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Where The Fuck Is The Eagle?

We recently went on our yearly camping trip which was much needed and my husband and I just celebrated our 22nd wedding anniversary. That seems so crazy. Where did the time go?

My camping style is renting a cabin with electricity and running water and roughing it for me is if I forget to bring my flat iron.

It was especially great this time around since I had my mom as an ally. Someone to hang out and eat chips and dip, plus watch Unreal, while the husband and hummingbird were out swimming all day.

I actually kayaked with my husband for the first time in ages. The last time we did that, it was early in our marriage and he had this sucky inflatable kayak that would just paddle around in circles. I found it hysterical.

While we were at the lake, we took a boat ride around the area with a guide.

I’ll say it right now, I suck at being a tourist because I don’t like guided tours for some reason. It can be fine in some cases but usually, to be honest, I just don’t care and would rather explore on my own.

So, we take this boat tour and this very nice woman points out the trees, cabins, private islands, eagles, beaver dams, etc. It was nice but for the most part, I just wanted to be back in the cabin, eating chips and dip with my mom. I am not an outdoor person by any means.

My mom and I get back to the cabin and start rehashing the hour long tour we had. We both confessed we didn’t know most of what the tour guide was pointing out to the group.

Tour Guide: The older cabins on the shoreline with their own piers were built in the 60’s. I will now tell you the entire history about this.

In My Head: What did she say about the 60’s? They did what? Should I say something to make it seem like I know what she’s saying?

I shake my head and say “Oh, hmmm.”

Tour Guide: This lake goes into so and so river to the left. You can see it in the clearing by the trees.

In My Head: I see lots of trees but I have no idea what she’s seeing that I’m not. I hope there’s not a quiz.

I shake my head and say, “Really, hmmm.”

Tour Guide: Straight ahead you can see a few beaver dams. See the sticks? Let me pull in a little closer. Now, the dams are more East of us.

In My Head: East? Which fucking way is East? I don’t see any damn dam sticks. Which way is fucking East?

I shake my head and say ” Awww, very nice.”

Tour Guide: On the private island to the right lives the so and so family. You can see so and so’s boat on the shore.

In My Head: Okay, cool. At least this time she said right instead of a direction but I can’t see a boat anywhere and there’s two small islands to the right of us. Scan… scan. Where’s the fucking boat and how long is this damn boat ride?

I shake my head and say “Nice.”

Tour Guide: In the trees ahead is a black mass in the middle where the eagle’s nest is. And, on top of the branch is the baby eagle who’s not such a baby anymore.

Passenger #5: That’s quite a big baby eagle. *Gets camera out*

In My Head: Scanning…. scanning…. scanning. What black fucking mass? Why the hell am I not seeing any of this shit? I don’t see anything resembling a nest. Scanning… scanning. And, where the fuck is the eagle? Where is the eagle? Okay. Now, my husband is also taking pictures of this eagle that I can’t see. Eagle? Where the fuck are you? I’m not seeing any of this stuff that’s being pointed out. Is everyone else just saying they see it, too? Where the fuck is this baby eagle?

I shake my head and say “Hmmm, wow. “

Comments { 2 }

Eat A Sandwich And Quit Fucking Other People

I’m alive. It’s been quite awhile. My depression has been brutal but I’m finally climbing out of that black hole.

First thing.

Chris Cornell.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

It’s been a hard one to take. My husband never understands my sadness and feeling of loss when a celebrity who I’ve been following for years dies. I try to get him to understand that these people have contributed something to my life that made it better and that’s why it feels like I lost a friend or family member in some way.

I just can’t believe he’s gone.

~~~~~

Everything going on in America and the world has me on the fucking edge every day. I’m just completely mindfucked by all this hatred that seems to be showing up more often.

~~~~~

We adopted an 8 month-old chihuahua from the humane society last month. Little Luna is such a sweetie but was rescued from a puppy mill and she freaks the fuck out with other people and dogs. We’re definitely going to get a trainer to help us with that. She’ll be totally fine and chill but then she’ll see something outside or the doorbell will ring and she goes nuts. Luna Belle is a work in progress but so adorable and really smart.

The husband is still not sure what to think and one of our cat’s pissed on my husband when we were trying to introduce them so needless to say, it’s been slow going with Penny and she has been staying in the basement for the most part. Luna is so lovable once she warms up to people. It’s just getting that training in that I hope helps her.

~~~~~

The hummingbird had her last day of second grade today. They had a lot of snow days to make up. She turned 8 a few months ago and I still can’t believe it.

~~~~~

A family member has been going dick wild. She recently separated with her husband and I come to find out she’s been fucking some loser a week before she left her husband. Okay, this is where it gets so confusing. I also come to find out that she’s been fucking her estranged husband’s former brother-in-law and the current partner of this family member’s estranged husband’s ex wife for the last three months. Got that? Because I’m still so fucking confused.

I think she may have gone a little nutty because months ago she started taking diet pills that her doctor prescribed which is essentially speed. Now, she seems to have gained back some confidence with her weight loss. To that, I told my mom this family member needs to eat a sandwich and quit fucking other people. This whole thing has caused a big rumble in the small town she lives in and has been giving the family several what the fucks?!!

~~~~

I’ve had to make myself stop watching the news since it sends me into a panic so I’ve been getting my news by watching Trevor Noah on The Daily Show. It makes the news easier to bear with the damn fine Trevor Noah.

 

Comments { 5 }

Gym Membership

I’m going to take classes and get my ass in better shape. I’ll go to the gym at least five times a week. It’ll be hard to squeeze that many days in but I can do this. I will do this! Oh, look. There’s a kickboxing class on Friday. But the only class is at 5:15 am. Fuck that! But, I joined the gym to get in better shape. I have to do this. I want to do this. Even if I know I’m not a morning person at all.

I just need to go to bed early tonight. And I’ll try to get my 7 year-old in bed a little earlier than usual.

I can do this early class but I don’t know why any human would want to up that early to sweat their ass off at 5:15 am. There must be some people out there.

Or, maybe it’s a conspiracy by gyms across the world. Hmmm. They get me to think that they have classes so early because there’s apparently the need for it for it with other people. And, then the gym virus spreads with everyone thinking people are taking a kickboxing class at 5:15 in the morning so you’d be crazy not to but you really are because it’s at 5 fucking 15 in the morning.

Later that night I start thinking that class I signed up for at 5:15 am… what the fuck was I thinking??

But, I can do it. I can do this, damn it!

I’ll go to bed early so I can read for an hour. However, my kid decides to get up to use the bathroom 5 times before she finally goes to sleep and has to say good night each time.

That’s okay. I’ll just go to sleep now so I can get to that early ass class tomorrow morning.

Shit!

I can’t sleep. Maybe I’ll try and read a little more.

Um.. what the fuck happened? How did it become 1 in the morning already. Damn you books and all your damn words. And, fuck you 5:15 am kickboxing class.

I must have been sniffing some pretty strong fumes to think this exercise class was ever a good idea.

I can still do this, though. If I go to sleep now, I’ll get 3 and a half hours of sleep. Oh my god. Just kill me know. Only 3 1/2 hours of sleep. I’m not 20 anymore. This will kill me.

But I’m paying so much a month for this damn gym to take the classes and I’ve got to do this.

I will do this!

I can do this!

4:45 am. 15 degrees outside.

Fuck this. I’m going back to sleep.

But, but….

I will do this.

Uh huh.

Yep.

I will make that 5:15 am class.

No.

No, I won’t

And, I’ll let them continue taking money from my bank account every month since some day, I will do this!

Nope. Nope, I won’t.

Comments { 3 }

#Blessed

Something has been on my mind for quite a while that I just have to get out in the open.

No, it’s not that Trump is a disgusting, vile pig who needs to be grabbed by the pussy because he’s a chicken shit and coward for not attending the White House Correspondent’s Dinner, although yes, that was something I’ve been thinking about. No offense to chicken shit or pussies.

What I want to get out in the open is that I can’t take one more person being “#blessed” on their Facebook status.

Don’t get me wrong. If you feel that way, great for you.

It’s the insane overuse of the word that annoys me. An example of the use, which I’m totally pulling out of my ass…

Facebook Status:

‘I bought a frozen lemonade at Panera and it was delicious. #lemonade #blessed’

2k likes

55 comments

Really?

It’s a fucking lemonade. Chill the fuck out.

And, seriously. You have that many likes?

I share a video of a cat eating watermelon in a funny hat while dressed up as Princess Leia with a functioning light saber, but it only gets 2 likes.

What is up with that?!

Ahem, anyway… I get the use of the word with the birth of a child or somebody recovering from surgery, etc. But, to use it all the fucking time? What happened to words like ‘thankful’ or ‘happy’?

Nope, it’s not good enough, apparently.

Facebook Status:

‘I’m so #blessed that there was a hidden tampon in my purse when I thought I was out.’

Okay, actually finding a tampon that I didn’t think I had when I’m bleeding to death at that time of the month is a blessing because I don’t want to put pants on, drive to the store, walk, get stuck behind the slowest fucking person in the whole goddamn universe, walk back to my car, and drive home. I don’t want to deal with people when I’m on my period.

Oops, my mistake.

The desire to not have to deal with people is something I want on a daily basis.

So, can you tell by my bitchiness that I’m currently on my period, would kill for a Snickers bar, and found a surprise and unopened box of tampons in a bathroom cabinet earlier?

#blessed

Comments { 7 }

No More Soccer EVER!

I feel like that should read No More Wire Hangers EVERRRR because Joan Crawford’s hatred of wire hangers is close to my hatred of my kid playing soccer. Yes, I’ve been bitching and whining about how I can’s stand being a “soccer mom” because of it being such a time suck and my kid hates going to practices. Getting her out the door for practice made me want to crawl into a ball and cry.

I bitched and moaned about it to my husband for the past three years and it turns out whining about something for that long finally registered with my husband. But, for some reason, it can take them twice as long to fix something you’ve been asking them to.

So to recap, bitch and whine, don’t politely ask your partner to fix something and they’ll do it faster.

A few weeks ago, my husband said the sweetest words to me that I’ve ever heard in our nearly twenty two years together (yes, we married very young). He said:

“Next year, I’m not signing the hummingbird up for soccer.”

I told him:

“Hallefuckingluah! I could fuck you right now!”

Little did I know that the soccer coach was to my right side, handing out soccer pictures and heard every word.

Whoops.

*Blue Orchid

Comments { 1 }

A Hairbrush In My Coffee Cup

Me:*Sips coffee* C’mon, brush your teeth and hair! The bus will be here soon!

Hummingbird: Okay!

Me: Please, hurry up! Brush your teeth and hair!

Hummingbird: Okay!

Me: *Sips coffee and thinks to self to record this mantra that I tell my daughter so I can play it back every morning*

Me: What are you doing?? You need to brush your teeth and hair!!

Hummingbird: Okay!

Me: C’mon! Let’s go!

Hummingbird: I did it! Can I brush your hair now?

Me: *Sips coffee* Sure!

Hummingbird: *Leans over me on the chair* *Hairbrush PLOPS right into my coffee*

Me: Me on the outside… That’s okay, it was an accident. Get your shoes on because the bus is going to be here soon. Me on the inside… *OMG, I’m actually drinking warm-ish coffee and I’m almost at the delicious bottom of my awesome coffee and a hairbrush falls in my cup. What are the fucking odds? Dammit! I almost had a whole cup of warm-ish coffee. Bahfuckinghumbug! Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. And this is part of the reason why I’m drawn to the icky crack liquid of Red Bull. It’s already cold and you can chug it in between yelling at your kid to hurry up and get ready for school.

unnamed-35

*Ed

Comments { 1 }

Hide My Shit

When I was about 9 or 10, I borrowed my mom’s scissors for something and when she asked for them back, I forgot where I put them. On television, they were showing an Alice In Wonderland two-part special and it was the second night. Since I couldn’t find the scissors, my mom was angry and wouldn’t let me see the second night of it. I thought she was the meanest mom in the world. The scissors were found the next day where I had absent-mindedly put them on a windowsill covered by a curtain.

Turns out, my mom wasn’t in fact the meanest mom in the world. She was just sick and tired of me losing her shit all the time, I’m sure. I’ve found that I have to hide anything, even from my husband, that I don’t want to go missing. In fact, the issues of scissors comes up frequently. I have a secret spot for two pairs of scissors. One is a small pair and the other I use to open up my hundreds of amazon packages.

The small orange handled one is hidden away in my bathroom and the other scissors are in the very back of our junk drawer. But, even those get found and then lost so I resorted to hiding them in the bedroom closet. The older my daughter gets, the more I have to be a hiding ninja.

It’s the same with my lighters that I use for my vanilla candle addiction. I use the long lighters and probably go through several a year since my husband will borrow one for the grill and I’ll reluctantly hand it over and then will I ever see that lighter again? Of course not.

Somehow, between the kitchen and my husband’s grill on the deck, it gets Twilight Zone’d and disappears into thin air. Later on, I’ll want to light some candles for winding down and then I can’t find the fucking lighter. My husband will just respond with “it’ll show up sometime” and I want to bop him on the head because how does he expect me to unwind when I can’t find the damn lighter for my damn candles so I can fucking relax?!

Then, there’s the chocolate issue. We have a bowl of candy in the pantry but I’m hooked on the Lindt chocolate truffles and have to be careful where I put them. I thought the perfect place would be behind my Shakeology bag… fyi, that stuff is gross. It turns into this gelatinous goo even when I drink it in a fast amount of time. I know some people swear by the stuff but if you come across it, don’t bother. Making my own fruit smoothies with protein powder is so much better.

Okay, I’m totally off track. Back to my chocolate. I hid it behind my protein powder where I thought my husband never goes and while the hummingbird was wanting some chocolate, he mentioned my chocolate stash. That’s mine! My precious Lindt truffles are all miiine!

So, I have to find a better place to hide them if I buy a bag… like in my belly. If you’re a parent or parent to be, hide your shit. Because if you don’t, you’ll never see it again. Then again, when you have kids, you have to worry about finding their shit too.

Comments { 10 }