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#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 { 6 }

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 }

Finding Lost Soccer Socks And Shin Guards Twice A Week Will Be The Death Of Me

Every soccer season is dreadful because it ends up being so time-consuming. I love that the hummingbird enjoys playing but her weekly practices are late and by the time the season is over with, I freeze my ass off and it’s dark when practice is done.

Then, there’s the games. We got lucky because most of her games are at 8:15 in the morning. 8 fucking 15 on a Saturday morning. That’s crazy for me. The most annoying part of her playing soccer is that two days a week I tell her the same thing over and over and over again.

Put the soccer gear in the same place every time so we know where it is.

I don’t know if it’s little mischievous soccer fairies that move these things around but by the time we’re in a rush to go to practice or a game, we can’t find her stuff.

It will be by the door one day and the next, it’ll be gone. She’ll have no idea where it is and I’ll rip the house apart while yelling in my head that soccer sucks and it’s not worth the frustration week after week and year after year.

I hate the fucking soccer season.

Comments { 5 }

James Fucking Bay Is On Stage But Go Ahead And Keep Taking Selfies With Duck Lips, Dumbass

The last concert I went to was about three years ago. It was Nine Inch Nails and the people that had their phones out were mostly taking pictures of the band. Fast forward to last weekend when we saw James Bay. It was an excellent show but I noticed one thing.

Everybody around me were taking pics. Some were of James Bay but mostly it was selfies. I was sitting by a ridiculous pair of girls beside me and in front of me.

They were snap, snap, snapping away before the concert started which was no big deal. Bu then, when James Fucking Bay came onstage, it wasn’t even a few minutes in that these people used it as a photo op for themselves.

I couldn’t help but notice that the girl sitting beside me went through pics of duck lips after duck lips before she chose one to post on Facebook. I don’t know how she chose one since they all looked alike.

I’m practically elf short so even when standing on my tippy toes, I couldn’t see the stage that well which is why I noticed so many of these girls taking selfies throughout the show.

Maybe I’m just old and don’t get it but then again, I hate taking selfies. I hate taking pictures in general unless I’m only showing it to a few people but I have some friends who are selfie obsessed and day after day I’ll see a new selfie and think, yep, you still have your same face. Total shocker!

Comments { 1 }

Anxiety Sucks

The anxiety I have always becomes much worse this time of year. I worry about every little fucking thing that I possibly can. I have major anxiety about driving and it’s become worse than I thought it could when I got into a fender bender in a grocery store parking lot a few weeks ago.

I was waiting for a blue SUV to pull out by me and once I started backing out, bam, the guy in the Dodge Durango pulled out at the same time and we didn’t see each other. His truck didn’t have a scratch on it but my poor Subaru got a dent in the back bumper that looks like the Hulk smashed it with his fist. I also got part of my taillight broken off.

I’m taking it to the body shop on Monday and getting a rental for a few days. But, my anxiety is out of control even more now. I used to panic and stress with driving in general but now when I’m in parking lots, I full on panic. I know it was just an accident and they can happen to anyone but I’ve been overthinking the fender bender, which is what I do best. Overthink.

Now, when I’m in a parking lot, I park far away from the other cars. Leave it to a big ass truck to park right next to me though.

I was also invited to someone’s house where there will be other people and my anxiety is really kicking in over that because yay, not only do I have anxiety but my social anxiety is off the charts. I’m making myself go though because I’m sick of anxiety always taking over my life.

It’s so hard to break through it. I’ve tried to channel my anxiety into positive and creative ways and while some things work, others don’t.

Xanax only does so much for me but without it, I’d be even more stark raving mad. I also have a surgery coming up and guess what? I’m thinking of all the things that can go wrong with it. Nothing like dying but the thought of being in physical pain makes me cringe.

I recently went on a panicky talking streak with my husband about how my anxiety can be really debilitating at times. People who don’t have it will never get it though. It’s not something you can just snap out of. It doesn’t matter how much therapy I’ve had over the years. It’s just the way I’m wired. I try to be more mindful and live in the moment but anxiety and depression rears its ugly head at me.

The panic attacks are so overwhelming. When I have one, it feels like I’m suffocating and I start shaking while my mind feels like I’m in a prison cell. I want to escape my body but I can’t. It can feel like I’m drowning and being chained to all of my dark thoughts.

Anxiety, you suck.

Comments { 7 }