I'll be the first to admit, you really had me from "Hello". You were everything and more to me, and I was completely enthralled. I thought you were too cool for school, and I was more than willing to spend the rest of forever with you by my side.
You gave me my beautiful little girl, you gave me a new purpose, and then everything changed.
How it changed, when it changed, I'll never know -- but it did, and it wasn't good. Now we're at this place, and this place is scary. It's crazy, it's going to get messy, and I'm so lost as to how it happened. It's like you don't know me, almost six years later; I don't know you.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
28 March 2012
26 March 2012
Mass Effect 3: I'm In Love With You Already
For everyone in love with Shepard (or FemShep, as fans call the female version), the sleepless nights spent waiting on the release of Mass Effect 3 are almost over. From the very first scene of the very first game, it's been a romance worth all the hours logged. I've been sighing and drooling over the website for months. The demo has been out for a minute, and people are loving it. I've been scouring the internet, and picking people's brains, and I've come up with a little bit of information to share with the masses.
19 March 2012
To Your Unborn Children And My Already Born One
Have you seen this?
100 REAL Tweets From People Who Would Murder Their Gay Children
If you haven't, please take a moment to browse. This blog can wait.
Now, if you have Tumblr, there's a nice little image to go with it. The people that compiled the list are amazing, and I applaud them for getting this out there.
Isn't this nice? I wish my parents had been like this when I was born, right? Oh, wait, they were.
100 REAL Tweets From People Who Would Murder Their Gay Children
If you haven't, please take a moment to browse. This blog can wait.
Now, if you have Tumblr, there's a nice little image to go with it. The people that compiled the list are amazing, and I applaud them for getting this out there.
 |
| Yay Homophobes! Fucking dicks. |
Isn't this nice? I wish my parents had been like this when I was born, right? Oh, wait, they were.
22 January 2012
Some Things To Ponder At The Close of Another Week
I had the best conversation with Husband last night. It made me tear-up a little, and boy did I need to hear the things he told me right about then.
I was whining about student loans and the ridiculous price of higher education, and he stopped me in my tracks. He reminded me that I've already got a lot of school under my belt, and if this was what I really wanted, he would do whatever it took to support me and make it happen no matter the cost or struggle -- but if I wanted to just keep doing what I was doing, that was fine too. I told him I was tired of feeling like I'm not contributing enough, and again, he stopped me.
He reminded me that I cook, clean, run errands, pay bills, and make sure the laundry is done for everyone in the house; I administer care and love when needed and make sure everyone is doing what they need to do, when they need to do it; I take care of the little things so no one else has anything to worry about once they're off-the-clock and ready to enjoy some down time; I love and nurture and educate our daughter, and I work my ass off to make something of myself when most people are content to just be blips on the radar. He said he never gave me the credit I deserve, and he was wrong; he never appreciated all I do for not only him, but our daughter, our families, and our friends.
It really threw me for a loop, because admittedly, throughout the "problem years" of our marriage, one of his biggest complaints was that "You think making doodles on the internet is a job?". It always hurt me, because at one point, my "doodles" were paying half of the bills and ALL of the luxuries we enjoyed. I was bringing in over $7k/mo and working 20/hrs a day -- the other four were spent catching up on all the things I didn't get accomplished throughout the day. I slept only when I was sick or delirious, and sometimes I skipped it then (I remember trying to have a conference call laying in the ER with an IV and having the nurses take my phone away because "You can't talk on the phone and get a CT Scan, Mrs. G."). I felt like if that wasn't good enough, nothing I ever did would be good enough.
He used to regulate me when I would get mad at him for no reason out of frustration, stress, and exhaustion. For about a week here and there, he would be Superman. He would make me eat, sleep, and take breaks from work. He would help out with the house and the errands and the kiddo so I could catch a break and relax. There was a point in my career as a WAHM that I had gone over a week without a shower, because I never had the extra time to worry about it. I was too busy doing everything else. He never complained, he just took kiddo for a very long walk around the lake so I could take a shower and have a minute to gather myself. I spent four hours just sitting outside enjoying the warm summer night. I had missed almost every single one since they started. They started in April, and it was the end of July.
But, for the most part, he hated what I did and felt like I wasn't doing enough to help out. He felt like I was just meandering through life, waiting on him to support me so I could dick around on the internet all day. He left everything up to me, and played FFXI like it was his second job. I wasn't feeling appreciated, and we fought constantly because neither one of us were standing behind each other anymore.
He was always my support system. When he got sick, something changed, and it didn't un-change when he was better. I think he just needed some time to live life the way he wanted, but he wasn't exactly "footloose and fancy-free". He had a family to support and a military career in full-bloom. He had people depending on him, and when the military decided to let him go, we moved and he was even more lost. It wasn't exactly the greatest start to our lives, and we had a LOT of huge bumps in the road, but we made do. It was definitely hard, and we definitely almost gave up countless times.
But we didn't. We stuck it out, never giving up, fighting every step of the way. That's the true test of a marriage -- love, COMMITMENT, dedication. Just because the going got tough, we didn't make the choice to abandon everything we had to make things "easier".
Hearing his love and support last night got me thinking about everything we've been through, and where we are today. I'm thankful that he is my "rock" again. I couldn't do what I do without him backing me up. I missed his ever-present enthusiasm for my work and his understanding that it's my dedication that makes it so good. Without support, no one will succeed. There is always a need to hear "You're doing the right thing." and "This is worth it, keep going.".
We both have some pretty big dreams and some pretty big plans. We're going to work together and support each other until they're achieved. That's not something to take for granted, that's for sure. He wants to work towards owning his own business, and I want to get mine back to where it used to be. I want to take on the world and continue to write and love every minute of it; he wants to buy up rental properties and open his own construction company.
These aren't things that are going to come to fruition without ups and downs, but it's nice to know that we won't have to go for them while butting heads and throwing blame. I'm going to make a go at school, and if we just can't do it right now, I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing -- only this time, it's going to be done knowing that I have his support. I'll know that no matter what, he believes in what I'm doing and is thankful for my contribution to this family.
I was whining about student loans and the ridiculous price of higher education, and he stopped me in my tracks. He reminded me that I've already got a lot of school under my belt, and if this was what I really wanted, he would do whatever it took to support me and make it happen no matter the cost or struggle -- but if I wanted to just keep doing what I was doing, that was fine too. I told him I was tired of feeling like I'm not contributing enough, and again, he stopped me.
He reminded me that I cook, clean, run errands, pay bills, and make sure the laundry is done for everyone in the house; I administer care and love when needed and make sure everyone is doing what they need to do, when they need to do it; I take care of the little things so no one else has anything to worry about once they're off-the-clock and ready to enjoy some down time; I love and nurture and educate our daughter, and I work my ass off to make something of myself when most people are content to just be blips on the radar. He said he never gave me the credit I deserve, and he was wrong; he never appreciated all I do for not only him, but our daughter, our families, and our friends.
It really threw me for a loop, because admittedly, throughout the "problem years" of our marriage, one of his biggest complaints was that "You think making doodles on the internet is a job?". It always hurt me, because at one point, my "doodles" were paying half of the bills and ALL of the luxuries we enjoyed. I was bringing in over $7k/mo and working 20/hrs a day -- the other four were spent catching up on all the things I didn't get accomplished throughout the day. I slept only when I was sick or delirious, and sometimes I skipped it then (I remember trying to have a conference call laying in the ER with an IV and having the nurses take my phone away because "You can't talk on the phone and get a CT Scan, Mrs. G."). I felt like if that wasn't good enough, nothing I ever did would be good enough.
He used to regulate me when I would get mad at him for no reason out of frustration, stress, and exhaustion. For about a week here and there, he would be Superman. He would make me eat, sleep, and take breaks from work. He would help out with the house and the errands and the kiddo so I could catch a break and relax. There was a point in my career as a WAHM that I had gone over a week without a shower, because I never had the extra time to worry about it. I was too busy doing everything else. He never complained, he just took kiddo for a very long walk around the lake so I could take a shower and have a minute to gather myself. I spent four hours just sitting outside enjoying the warm summer night. I had missed almost every single one since they started. They started in April, and it was the end of July.
But, for the most part, he hated what I did and felt like I wasn't doing enough to help out. He felt like I was just meandering through life, waiting on him to support me so I could dick around on the internet all day. He left everything up to me, and played FFXI like it was his second job. I wasn't feeling appreciated, and we fought constantly because neither one of us were standing behind each other anymore.
He was always my support system. When he got sick, something changed, and it didn't un-change when he was better. I think he just needed some time to live life the way he wanted, but he wasn't exactly "footloose and fancy-free". He had a family to support and a military career in full-bloom. He had people depending on him, and when the military decided to let him go, we moved and he was even more lost. It wasn't exactly the greatest start to our lives, and we had a LOT of huge bumps in the road, but we made do. It was definitely hard, and we definitely almost gave up countless times.
But we didn't. We stuck it out, never giving up, fighting every step of the way. That's the true test of a marriage -- love, COMMITMENT, dedication. Just because the going got tough, we didn't make the choice to abandon everything we had to make things "easier".
Hearing his love and support last night got me thinking about everything we've been through, and where we are today. I'm thankful that he is my "rock" again. I couldn't do what I do without him backing me up. I missed his ever-present enthusiasm for my work and his understanding that it's my dedication that makes it so good. Without support, no one will succeed. There is always a need to hear "You're doing the right thing." and "This is worth it, keep going.".
We both have some pretty big dreams and some pretty big plans. We're going to work together and support each other until they're achieved. That's not something to take for granted, that's for sure. He wants to work towards owning his own business, and I want to get mine back to where it used to be. I want to take on the world and continue to write and love every minute of it; he wants to buy up rental properties and open his own construction company.
These aren't things that are going to come to fruition without ups and downs, but it's nice to know that we won't have to go for them while butting heads and throwing blame. I'm going to make a go at school, and if we just can't do it right now, I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing -- only this time, it's going to be done knowing that I have his support. I'll know that no matter what, he believes in what I'm doing and is thankful for my contribution to this family.
16 January 2012
My Cat Only Loves Me When... A List
Today I want to talk about my cat. His name is Stephen. He's an abused rescue that I shoved in a cat carrier and moved from Louisiana to Georgia. He went from being born and raised by the hard-knocks of the streets, to being a fat and lazy house cat in the course of 13 hours. He's extremely intelligent; you only have to show him something once, and he's got it. He's also a really big pain-in-the-ass.
He knows he's loved, and he knows he's cute -- it's a dangerous combination.
He's still really skittish for some odd reason, even though he's babied like he's king-of-the-castle. I swear sometimes I think my Mom likes the cat more than me. You're welcome, old lady.
I think he's adapted well, and we enjoy the shit out of him. He's a constant source of joy and entertainment, and even when I have to spray him in the face with the water bottle for trying to tear something up, I still can't help but smile.
But.. he's just like every other cat: he only loves us when he wants to, which is never when it's convenient. I have compiled a list of times when he wants love and attention, and I'm going to share it with you guys. If you have cats, feel free to laugh, because you know they do it to everyone. If you have anything to add, add it in the comments.
My Cat Only Loves Me When:
- I have to pee.
- I'm trying to take a shower.
- I'm brushing my teeth.. my back teeth, and I haven't spit yet.
- I'm doing something to my hair with an extremely hot tool.
- I'm putting on eye liner, mascara, or eye shadow.. just the darker shades that are hard to get off without reapplying everything.
- I'm trying to sleep.
- I'm about to get up and do something.
- I'm cooking.
- I have just accepted the fact that he's not going to come be nice to me and I set my laptop desk up.
- I'm drinking something hot.. or cold.. and I just took that first big swallow, but haven't quite swallowed yet.
- I'm on the phone with someone other than family.
- The kid wants attention.
- I'm reading.
- I'm trying to clean up the kid's mess of small toys (meaning I end up digging them out from under things like beds, couches, chairs, and the one table in the house that you're always guaranteed to hit your head on).
- I'm not in the mood.
- He's hungry.
- I just fed him and I'm taking the scoop back to the container.
- While I'm trying to feed him, and I have a scoop of food and am not paying attention to him wrapping his self around my ankles.
- I'm doing laundry.
- I'm trying to wrangle the kid into the bathtub or bed.
- Mom is all "He hates me, he's never going to bond with me, emooooooo stuff!".
- I'm writing... like now.
- He thinks I have food.
- He knows I don't have food, but am contemplating getting up to get some.
- I'm thirsty.
- I'm trying to concentrate.
- I want to practice making babies with Husband.
- Husband is sitting next to me.
- Husband wants to hold my hand.
- I really, REALLY have to get up and go pee.
- I'm trying to play with him, which usually ends up in pouting and biting.
- Mom is trying to love on him.
- I'm carrying something that obstructs my vision.
- My screen saver comes up on my laptop.
- It's time to clip his nails so I feel really bad about holding him down.
- I'm standing in front of the heater.
- I'm getting something out of the oven.
- Did I mention when I'm trying to pee?
I never understood why kids and pets only want something to do with you when it's the worst possible time. It's like they have this sensor built-in to detect when you have something going on, so they can be all up in your shit with their huge eyes and their little noses.. DAMN THE CUTENESS! DAMN IT TO HELL!
And, to leave you wondering why in the hell I even waste your time with my blog in the first place, here's a few pictures of the little rat-bastard. I do love the little shit...
He knows he's loved, and he knows he's cute -- it's a dangerous combination.
He's still really skittish for some odd reason, even though he's babied like he's king-of-the-castle. I swear sometimes I think my Mom likes the cat more than me. You're welcome, old lady.
I think he's adapted well, and we enjoy the shit out of him. He's a constant source of joy and entertainment, and even when I have to spray him in the face with the water bottle for trying to tear something up, I still can't help but smile.
But.. he's just like every other cat: he only loves us when he wants to, which is never when it's convenient. I have compiled a list of times when he wants love and attention, and I'm going to share it with you guys. If you have cats, feel free to laugh, because you know they do it to everyone. If you have anything to add, add it in the comments.
My Cat Only Loves Me When:
- I have to pee.
- I'm trying to take a shower.
- I'm brushing my teeth.. my back teeth, and I haven't spit yet.
- I'm doing something to my hair with an extremely hot tool.
- I'm putting on eye liner, mascara, or eye shadow.. just the darker shades that are hard to get off without reapplying everything.
- I'm trying to sleep.
- I'm about to get up and do something.
- I'm cooking.
- I have just accepted the fact that he's not going to come be nice to me and I set my laptop desk up.
- I'm drinking something hot.. or cold.. and I just took that first big swallow, but haven't quite swallowed yet.
- I'm on the phone with someone other than family.
- The kid wants attention.
- I'm reading.
- I'm trying to clean up the kid's mess of small toys (meaning I end up digging them out from under things like beds, couches, chairs, and the one table in the house that you're always guaranteed to hit your head on).
- I'm not in the mood.
- He's hungry.
- I just fed him and I'm taking the scoop back to the container.
- While I'm trying to feed him, and I have a scoop of food and am not paying attention to him wrapping his self around my ankles.
- I'm doing laundry.
- I'm trying to wrangle the kid into the bathtub or bed.
- Mom is all "He hates me, he's never going to bond with me, emooooooo stuff!".
- I'm writing... like now.
- He thinks I have food.
- He knows I don't have food, but am contemplating getting up to get some.
- I'm thirsty.
- I'm trying to concentrate.
- I want to practice making babies with Husband.
- Husband is sitting next to me.
- Husband wants to hold my hand.
- I really, REALLY have to get up and go pee.
- I'm trying to play with him, which usually ends up in pouting and biting.
- Mom is trying to love on him.
- I'm carrying something that obstructs my vision.
- My screen saver comes up on my laptop.
- It's time to clip his nails so I feel really bad about holding him down.
- I'm standing in front of the heater.
- I'm getting something out of the oven.
- Did I mention when I'm trying to pee?
I never understood why kids and pets only want something to do with you when it's the worst possible time. It's like they have this sensor built-in to detect when you have something going on, so they can be all up in your shit with their huge eyes and their little noses.. DAMN THE CUTENESS! DAMN IT TO HELL!
And, to leave you wondering why in the hell I even waste your time with my blog in the first place, here's a few pictures of the little rat-bastard. I do love the little shit...
 |
| He gets between my legs at night so I can't move... asshole. |
 |
| This one is from his "street" days... |
 |
I SEE U. Y U NO CAN MOVE? OH. IZ CUZ OF MEH. |
 |
POP ALL THE BUBBLES! |
 |
| Why, no cat, I'm not trying to go pee. |
14 January 2012
Your Number Come-th Up, Judge-y Parent!
Okay, this is purely a rant blog. It in no way means I think that any one of my friends and fellow bloggers are these types of people. It does mean that others have encountered this shit in real life, away from the internet, and I feel like it needs to be said.. by me.. on this blog. I'm out to get the ones who make us not-so perfect parents feel like a bag of douche for not being as awesome and sun-shiny as they seem to think they are.
Hey! Guess what? You're not perfect and rainbows do not come falling out of your ass every time you fart. I don't like you. Most parents do not like you. Life? Yeah, life doesn't like you, either. No one likes a show-off. Or you. Because you're a fucking tool.
If you are easily offended, don't read this. If you read this and you're like "OMG THAT BITCH IS TALKING ABOUT ME!", you're wrong. I don't know you. This is about the kinds of shit that other parents have given me/others during the course of our lives as parents. Some of this has nothing to do with me, but I'm writing it the way I'm writing it because I'm awesome and I'm dedicated. I never reveal the sources of my inspiration. Get over yourself, most of this shit is hilarious as fuck. Just laugh, dammit!
Aaaaaanyhow, back to my rant. Well, the points of my rant.. Here are some reasons why I don't like you. I also got some pretty great fodder from some not-so amused dads. Apparently other moms are too nice to say mean things. I don't believe in "sticking together" if you can't fucking be nice. Go eat some mushy peas, mean-ass. Here are some letters to mull over while you stuff your judge-y face:
Dear 'Oblivious' Parent,
Is there any reason why you feel more inclined to talk shit about my clothes, my kid's clothes, or how I'm letting my kid/kids play on the playground, than pay attention to your own kid/kids? Because, I just want you to know, your kid has a face full of sand and something that resembles dog shit, and I'm not sure you care at this point. Oh, and while you were letting your kid/kids do shit like that, my kid was perfectly safe and happy and I was probably playing with her or watching her play like a fucking helicopter mom, you accomplished nothing by treating me like I'm on 'American Idol: Parenting Edition'. And your kid ate shit. I hope you get some all over your face because you still have no idea it happened. Like my top? I got it at fucking WALMART.
Dear 'Savvy' Parent,
I like your shoes. Were those on sale for $400 or $900? Oh, mine? I got mine at the fucking Dollar General. They were in the clearance bin for like a buck. With the money I saved, I bought my kid four new outfits, a new pair of shoes, and that bubble bath that costs more than all my beauty supplies combined. She likes it and it makes her smell like Jesus rubbed his awesomeness all over her. No, I don't mind that my shit looks old and ragged, because my kid has the best of everything and I work my fucking face off to make sure she never goes without. I like spending my money on her instead of me; it's the reason I'm a fucking GREAT mom. I may be on the lower-class side of life, but you'd never know that my kid doesn't have rich parents. I'm glad that you have lots of money, but why is your kid wearing Walmart while you wear Gucci? Thanks for making me feel like Parent of the Year. I needed that. My last pair of slacks that are work appropriate just ripped, and I was having a bad day.
Dear 'Awesome-Rack' Parent,
Congratulations! You fed your kid from your/your wife's boobies and not from a bottle. You achieved something so wonderful that the angels cry. Oh, me? Why didn't I breast feed my kid? BECAUSE I FUCKING COULDN'T! Thank you, though, for telling me I'm a terrible, no-good parent, and rubbing the glory of your success in my face. It makes me get this warm and fuzzy feeling deep inside my vag. I tried, and I was really down on myself for two fucking months because I couldn't have that bond with my kid. If you had bothered to ask before you sat on your titty pedestal, you might've saved some face. You just look like an asshole now. And, for the record, we bonded. We bonded the shit out of each other. That kid tells me every single day that I'm her best friend. She also got to bond like Gorilla Glue to her dad. It was awesome. We are awesome. Fuck you.
Dear 'Earth-Friendly' Parent,
I'm glad that you chose to use cloth diapers. That makes me happy for you, and I'm sure that you feel a little more righteous because you saved the fucking tree people or whatever -- awesome. I chose to use the diapers that I can throw away. It's my choice. I had enough shit thrown at me while my kid was in diapers, I didn't feel like dealing with washing them and drying them and wondering if shit was going to be stuck in my washer. Just because YOU did something, does NOT mean the rest of the world has to. Every parent has a choice and your way isn't always the only way. I know you feel this way because you're a martyr and you do so much good with your cloth diapers and your fucking ego, but no. Fuck that. You're not holy, you didn't save the tree people, and your washing machine probably smells funny. There, how do you like MY opinion? If it pisses you off, I did my job. Because you piss me off. A lot.
Dear 'Wow' Parent,
Your kid is not a testament to you. You kid is a kid; a human being. They aren't a prop. If you treat your kid like a fucking accessory, you're an asshole. You have no place to judge me or any other parent. You're the Paris Hilton of parents, and you suck. The end.
Dear 'Psycho Hippie' Parent,
Breast feeding your child when they're in pre-school is just creepy. I'm not doing it and it's not because I'm a bad parent. It's because I talked with my kid's pediatrician and I chose to go with her facts and not my own weird internet research. New age parents confuse me. If our parents fed us real food whenever we were ready, why can't you do that for your kid? You seem to be semi-stable and normal, meaning your parents did a good job with you. Why would you want to do something that isn't healthy for your kid for your own sake? You are also the 'Wow' parent.. making your statement. It's a really messed-up statement and I don't understand it, but it's there. I salute your decision in my own way. All I ask is that you stop telling me what's best for my kid.. because you don't know anything about her. You should also stop being so fucking high and mighty. No one likes people butting-in where they have no business sticking themselves in. I did what was right for my daughter, and she's a healthy, intelligent, well-adjusted little hellion that has gone through a lot in her three years of being alive. I think she's doing fan-fucking-tastic all things considered. If you think she needs formula at three, when it loses all nutritional value between 10-14 months, that's your opinion. Now, please go choke on it. Enjoy your day, you're very rude.
Okay, so the last one is from me.. but whatevs. I know a lot of parents feel like ass when other parents act like they've never had a breakdown, never had to deal with bullshit, never been stressed or tired, or they just have their fucking shit together all the time. I am calling you out, mean parents. STOP BEING SO DAMN AWFUL! Not every parent is the same, much like the children we rear. We all have different ways of coping with things and raising our kids. We were all raised differently. If you can't accept that not everyone is going to be as amazing as you think you are, you're a huge bag of ugly.
POWER TO THE COOL PARENTS!
We have meltdowns, we don't always like our kids even though we love them with every fiber of our being, we do the best we can with what we have, and our kids are the kids everyone wants to have. I love being 'Mommy' to my little tornado. She makes me mad, sad, tired, hyper, cry, smile, laugh, fuss, and amazed every time she comes into a room. I couldn't imagine my life without her in it, and I'm thankful every single day for her. I know I've had some days where I'm like "Baby Jesus, please give me a break!", but everyone has had those days. It's normal. It's called being a fucking parent. Try being a REAL parent sometime, judge-y parents.. you just might find it's a great experience. Also, when you try it and love it, apologize to the parents you've shit on over the years. Make our day.
Hey! Guess what? You're not perfect and rainbows do not come falling out of your ass every time you fart. I don't like you. Most parents do not like you. Life? Yeah, life doesn't like you, either. No one likes a show-off. Or you. Because you're a fucking tool.
If you are easily offended, don't read this. If you read this and you're like "OMG THAT BITCH IS TALKING ABOUT ME!", you're wrong. I don't know you. This is about the kinds of shit that other parents have given me/others during the course of our lives as parents. Some of this has nothing to do with me, but I'm writing it the way I'm writing it because I'm awesome and I'm dedicated. I never reveal the sources of my inspiration. Get over yourself, most of this shit is hilarious as fuck. Just laugh, dammit!
Aaaaaanyhow, back to my rant. Well, the points of my rant.. Here are some reasons why I don't like you. I also got some pretty great fodder from some not-so amused dads. Apparently other moms are too nice to say mean things. I don't believe in "sticking together" if you can't fucking be nice. Go eat some mushy peas, mean-ass. Here are some letters to mull over while you stuff your judge-y face:
Dear 'Oblivious' Parent,
Is there any reason why you feel more inclined to talk shit about my clothes, my kid's clothes, or how I'm letting my kid/kids play on the playground, than pay attention to your own kid/kids? Because, I just want you to know, your kid has a face full of sand and something that resembles dog shit, and I'm not sure you care at this point. Oh, and while you were letting your kid/kids do shit like that, my kid was perfectly safe and happy and I was probably playing with her or watching her play like a fucking helicopter mom, you accomplished nothing by treating me like I'm on 'American Idol: Parenting Edition'. And your kid ate shit. I hope you get some all over your face because you still have no idea it happened. Like my top? I got it at fucking WALMART.
Dear 'Savvy' Parent,
I like your shoes. Were those on sale for $400 or $900? Oh, mine? I got mine at the fucking Dollar General. They were in the clearance bin for like a buck. With the money I saved, I bought my kid four new outfits, a new pair of shoes, and that bubble bath that costs more than all my beauty supplies combined. She likes it and it makes her smell like Jesus rubbed his awesomeness all over her. No, I don't mind that my shit looks old and ragged, because my kid has the best of everything and I work my fucking face off to make sure she never goes without. I like spending my money on her instead of me; it's the reason I'm a fucking GREAT mom. I may be on the lower-class side of life, but you'd never know that my kid doesn't have rich parents. I'm glad that you have lots of money, but why is your kid wearing Walmart while you wear Gucci? Thanks for making me feel like Parent of the Year. I needed that. My last pair of slacks that are work appropriate just ripped, and I was having a bad day.
Dear 'Awesome-Rack' Parent,
Congratulations! You fed your kid from your/your wife's boobies and not from a bottle. You achieved something so wonderful that the angels cry. Oh, me? Why didn't I breast feed my kid? BECAUSE I FUCKING COULDN'T! Thank you, though, for telling me I'm a terrible, no-good parent, and rubbing the glory of your success in my face. It makes me get this warm and fuzzy feeling deep inside my vag. I tried, and I was really down on myself for two fucking months because I couldn't have that bond with my kid. If you had bothered to ask before you sat on your titty pedestal, you might've saved some face. You just look like an asshole now. And, for the record, we bonded. We bonded the shit out of each other. That kid tells me every single day that I'm her best friend. She also got to bond like Gorilla Glue to her dad. It was awesome. We are awesome. Fuck you.
Dear 'Earth-Friendly' Parent,
I'm glad that you chose to use cloth diapers. That makes me happy for you, and I'm sure that you feel a little more righteous because you saved the fucking tree people or whatever -- awesome. I chose to use the diapers that I can throw away. It's my choice. I had enough shit thrown at me while my kid was in diapers, I didn't feel like dealing with washing them and drying them and wondering if shit was going to be stuck in my washer. Just because YOU did something, does NOT mean the rest of the world has to. Every parent has a choice and your way isn't always the only way. I know you feel this way because you're a martyr and you do so much good with your cloth diapers and your fucking ego, but no. Fuck that. You're not holy, you didn't save the tree people, and your washing machine probably smells funny. There, how do you like MY opinion? If it pisses you off, I did my job. Because you piss me off. A lot.
Dear 'Wow' Parent,
Your kid is not a testament to you. You kid is a kid; a human being. They aren't a prop. If you treat your kid like a fucking accessory, you're an asshole. You have no place to judge me or any other parent. You're the Paris Hilton of parents, and you suck. The end.
Dear 'Psycho Hippie' Parent,
Breast feeding your child when they're in pre-school is just creepy. I'm not doing it and it's not because I'm a bad parent. It's because I talked with my kid's pediatrician and I chose to go with her facts and not my own weird internet research. New age parents confuse me. If our parents fed us real food whenever we were ready, why can't you do that for your kid? You seem to be semi-stable and normal, meaning your parents did a good job with you. Why would you want to do something that isn't healthy for your kid for your own sake? You are also the 'Wow' parent.. making your statement. It's a really messed-up statement and I don't understand it, but it's there. I salute your decision in my own way. All I ask is that you stop telling me what's best for my kid.. because you don't know anything about her. You should also stop being so fucking high and mighty. No one likes people butting-in where they have no business sticking themselves in. I did what was right for my daughter, and she's a healthy, intelligent, well-adjusted little hellion that has gone through a lot in her three years of being alive. I think she's doing fan-fucking-tastic all things considered. If you think she needs formula at three, when it loses all nutritional value between 10-14 months, that's your opinion. Now, please go choke on it. Enjoy your day, you're very rude.
Okay, so the last one is from me.. but whatevs. I know a lot of parents feel like ass when other parents act like they've never had a breakdown, never had to deal with bullshit, never been stressed or tired, or they just have their fucking shit together all the time. I am calling you out, mean parents. STOP BEING SO DAMN AWFUL! Not every parent is the same, much like the children we rear. We all have different ways of coping with things and raising our kids. We were all raised differently. If you can't accept that not everyone is going to be as amazing as you think you are, you're a huge bag of ugly.
POWER TO THE COOL PARENTS!
We have meltdowns, we don't always like our kids even though we love them with every fiber of our being, we do the best we can with what we have, and our kids are the kids everyone wants to have. I love being 'Mommy' to my little tornado. She makes me mad, sad, tired, hyper, cry, smile, laugh, fuss, and amazed every time she comes into a room. I couldn't imagine my life without her in it, and I'm thankful every single day for her. I know I've had some days where I'm like "Baby Jesus, please give me a break!", but everyone has had those days. It's normal. It's called being a fucking parent. Try being a REAL parent sometime, judge-y parents.. you just might find it's a great experience. Also, when you try it and love it, apologize to the parents you've shit on over the years. Make our day.
07 January 2012
Happy Birthday, Old Man!
Today.. well, yesterday as of 13 minutes ago, is my husband's birthday. This is only the second time in the entire time we've known each other that we've been apart for it. I'm not sure how I feel about this.. I'm usually cooking his favourite meal, his favourite cake/cookies, and trying to keep the Munchkin from tearing his present open before he gets home.
It makes me sad to know that he worked all day and went to his apartment and was alone.. probably not eating anything because he's too cheap to buy anything/too lazy..
That, and the fact I found some things I had bought to cook for him while he was here on vacation that I totally forgot and now I feel like the world's worst wife because they're some of his favourite things.
Today was a rough day, but I did get the materials to register for yet another round of education. I am really hoping that this time I will finally be happy with my career choice. Maybe after trying Journalism, Marketing, CNA/CMA, Bartending, and Phlebotomy, Veterinarian Assistance will be where I'm happy. Let's hope that this bachelor's degree is the last one because, let's face it, school is costing me too much now.
So, Happy Birthday, Husband; now that you're old, I will still be here nagging and taking care of you. I love you more than you will ever know, though even I don't know why. I guess you're just a lucky man.
And, because I love myself as well, congratulations to me for making the decision to yet again drown in a sea of book, notes, used pens, and endless sleepless nights writing papers for the sake of higher education. I think I'm going to change my "works at" section on Facebook to "Career Student".
It makes me sad to know that he worked all day and went to his apartment and was alone.. probably not eating anything because he's too cheap to buy anything/too lazy..
That, and the fact I found some things I had bought to cook for him while he was here on vacation that I totally forgot and now I feel like the world's worst wife because they're some of his favourite things.
Today was a rough day, but I did get the materials to register for yet another round of education. I am really hoping that this time I will finally be happy with my career choice. Maybe after trying Journalism, Marketing, CNA/CMA, Bartending, and Phlebotomy, Veterinarian Assistance will be where I'm happy. Let's hope that this bachelor's degree is the last one because, let's face it, school is costing me too much now.
So, Happy Birthday, Husband; now that you're old, I will still be here nagging and taking care of you. I love you more than you will ever know, though even I don't know why. I guess you're just a lucky man.
And, because I love myself as well, congratulations to me for making the decision to yet again drown in a sea of book, notes, used pens, and endless sleepless nights writing papers for the sake of higher education. I think I'm going to change my "works at" section on Facebook to "Career Student".
29 January 2011
E-mail To An Asshole That I Will Never Send - Maybe
So I have this friend.. had this friend.. that used to be my, I don't know, best friend of sorts. She was the person I called anytime, anywhere, and talked to for hours at a time.. or until one of our phones died. She was always there for me no matter what was going on. I loved her like an extension to my family. My daughter loved her and even Ass-band loved her. It was the perfect friendship. I did all I could do for her, and helped her through all kinds of shit that I really didn't want to get into but that's what best friends are for and I loved her so I did it no matter the consequences.
And then, almost three years ago, she stopped talking to me. She's on my accursed Facebook, and she wouldn't even say hey if I tried to start a conversation. I'd long since been kept out of the loop when she changed phone numbers and I'd started to feel like a stalker for my once-a-month comments like "Hey XXX, I miss your face. Call me sometime and we'll catch up over coffee!"...
I don't want to feel like a stalker, so I stopped doing it about a year ago. Ass-band keeps asking about her, Melodrama sees her picture and asks me to call her, and my best dude friend always asks have I talked to her and I'm always having to walk around with a stupid look on my face and an eye twitch.
I tried to e-mail her the other day, but I couldn't bring myself to hit the send button. I've wanted to tell her so many things over the course of [almost] three years. I've wanted her to share in my joys and my sorrows, just like she used to. Our lives overlapped so much for so long that it was just natural to see my Sidekick glued to my ear no matter what I was doing. I think back fondly on the many years of friendship and tomfoolery, but the charade is over.
Here's the letter I decided to write and pussied my bitch ass out of sending. I'll share it with the blog world, and if she sees it and happens to know it's about her, so be it. Enjoy. I suck at writing letters, by the way.
XXX,
Wow, it's been almost three years! I found your e-mail in my address book, and I am hoping against hope that you didn't change this, too. I heard you moved and changed your number (well, read off your Facebook), and I tried to get in touch with you to get your new number and address for Christmas gifts and the likes, but you brushed me off. It kind of bothered me, but since I'm a pussy when it comes to my friends, I never said anything.
I changed my Facebook a while back, and you added me again. I was elated. I took that to be a good sign, and I tried to talk to you again. To no avail. That really hurt me, because I love you like a sister; I have told you things my husband doesn't even know and I have been there for you through good times and "I'm so depressed I'm going to kill myself in this manner" times.
Why exactly have you chosen to abandon the bond that we shared? Why have you come to ignore the one friend who never did you wrong? Was it something that was said -- or something that was not?
I guess being southern, a mother, and using boxed mac-n-cheese to make my husband happy made me not good enough, but your attitude and the way you've made me feel all this time kind-of tips the scales in my favour of being the better friend and better person. No matter how busy you think your life is, it doesn't even compare to any woman with a child, a job, a degree in progress, a husband, and a bird.. or some other kind of pet but still. All you have is you and your husband to worry about.. and he's a grown ass man who should know how to make a sandwich if you're busy with other shit.
Look, all I'm saying is that through all the hard times and the busy times and the times when I wanted to flat out drink myself into a coma for a month, I've tried to still be there for you. Where's your try? Fuck this shit.. I hate writing damn e-mails and I'm tired of coming up with nice ways to say:
Hope you're happy, hope you're well, hope you choke on a carrot. Seriously, eat a fucking dick unless you want to say hey and then I'll totally be excited and talk to you again because, again, I'm a fucking pussy when it comes to bitches like you. I think it's because you're cute.
All my best,
Kate
08 October 2010
Something Serious That's Worth Reading
October 12th is the 12th anniversary of the murder of Matthew Shephard. I was pretty young when it happened, but I still remember.
I was always different in a lot of ways. I was the fat kid with glasses and braces. I was the unattractive, socially awkward, outcast that had a few friends here and there, but none that were really solid. I always knew I was attracted to girls, as well as guys, but my family made it so "taboo" that I didn't voice the feelings.
My family..
There are a lot of bigoted people residing in my family -- something I don't like to admit. I come from the deep south -- southern belles, pecan trees, the works. My family holds true to the values of the "old south" -- no "fags", no "niggers". There are also a lot of open-minded people in my large family; we are a diverse group that tends to agree to disagree on a lot of issues.
With that being said, you can imagine that my "live and let live - it's not your place to judge" attitude set me apart. I believe that intolerance is just that - intolerance. There isn't a way to sugar-coat it and make it pretty. You can't tie it up with pretty paper and lace and make it any easier to look at. I believe that everyone is unique and beautiful; I believe that everyone has their own views and mannerisms that make them who they are -- make them special; I believe that it doesn't matter what colour you are, what religion you practice, or how you live your life -- though there are the normal things I find appalling: murderers, thieves, radicals; these people lead me to intolerance for what they do, but I'm sure everyone feels that way, right?
I've never lied about who I am, where I come from, or how I feel about life. I have covered certain aspects up to appease my extremely traditional family, which, in my eyes, is completely acceptable. I love them and I don't want to hurt them; being bisexual would hurt them.
But you should never have to feel like a freak for those reasons. Ever. I felt like a freak; I felt like I was "going to hell" for who I was and what I believed. That, my friends, is what intolerance does to people. I had to grow up feeling like the biggest failure alive - my problem with social settings probably had a lot to do with that.
What I'm trying to say is actually pretty simple. Don't be a bigot; don't hurt people just because they are different; don't tell someone who they love and what they believe is wrong -- it's not your place. Why is is okay for people to call members of the LGBT community "fags" and "queers"'; and tell them they're "wrong" and "going to hell"? Did you know it's a federal offense to call someone a "nigger"? That's racism, and that can land you in prison.
By definition, the word "nigger" basically means someone who is ignorant. Shouldn't the person screaming the word at others turn that insult around on themselves? Of course they should -- but they won't. You'll never hear a member of the Klan say "Hey, ya know what? They're not the "nigger", I am!". You'll never read where Hitler told his followers "We aren't right; They aren't bad people because they're not like us. We should change the name of our little 'club' from Nazis to 'Niggers'!".
You most certainly will not hear people who say terrible things about people who don't love they way they do refer to themselves as "niggers" -- you should, but you won't.
But back to the point.. Why is it a crime to slander someone for their race, but not their sexual orientation? People die every day because of small nuances that make them different -- yet nothing ever changes. Race shouldn't take precedence over orientation. They're all hate crimes, and should be treated as such.
I hope one day my child can live without fear of being who she is; I hope one day everyone will be equal; I hope one day I can tell my family who I am and not feel ashamed or like I'm killing them.
Don't Christians have the saying "Everyone is equal in the eyes of the Lord"?
I was always different in a lot of ways. I was the fat kid with glasses and braces. I was the unattractive, socially awkward, outcast that had a few friends here and there, but none that were really solid. I always knew I was attracted to girls, as well as guys, but my family made it so "taboo" that I didn't voice the feelings.
My family..
There are a lot of bigoted people residing in my family -- something I don't like to admit. I come from the deep south -- southern belles, pecan trees, the works. My family holds true to the values of the "old south" -- no "fags", no "niggers". There are also a lot of open-minded people in my large family; we are a diverse group that tends to agree to disagree on a lot of issues.
With that being said, you can imagine that my "live and let live - it's not your place to judge" attitude set me apart. I believe that intolerance is just that - intolerance. There isn't a way to sugar-coat it and make it pretty. You can't tie it up with pretty paper and lace and make it any easier to look at. I believe that everyone is unique and beautiful; I believe that everyone has their own views and mannerisms that make them who they are -- make them special; I believe that it doesn't matter what colour you are, what religion you practice, or how you live your life -- though there are the normal things I find appalling: murderers, thieves, radicals; these people lead me to intolerance for what they do, but I'm sure everyone feels that way, right?
I've never lied about who I am, where I come from, or how I feel about life. I have covered certain aspects up to appease my extremely traditional family, which, in my eyes, is completely acceptable. I love them and I don't want to hurt them; being bisexual would hurt them.
But you should never have to feel like a freak for those reasons. Ever. I felt like a freak; I felt like I was "going to hell" for who I was and what I believed. That, my friends, is what intolerance does to people. I had to grow up feeling like the biggest failure alive - my problem with social settings probably had a lot to do with that.
What I'm trying to say is actually pretty simple. Don't be a bigot; don't hurt people just because they are different; don't tell someone who they love and what they believe is wrong -- it's not your place. Why is is okay for people to call members of the LGBT community "fags" and "queers"'; and tell them they're "wrong" and "going to hell"? Did you know it's a federal offense to call someone a "nigger"? That's racism, and that can land you in prison.
By definition, the word "nigger" basically means someone who is ignorant. Shouldn't the person screaming the word at others turn that insult around on themselves? Of course they should -- but they won't. You'll never hear a member of the Klan say "Hey, ya know what? They're not the "nigger", I am!". You'll never read where Hitler told his followers "We aren't right; They aren't bad people because they're not like us. We should change the name of our little 'club' from Nazis to 'Niggers'!".
You most certainly will not hear people who say terrible things about people who don't love they way they do refer to themselves as "niggers" -- you should, but you won't.
But back to the point.. Why is it a crime to slander someone for their race, but not their sexual orientation? People die every day because of small nuances that make them different -- yet nothing ever changes. Race shouldn't take precedence over orientation. They're all hate crimes, and should be treated as such.
I hope one day my child can live without fear of being who she is; I hope one day everyone will be equal; I hope one day I can tell my family who I am and not feel ashamed or like I'm killing them.
Don't Christians have the saying "Everyone is equal in the eyes of the Lord"?
23 September 2010
The One Where I Give Husband A Whole New Nickname
So the other night, Ass-band reached a new level of mean. Which, if you know him, you're probably now sitting there going "OMGNOWAI! HOW?!"! And I would sit here and be all like "well let me tell you" and proceed to type out this blog.
Me: "You never laugh at my jokes anymore... it's like you don't think I'm funny but other people think I'm funny so what's your issue?"
Ass-band: "I laugh at you all the time!"
Me: "THAT'S NOT THE SAME THING!! I hate you!" *takes his shoe off and flings it into the yard while extending my middle finger*
Ass-band: *annoyed face* "Go pi--"
Me: "NO! STFU!!" *random AIDS hateful thing to say and another middle finger*
Me: *random trying to be normal conversation*
Ass-band: *something completely rude and stupid*
Me: "SEE?! You're such an asshole!"
Ass-band: "I love you - which negates the stupid shit I just said, right?"
Me: "You're a douche-y epic fail..."
Me: "I'm going to blog about how mean you're to me and everyone on the internet will see it and call you Ass-band forever! You're like a less productive lap band but you hang out on anuses all day. People will knooooooooow!"
Ass-band: "You don't need to write down every stupid and mean thing I do/say because you know I'm going to do it again..." (which what he really meant was "you don't have to because it would be repetition and then what kind of blog would that be? everyone will see you're really a freaking weirdo and they won't like it anymore and then you'll be sad and I'll laugh at you, not with you.)
Me: "The world is going to pwn you and call you Ass-band." *insert silence and a very disheartened facial contortion - which is what Ass-band calls my facial expressions*
Ass-band: "I'm goin' to poop - leave me alone."
Now, to clarify, he's not really going to poop because that would be too much information. He says that when he either doesn't want to do something, or he wants to shut me up. Which is mean because he'll sit there for half an hour playing solitaire on his phone, use half a roll of toilet paper (no, that's not an exaggeration) just to piss me off, and then make a glass of tea, spill it everywhere, and sit and play XBOX. It also stomps on our communication, which is key for a healthy marriage/relationship, and that makes me sad panda face it for hours afterwards. The spilling of the tea annoys me to no end, and makes me want to throat stab kittens; I love kittehs :( He also likes to scream random things from inside the bathroom and make Melodrama beg and cry and beat on the door for him and that is just wrong. If you want to hide out, don't antagonize the toddler.
So I look up from the outline I'm writing for a speech and realize he's been gone for a while, and it's already late, and I get kinna upset cause he wasn't planning on saying good night or anything. I go stomping off to the bathroom door and stand right outside it and this is the result:
Me: "Dude, seriously, what the fuck - not cool."
Ass-band: "Well I told you what I was doing..."
Me: "Yeah, uh-huh, I heard that. Were you gonna come say good night and pick up shit you left laying out? I'm your wife, not your maid - I work, too, and you said you'd help out if I made money."
Ass-band: "No - you know already so why are you bitchin'?"
(I AM NOT BITCHING! My concerns are legit, son >_<;;)
Me: "Why do you hate me????"
Ass-band: "I don't? If you want a kiss, get it while I'm poopin'!" *cue his weird/creepy laugh*
Me: "Go die, but pick up your mess first, mean ass!"
Ass-band: "I figured you'd get done with whatever you're doing and just come to bed..."
Me: "No, because I have to do all the stupid cleaning shit before I go to bed, remember?"
Ass-band: "Yeah, whatever, they're probably not even going to show up and then you did all that for nothing." *cue more maniacal laughter and a very sad face from me that quickly turned into a really angry face*
Mean. Ass. Man. The End.
So I get right up next to the door and wait for him to come out. When he does, I get right on his back and lean on him while he's walking and the following ensues:
Me: "I'm the weight of the trees that you just killed for no reason!! The trees and the money YOU wasted - FEEL MY WEIGHT SMOTHER YOU!"
Ass-band: "I don't even like trees, woman; They take up space and that space could be a parking lot. I like those better than trees."
Me: *dumb facial contortion* "You could be a parking lot..."
Yes, I realize, that was stupid and a terrible comeback. I'm an awkward reject, it's to be expected of me to say dumb things - though I'm usually the comeback queen so...
Ass-band: "Kate, really? How the fuck am I gonna be a parking lot? You're stupid."
Me: "Well, you can't, but you could be a speed bump and people could run all over you like you run all over my HEART!" *cue sad panda face*
Ass-band: "I spilled tea; you gonna clean that shit up or not?" *maniacal laughter and an ill-timed "I love you" cover-up*
Me: ... *silence and a really random facial contortion*
This has been an important PSA about Ass-band and his mean-ness. If you see this person, call him Ass-band and laugh at him so he's not right about no one liking my blog :/
Me: "You never laugh at my jokes anymore... it's like you don't think I'm funny but other people think I'm funny so what's your issue?"
Ass-band: "I laugh at you all the time!"
Me: "THAT'S NOT THE SAME THING!! I hate you!" *takes his shoe off and flings it into the yard while extending my middle finger*
Ass-band: *annoyed face* "Go pi--"
Me: "NO! STFU!!" *random AIDS hateful thing to say and another middle finger*
Me: *random trying to be normal conversation*
Ass-band: *something completely rude and stupid*
Me: "SEE?! You're such an asshole!"
Ass-band: "I love you - which negates the stupid shit I just said, right?"
Me: "You're a douche-y epic fail..."
Me: "I'm going to blog about how mean you're to me and everyone on the internet will see it and call you Ass-band forever! You're like a less productive lap band but you hang out on anuses all day. People will knooooooooow!"
Ass-band: "You don't need to write down every stupid and mean thing I do/say because you know I'm going to do it again..." (which what he really meant was "you don't have to because it would be repetition and then what kind of blog would that be? everyone will see you're really a freaking weirdo and they won't like it anymore and then you'll be sad and I'll laugh at you, not with you.)
Me: "The world is going to pwn you and call you Ass-band." *insert silence and a very disheartened facial contortion - which is what Ass-band calls my facial expressions*
Ass-band: "I'm goin' to poop - leave me alone."
Now, to clarify, he's not really going to poop because that would be too much information. He says that when he either doesn't want to do something, or he wants to shut me up. Which is mean because he'll sit there for half an hour playing solitaire on his phone, use half a roll of toilet paper (no, that's not an exaggeration) just to piss me off, and then make a glass of tea, spill it everywhere, and sit and play XBOX. It also stomps on our communication, which is key for a healthy marriage/relationship, and that makes me sad panda face it for hours afterwards. The spilling of the tea annoys me to no end, and makes me want to throat stab kittens; I love kittehs :( He also likes to scream random things from inside the bathroom and make Melodrama beg and cry and beat on the door for him and that is just wrong. If you want to hide out, don't antagonize the toddler.
So I look up from the outline I'm writing for a speech and realize he's been gone for a while, and it's already late, and I get kinna upset cause he wasn't planning on saying good night or anything. I go stomping off to the bathroom door and stand right outside it and this is the result:
Me: "Dude, seriously, what the fuck - not cool."
Ass-band: "Well I told you what I was doing..."
Me: "Yeah, uh-huh, I heard that. Were you gonna come say good night and pick up shit you left laying out? I'm your wife, not your maid - I work, too, and you said you'd help out if I made money."
Ass-band: "No - you know already so why are you bitchin'?"
(I AM NOT BITCHING! My concerns are legit, son >_<;;)
Me: "Why do you hate me????"
Ass-band: "I don't? If you want a kiss, get it while I'm poopin'!" *cue his weird/creepy laugh*
Me: "Go die, but pick up your mess first, mean ass!"
Ass-band: "I figured you'd get done with whatever you're doing and just come to bed..."
Me: "No, because I have to do all the stupid cleaning shit before I go to bed, remember?"
Ass-band: "Yeah, whatever, they're probably not even going to show up and then you did all that for nothing." *cue more maniacal laughter and a very sad face from me that quickly turned into a really angry face*
Mean. Ass. Man. The End.
So I get right up next to the door and wait for him to come out. When he does, I get right on his back and lean on him while he's walking and the following ensues:
Me: "I'm the weight of the trees that you just killed for no reason!! The trees and the money YOU wasted - FEEL MY WEIGHT SMOTHER YOU!"
Ass-band: "I don't even like trees, woman; They take up space and that space could be a parking lot. I like those better than trees."
Me: *dumb facial contortion* "You could be a parking lot..."
Yes, I realize, that was stupid and a terrible comeback. I'm an awkward reject, it's to be expected of me to say dumb things - though I'm usually the comeback queen so...
Ass-band: "Kate, really? How the fuck am I gonna be a parking lot? You're stupid."
Me: "Well, you can't, but you could be a speed bump and people could run all over you like you run all over my HEART!" *cue sad panda face*
Ass-band: "I spilled tea; you gonna clean that shit up or not?" *maniacal laughter and an ill-timed "I love you" cover-up*
Me: ... *silence and a really random facial contortion*
This has been an important PSA about Ass-band and his mean-ness. If you see this person, call him Ass-band and laugh at him so he's not right about no one liking my blog :/
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