arena, and there was a woman who was standing to my left. She was dancing in a way that honestly gave me second-hand embarrassment at first. She was moving her body along to the music and didn’t give one flying fuck what anyone thought, including me who quickly saw how judgemental I had been for a few quick seconds.

This woman who danced so freely is someone I hope to be someday.

Going through the rhythm of life and moving in the way that feels natural to me, no matter how ridiculous it may seem at first to those who are watching. I want to be able to drop my guard and be my true self, no matter how much it’s out of my comfort zone.

During these really difficult times, we should all be the kind of people who dance like nobody’s watching and show the kindness and goodness that so many people are very much needing right now.

This is not about politics for me.

This is about decent, human kindness that very few in current high-powered positions just don’t have.

People try to normalize the behavior of someone who is supposed to be the leader of my country and they are failing time and time again, spewing out hatred and insincerity.

So, I’m going to make an effort to go through the present, dancing to life the way that I want no matter what my conservative family members think. That’s including a cousin I adored and looked up to, my sister, and an uncle.

But, unlike them, I don’t take kindly to judge people based on their skin color or religion.

It may seem extreme to cut out family members but the decisions being made by the United States government is absolutely devastating people’s lives and ruining as well as breaking up families.

I no longer care if I’m a “special snowflake” for basic human rights and respect given to all people, no matter what their lot in life is.

Everyone deserves to have a happy life and stability. People should be allowed the freedom to come to the U.S. to make a better life for themselves.

Everyone deserves the chance to dance like nobody’s watching, without limitation or prejudice.

Comments { 2 }

Where The Fuck Are My Scissors? Part 1,894

My good pair of scissors have gone missing, nowhere at all to be found. I hid those fuckers pretty good, too.

I bought them over the summer because try as I might, my secret, hidden scissors are always found. When they are found out, whoever is borrowing them gets me talking like a possessed person. GIVE ME BACK MY SCISSORS AFTER YOU’RE DONE, I say low and slow.

YOU WILL NOT LOSE THESE AND WILL PUT THEM BACK ONCE YOU ARE FINISHED WITH THEM, I say more as a threat than a suggestion.

As a mom and parent, I share all my shit all of the time. I shared my body for nine months with one of these people. And yet, they can’t put my damn scissors back where they’re supposed to go.

I need to invent mom scissors. I have no idea what that would entail but I do like the sound of others getting a tiny zap every few seconds when my family doesn’t put them back in an alotted amount of time.

Even our crappy, will not cut anything scissors are gone. That’s probably for the best though.

I saw that my husband had that pair in the bathroom with him when he was trimming his hairy berries for his vasectomy.

So, yeah, on the bright side, I know my good scissors weren’t used in that Edward Scissorhands moment.

Comments { 5 }