I Bid You Adieu...to My TV Parents

First to Barbara Billingsley, who passed away at the ripe, old, age of 94 on Sunday, October 17, 2010.  She is best known for her role as June Cleaver, in the television program "Leave it to Beaver".  I LOVED "LEAVE IT TO BEAVER" WHEN I WAS A KID, and natch -- I loved June Cleaver.  I wanted her to be my mother (seriously, who didn't?)  She was beautiful and was always perfectly dressed in heels and her pearls.  She's the quintessential 1950's mom.  But I also remember her small role in the movie "Airplane" as the woman who "spoke jive".  If you haven't seen "Airplane" (and shame on you if you haven't), you really need to see it.  With so many memorable moments, Barbara Billingsley talking "jive" is hysterical.  Thank you, Ms. Billingsley for being my favorite TV mom.  Watching you on "Leave it to Beaver" gave my childhood a healthy dose of comfort food or chicken soup for the soul, or whatever the appropriate equilavent is for this situation.  You made me feel safe and happy and provided me with motherly love and affection even though we were seperated by many years and a television.  I always wished you were my mom.  The Beav and Wally were so lucky.  I doubt you would have beat my ass with a shoe or tried to drag me down the hallway by my hair.  I think you probably would have solved a lot of problems by baking a delicious batch of chocolate chip cookies, and you would have encouraged me to talk to you about my problems (and then not judged me by them).  *sigh*

And you rocked the shit out of jive-talking in "Airplane" which made me respect you all that much more.

Second, to Tom Bosley, who passed away today, at age 83.  He is best known for his role as Arthur Cunningham on the TV Program "Happy Days".  When I was in elementary school, I was a huge fan of "Happy Days" (I used to fantasize about marrying Fonzie).  "Mr. C" was my favorite TV dad, and I loved him because he always gave fatherly advice with a calm and collected head.  He was wise and his children loved him.  Granted, Mr. C got exasperated with his children every now and then, but he never called his kids "morons" or "idiots" and always gave them chances to make a bad situation better.  Mr. C was pretty kick-ass.  Thank you, Mr. Bosley for being my favorite TV dad and for giving your TV children good advice that I could sometimes work into my own life.  I think if you had been my dad, I would have turned out a little more self-adjusted, with a dash more self-esteem.  I doubt you would have called me "chubby" as a kid (because, let's face it, you're a little chubby yourself) and I believe you would have let me win at the video games we would have played together instead of beating my ass because you can't lose at anything.

Too bad TV parents aren't more like real parents, huh?  I'm sure a few of you out there agree with me.  ;)  You know that saying that "you can't choose your family"?  I'm hoping that if there's a heaven, we CAN choose our family...because my parents would be June Cleaver and Arthur Cunningham.  I hope their writers got Emmys for all the great advice they gave their TV children.  Because that shit was pure solid gold.

Adieu Babs and Tom!

Black Cloud Day

I thnk Johnny Cash about sums it up.

I'm in a FOUL mood today.  I think I can blame it on several things, and probably a combination of them all:  rainy weather, a bastard-Husband, and stupid fucking clients whose drama has worn my last nerve. 

So in the spirit of hating everyone and everything today, I've come up with a list of shit that I just don't give a fuck about:

1)  Who won "America's Got Talent"
2)  That "Big Brother" TV show (I didn't even know it was still being aired)
3)  Lady Gaga's meat dress (I will admit, I'm intrigued, but seriously.  I don't really give a fuck.  My intrigue only goes to the point of practical questions -- like what did she wear underneath her dress?  Did it stink like rotten meat?  How did it stay so red without turning brown?  Shit like that)
4)  Anything having to do with the "Tea Party" or "Tea Partiers" 
5)  Glenn Beck
6)  Republicans in general
7)  Whether my clothes were ironed or match today (they do, but I really didn't care if they did)
8)  Whether my boss gets irritated that I'm closing the door to my office today and not speaking to anyone (bitch just best be glad I'm doing work.  Well, not at this EXACT moment, but I will be workING when I'm done with this post)
9)  Other people's personal issues (I can't avoid this one, considering I'm a family law attorney, but I just want to tell everyone to take their dysfunctional shit elsewhere, but that would be bad for business, I think.  I have my own dysfunction to deal with, frankly)
10)  Last but not least, my diet

Don't take it personally, either.  I don't hate YOU.  Just everyone else.

It's That Time of Year Again...

I'm stuck in the middle!

It's August.  You know what that means?  It means my birthday is right around the corner!  August 12th to be exact (just so you know -- so mark your calendars). 

 

My last few birthdays have been sort of an emotional roller coaster of sorts.  I suppose this year will be no different.  It's number 39...which means I'm one year closer to turning that 40 number.  I don't really feel like I am 39, which is what everyone probably says as they get older.

 

I was laying in bed this morning.  Thinking.  Bed is where I do most of my thinking, and it's actually my favorite place to be.  I was thinking about Daughter and how she's entering the THIRD grade this year.  She's growing into a little person right before my eyes.  Like an actual REAL person, not just some little kid.  It's amazing.

 

I was also reflecting on this past year, because so much has happened.  I passed the Bar exam (finally), and got a job as an attorney, which, considering the Michigan economy, and considering there's like 400 million attorneys in Michigan, was a down-right true-blue miracle.  (It's also a miracle considering my shitty grades from law school.  We won't even mention how many times I had to take the Bar.) 

 

A lot has happened this year, since I last celebrated my birthday.  I don't know what I'm expecting this next year to have in store for me, but I'm hoping it's positive.  I have been on a roll of sorts, it seems.  I also think this might be the last year that I'm willing to turn another year older, officially.  I'm going to stop counting.  Also, please smack me next year if I say something like how "40 is the new 30" or some ridiculous shit like that.  Because you know that I'm going to --  shit people -- 39 is the new 29!  hahaha  I like that.

I'm sure when you check in on me next week for my birthday post I'm going to be in a tizzy.  I don't like getting older.  I mean, don't get me wrong.  I love the wisdom that comes with growing older, I just don't like the wrinkles (THAT REMINDS ME...I need to get a few Botox injections in my forehead!) that come with growing older.  I also could do without the aches and pains, and the fact that I can no longer do a cartwheel without throwing out my back or breaking my neck or something -- yes, I tried several months ago to do one (I used to be able to rock the shit out of cartwheels, I could even do them one-handed) and I hurt myself.  I forgot that I wasn't 12 years old anymore.

 

And those people that say "oh, it's just a number" are completely full of shit.  They're probably the ones that are in the deepest stages of denial about growing older.  So don't you dare try to sell me that crap when I start complaining about getting older. 

 

When I grow old, I want to be her!

I'm going to wrap up this rant by saying -- it's not that I think 39 or 40 is old, because I don't.  Especially since I'm walking that tightrope myself.  It's just that it's not YOUNG.  It's in the middle.  And being "middle-aged" is sort of gross-sounding all in itself.  I think I'd rather be old than "middle-aged".  Mostly because of all the cliches that come with middle-age -- like the "mid-life crisis".  Fuck, I'm just hoping I go through a mid-life crisis.  Maybe get a 25-year old boytoy, buy a sportcar and lose 100 lbs. so I can prance around the neighborhood in a bikini.  LOL  Wouldn't that be hilarious?  Too bad I'm too tired in my middle age to want to put any kind of effort into any of that.  Because it makes me tired just thinking about a 25-year old boyfriend or all the exercise and effort losing 100 lbs. would take.  *YAWN*

Comin' Outta My Head

Today's thoughts:

Lately, I feel like I've been falling down a big, dark, hole and I can't find my way out.  The depression feels like it's crushing me.  I was on a phone conversation with my best friend last night and told her that I couldn't think of one thing that gave my life a little sparkle.  UGH.  I hate feeling like this.  I've made an appointment with my doctor to see if I should adjust my medication, but I think the problem is much bigger than some adjustment in my anti-depressants. 

Mel Gibson is such a fuckhead.  I hope these taped conversations that his girlfriend recorded will be the final nail in the coffin that is his career.  I'm sick of seeing his stupid face on the television, and find him completely disgusting.  In every way.  Who knew Mad Max was such a racist, misogynistic asshole?  However, I do find the tiniest bit of delight in his quote of "you should just smile and blow me".  I think I'm going to have to make that little gem mine.  It's just filled with all kinds of awesome. 

Michigan has been going through a heat wave and I can't decide if I love it or hate it.  The past few summers really sucked ass -- it was a banner day if it got above 80 degrees.  I froze my ass off during the 4th of July weekends in the past -- wearing jeans, sweatshirts, etc. to watch fireworks.  This year, the weather has come back with a vengance.  Lots and lots of days in the high 80s and we even had a heat wave where the temps were in the high 90s.  Granted, I'm sweating my ass off everywhere I go this summer, but I think I'm kind of digging it.

My mom gets on my fucking nerves.  But you may had already known that.  If not, well, there you go.  I love her to death but seriously.  I'm one more guilt trip away from being committed to the psych ward.

I know I haven't given any client updates lately, and last night, I met a real kook.  She was 27 years old and came in with her mom.  She has a 3-year-old daughter.  The babydaddy took their daughter from the babymomma in early June and she hasn't seen her since.  She wants to sue babydaddy so she can get her kid back.  Seems relatively simple, right?  OH NOoooo.  During the conversation we find out that babymomma is bipolar, has previously been a heroin addict (and was on methadone when she found out she was pregnant), stole her mother's credit card (her mother prosecuted her), and has previously been arrested for retail fraud/shoplifiting.  There might be more that I can't think of off the top of my head.  OH.  She also has her driver's license taken away because she was driving on a suspended license.  Her license was suspended because she didn't pay a ticket or something.  I felt like telling her there's not a snowball's chance in hell that she's getting her kid back.  Especially, considering babymomma's mother is really the one who took care of the kid.  Like everyday.  I don't even want to get involved in this case.  It's a fucking mess.  But shit like this is what keeps me coming into work everyday.  Name another job where you get to deal with personal drama that doesn't involve a prison?  Maybe a psychiatrist/psychologist.  Other than that, I can't think of one.  And then I was getting all pissed off because here's this woman who can't even take care of her own child, and there's millions of people out there who want children and can't have them.  Ridiculous.

I've decided that I am never going to understand Men.  Ever.  And no offense to any of my male readers, but I think the world would be a much better place to live in if it were all women.  I remember reading a novel called "The Female Man" in college.  It was about a place, a utopia, where it was all women, and men were only used for breeding purposes.  My utopia would be a little different.  Men would need to be used for breeding purposes of course, but I'd also add doing any labor-intensive job (like farming or construction, you get the idea) and definitely for killing spiders (and other creepy-crawlies) in the house. 

What's been running around your brain lately? 

The Life Project, Take 1

Once again, I'm stealing blog ideas from Kim at Perfectly Cursed Life.  I'm pretty sure she doesn't mind, considering she's practically begging her readers to start their own "Life Project".  I figured since there's no time like the present...here is my first installment on my Life Project (which is basically my "bucket list" but with a fancier title).

1.  Learn a foreign language.  Preferably Spanish, even though I took two semesters of French in college.  All I can remember is how to say "J'suis American!" and "hericot verts".  Look it up.

2.  Visit the following places:  The Grand Canyon, Mt. Rushmore, Hollywood Boulevard, Washington D.C., the Liberty Bell, and New York City.

3.  Get off my meds.  Someday.

4.  Learn to drive a stick shift.  Although I don't know why this one is so damn important to me, considering I can get any car I want in an automatic transmission.  I think it has to do with when I went to buy a Mustang GT about 10 years ago, and all the salesmen (they were all men) sort of made fun of me for buying an automatic transmission in a "sports car".  Know what I said?  "Fuck shifting.  I just want to press a pedal and go for chrissake!"  My salesman took me to an empty parking lot and tried to teach me to drive one, much to his frustration.

5.  Learn to meditate and do it everyday.

So what's on your "Life Project" list?

A Meme

Kim at Perfectly Cursed Life tagged me in her recent meme.  And a "meme", for those of you that don’t know, is basically a survey that many people do and/or are tagged to do…).  Who knew?  Obviously, not me, considering I felt the definition was very helpful.  So onto my meme...



1. When was the last time you played air guitar? Come on, I’m not asking you to admit you still listen to Def Leppard.

OK, seriously...the last time I played "air guitar" it was to a Def Leppard song!  OMG I'm such a sad 80s nerd.  I was watching that horrible movie, "Balls of Fire" and during the final credits sequence, the main character (who looooves Def Leppard) was lip-synching and was totally all over the air guitar thing, so I decided to join in. 


2. What’s the oldest thing in your fridge?

I'm afraid to answer this question.  I think maybe there's some really old yogurt in the back of my fridge.  Either that or some moldy sour cream.  Ewwwww.

3. Vampires, zombies or please make it stop?

It ain't no secret I'm a huge fan of "True Blood" on HBO.  I'm all over the vampire thing in a big way.  "True Blood" would classify me as a "fangbanger". 

4. If you had to change your current profession, and could be anything, what would you do?

Well, if I had any natural talent, I'd want to be a rock star.  But considering I'm 1) tone-deaf, 2) clumsy as all hell, and 3) can read music...I'd probably fail miserably as a rock star.  Hence the reasons why I have not tried it thus far in my life.

5. Undergarment of choice?

This is a little personal, but seriously...panties ALWAYS.  There's no reason why a grown woman should be going commando.  Panties serve a purpose.  And that purpose is not just to prevent the occasional crotch-shots, but also to keep everything bundled up nice a neat.  I just feel weird without panties.


6. What is the tackiest thing you own?

Considering I am a model of good taste, I don't think any of my possessions are tacky.  But I'm sure I have some somewhere.  OH I KNOW.  When Husband and I were first married, good friends of our gave us a gift.  It was a ashtray in the shape of a common housefly.  It's black and the top, fly-body-part, opens up to reveal the ashtray part (and I swear, the thing looks just like this fly).  We still have it.  It's on our fireplace mantle.  So if you ever come by to visit, don't forget to look for it.  It's right next to the second-most tacky thing in my house, a small alligator head (don't ask).  Apparently, my fireplace mantle is the place we display all of our tacky shit.

7. Summer with no air conditioning or winter with no heat?

Shit, this is a no-brainer, considering the heat wave we've had recently.  Winter with no heat, for sure.  I can always add another layer of clothing to keep warm.  Keeping cool is not as easy.

8. Desert island time: Wow, there is a band that will play whenever you snap your fingers and OMG, it’s your favorite! Who is it?

Queen.  They were so fricken awesome.

I'm not going to tag anyone to do the meme, but feel free if you want and then hit me back and let me know you did it so I can read your answers too!

Wonder Woman's Makeover (Makeunder?)

I read this article today regarding Wonder Woman (the comic book hero).  And before you go thinking I'm this avid comic book fan, I'm not.  Not that there's anything wrong with being a comic book fan, I'm just trying to put this post into perspective for y'all.

Reading this article, I felt torn.  As a child of the 1970's, I was a humongo fan of the television show, "Wonder Woman", starring Lynda Carter.  (Yes, it's Lynda with a "y"...that's how much of a fan I am.  Look it up if you don't believe me.)  I'm torn because Wonder Woman will forever be burned into my brain as wearing those hotpants-that-are-frankly-not-hotpants-but-more-of-a-leotard.  She shouldn't be wearing PANTS of all things.  She should be flaunting her amazing Amazon ass in her hotpants/leotard and showing off her amazing body.  Fuck, if I looked like Wonder Woman, I'd wear that fucking leotard in public.  To Court.  With the Golden Lasso attached to my hip.  Say something.  Please.  So I can kick your ass.  "Wonder Woman! (sung to the tune of the TV show theme...look it up dammit!)

I don't think it's sexist that Wonder Woman's costume is a leotard.  She's hot.  And she's a superhero, so bitch best be in the tip-top physical condition.  Plus, lots of the male superheroes have codpieces or something that showcases their physique, usually in some sort of lyrca-spandex blend.  You can't hid any secrets wearing a lyrca-spandex bodysuit, any more than you can hid in a leotard.  Agreed?

Shit, Batman from the 1960s had a lyrca-spandex bodysuit and a pair of black panties over the bodysuit.  Granted, Adam West wasn't exactly a "buff" superhero, but seriously.  He couldn't hid anything in that grey bodysuit and black panties. 

What's next?  Isn't anything sacred anymore?

Comin' Out of My Head

Today's thoughts:

Who's that asshole that was on the news last night apologizing to BP (some asshole Senator or Congressman or someone)?  What a douche.  And I love how he backpetaled and retracted his apology.  His political staff probably shit a brick after his apology and then went spontaneously blind.  Hysterical.

I'm feeling particular lazy today and haven't gotten shit done at work.  Eh.  It's Friday, and dammit, I deserve to blow shit off once in a while.

Did I tell y'all that I got a new car?  I am the proud owner (actually, it's a lease...so technically, I'm a leasee) of a 2010 Ford Focus.  I've had it 3 weeks.  It's black and it's totally sweet.  I thought I would hate it considering I was driving a SUV, but it's pretty kickass.  It has the SYNC technology in it so I love calling people from my car.  For some reason, that shit hasn't gotten old yet, even though I was screaming at the SYNC yesterday because I was trying to call "home" and the voice recognition chick kept thinking I was trying to call "Paul".  Um...no.  "hhhhhhhhoooooome".  I wish I could have smacked the SYNC chick.

There's crazy whacked-out stuff going around here (i.e., work).  The legal secretary walked out today and screamed down the hallway of our floor "I QUIT!"  It was quite the bit of drama today.  She ended up coming back after a couple of hours, but I am getting tired of all the stupid drama that goes on around here.

I realized today that there are no good Mexican restaurants around my workplace and that pissed me off.  I love Mexican food.  And no, Taco Bell doesn't count.  I'm talking about the authentic Mexican food.

I'm so ready for the 4th of July holiday to come.  I am going to take a few days off before and after to have a mini-vacation.  I'm planning to go to Lexington, Michigan where my parents have a little cottage (in case you're not familiar, us Michiganders?  Michiganians?  whatever...we like to go "up north" to cottages -- so I'm going "up north" even though Lexington is like an hour away from my house.)  The cottage has lake access to Lake Huron (that is a pic from the beach I took on Memorial weekend).  I can't wait because it's peaceful and quiet and I can't get cell phone service there, so that's nice too (even though it frustrates the fuck out of me too). 

I hate Viagra commercials.  Especially those "Viva Viagra" ones that are to the tune of "Viva Las Vegas" by Elvis.  I just don't want to think about middle-aged men and their erectile dysfunction.  EVER.  Even when I'm middle-aged (which ain't that far off).  I can't imagine some wife out there, who's been married like 30 years, all thrilled to death because her husband can finally now get as many boners as he wants.  She's probably pissed.  Pissed as all hell.  And I understand men have to suffer through pad and tampon commercials, but seriously. 

My daughter asked me the other day what "breastfeeding" was.  As I struggled for an age-appropriate answer for about 3 seconds, she asked, "Is it gross?"  I answered, "You might think so."  To which she said, "Nevermind."  YES!  Dodged that bullet for the time being.

I'm not a big fan of moustaches...but this one is rather glorious, in a gross sort of way.  I mean, this dude is seriously dedicated to his moustache, don't you think?  He has to put a lot of time into that bad boy, that's for sure.

I love those Progressive Insurance commercials with Flo.  You've seen them right?  Some of my favorite quotes from various commercials...."It's called an "European Shoulder Bag" and "What am I thinking about right now?  Tacos?  YESSSSSSS...."  Love her.  It almost makes me want to call Progressive for a quote.  Almost.

Dang, I'm dying for some tacos now!

Whoa.

Can't tell you why this picture is in my possession, or who it is, but I needed to park it somewhere.  So here it is for all eternity and for your viewing enjoyment, if you're so inclined.

Hot. Damn.  Holyshitfuckingchrist.

Remember I told you I have a thing for stomachs and belly buttons? 

Um...Yeah.  Fuckin' A.  That right there is a body I'd give my child away for...well, not quite.  (although lately with the obnoxious behavior, I really had to think about it...j/k)

I Think I Need to Adjust My Meds

I feel like I've been on an angry rampage for the past several days.  I nearly snapped in two every night this week, and now I'm starting to wonder if the problem isn't everyone else, but is me.  I know, I know, it can't possibly be me...but maybe it is?

For example:  Monday night
I'm driving on my way home from work and Husband asks me if I can take Daughter to the video game store (a promise made to her by HIM) because she got a good report card.  He had been promising to take her for days, and on Monday, told her FOR SURE they would go on Tuesday.  He was too tired (or whatever) to take her on Tuesday, and was trying to get me to do it.

After pleading with Daughter to see if we could go Wednesday (she wouldn't budge), FINE.  I WILL TAKE HER.  Even though she was acting like the most OBNOXIOUS PERSON ON THE PLANET.  Like typical kid-shit.  Being sassy and smirking and shit like that.  You should know, when I'm not in the mood, being sassy and smirking and shit like that gets on my last fucking nerve and I swear I could snap and go on a murderous rampage, killing everyone in a one-mile radius.  So I was already on edge when we were getting ready to go.  Honestly, I wanted to fucking beat the living shit out of Daughter.  But we go buy the game and I bought some scrapbooking stickers (i.e., retail therapy) and I calmed the fuck down.  But still.  I was thisclose to snapping and killing my family.

Another Example:  Tuesday night
Daughter is playing her new video game and it's getting close to bedtime.  I tell her that she can play 5 more minutes and then she has to turn it off.  After giving her an extra 15 minutes, she starts arguing with me about turning it off until I yell at her to "TURN IT OFF!"  After she turns it off, she stomps upstairs and tattles to Husband.  Instead of backing me up, he asks me why I didn't just let her play another 5 minutes?  BECAUSE, MOTHERFUCKER, SHE ALREADY WENT 15 MINUTES OVER WHEN SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO GO TO BED?  Apparently, though, I'm the asshole because it's summer and Daughter "doesn't have to get up early to get to school".  No, she doesn't have to get up early to go to school, but she still has to get up early to go to her grandparents house.  And technically, she gets up in the morning at the same time as she did when she had school.  But no, I'm the asshole.  Me.

Another example:  Yesterday
I have been working late every night this week.  Yesterday,  I came into work and was thrilled to see my schedule clear (i.e., no client appointments, no court hearings) which meant I could tackle the ever-growing mound of work that has been piling up and piling up on my desk.  I get settled and am going through my work to prioritize it, and my boss flies into my office saying she needs my help on one of her cases.  You should know that she has been working on this FOR FREE.  The Defendant is her ex-husband.  I am working on shit for PAYING CLIENTS.  I tell her I'm buried alive.  She says she DESPERATELY needs my "help" and that it will only take "45 minutes".  An hour and a half later, I'm done "helping" -- and that help consisted of me proofreading her motion and brief.  THAT'S IT.  SERIOUSLY???  WHAT THE FUCK?  I had the biggest fucking attitude yesterday.  I'm pretty sure she just wanted moral support or whatever as she was working on this motion and brief, partly because it's dealing with a lesser-familar area of the law that what we practice everyday, but GROW-THE-FUCK UP.  Grrrr.

Another example:  Today
It's 2:25pm.  We have a client coming in at 5:00 to sign some documents.  My boss is supposed to finish drafting these documents before the client gets here (obviously).  She had an appointment with new clients at 11:00...which she ended up starting around 11:30.  THE PEOPLE JUST LEFT.  THREE HOURS???  Some other things you should know -- my boss loves the sound of her own voice.  (obviously again)  She best not pass the buck on to me to do those documents.  I swear I will spontaneously combust.  Or pop a blood vessel.  Or something akin to exploding.

Is it me?  Or am I just surrounded by fucking idiots and an overly-sassy child?  I need my meds adjusted.

Fallin' Out of My Head

My random thoughts lately:

When the fuck is someone going to stop all that oil from gushing in to the Gulf?  I mean, seriously.  This is ridiculous.  I almost feel like it's some fucking conspiracy to raise gas prices.  I certainly wouldn't be surprised.  It's been like 45 days or something...way to kill the ocean, BP. 

I saw (briefly) in the news that Miley Cyrus kissed a girl on TV the other day.  Or she *almost* kissed a girl at some entertainment function.  #1) Why is this news?  #2) Why is Ms. Cyrus intent on acting like some kind of slut (first the lap dance, now this?)  #3) What's the facination with girl-on-girl action anyway?  Y'all know it's FAKE girl-on-girl right?  I wouldn't think it was hot unless it was genuine.  Just saying.

I'm sad to see Rue McClanahan passed away.  I loved "Golden Girls" and now Betty White is the only one left.  Major frowny face.  Those ladies were hilarious.

Husband is getting on goddamm my nerves.  Wednesday, my Facebook was something like "I was driving on my way home and realized there was all crap music on my iPod.  I realized Husband must have deleted all my totally kickass music and replaced it with his lame ass music!  How DARE he?"  Husband doesn't have a Facebook account so he had to login to mine in order to see this post, which I meant to be sarcastic.  He didn't take it that way.  He bitched me out then said that I "embarassed" him.  Then he didn't talk to me all yesterday.  You know what I think of this whole thing?  I think he overreacted in a major way, and that he can suck my ass.  He's such a bitch. 

I'm listening to Pandora Radio -- to my "funk" station -- and every artist that has been played is black.  I started to wonder if the term "funk" also meant "black".  I mean, I'm not trying to be racist, but can white people create "funk" music, and if so, can you name a white "funk" artist?  And Eminem doesn't count.  He's a rap artist.  Chew on that.  (Update:  they played the Bee Gees.   I don't think they are true "funk" artists, though.  Right?)

My boss has not been in the office since Wednesday afternoon and I am lovin' it.  It's so quiet and calm around here without her.  Picture the Tazmanian Devil and his little tornado cloud.  That's her effect on this office.  I can actually get shit done when she's not here.  Bonus.

I had to teach my daughter about internet predators the other day.  She discovered how to play her Playstation 3 online (she is obsessed with "Little Big Planet") and one night this week she was playing with another person online.  I didn't think anything of it until we went to bed and she was talking about the kid she was playing with.  I asked her how old he was, and she said he was 9.  Nothing happened that caused me to worry, but it occured to me to warn her about weirdos out there in case the next person she comes across is some child molestor.  I told her to never give her name, address or phone number to anyone online EVER.  Because strangers are fucked up.  I'm glad I remembered to tell her and I thought it was very sad that this is the world we live in.

I love the TV show "Chelsea Lately".  Chelsea Handler is my kind of chick.  She loves the vodka (represent!) and she's snarky and bitchy and hilarious.  I watch her every night.  I am a huge fan.  Last night, she had the guy who wrote a book called, "Sh*t My Dad Says".  "Shit My Dad Says" is also a group or something on Facebook and it gets updated with shit this guy's dad really says.  Like this recent gem:  "No. Humans will die out. We're weak. Dinosaurs survived on rotten flesh. You got diarrhea last week from a Wendy's."  If you haven't found it on Facebook, please check it out.  You won't be disappointed.

Kristen Stewart is a dumb asshole.  I am so sick of her and her "anti-celebrity" bullshit.  And to equate being famous to being raped -- obviously, K-Stew (E! Entertainment channel calls her this, which is another reason I hate her) has never been raped.

It is gross I find Russell Brand sexy? 

OK, I better get back to work.  Have a fabulous weekend!

Crazy is a Relative Term

I've been thinking long and hard about which client I should post about, considering it's my first time to talk about my clients on the internet.  I came to the conclusion that y'all may enjoy meeting Mr. Tom Thompson*.

Mr. Thompson came to my office seeking custody of his daughter, Melody.  He has been divorced for roughly 10 years, and sole physical custody of Melody was given to his ex-wife.  Mr. Thompson enjoyed parenting time with his daughter every other weekend, every holiday, and all summer long.  Melody is about 13 years old.

In Michigan, in order to change custody from one parent to another the party requesting the custody change has the burden to prove that it is not only in the best interest of the child(ren) to change the custody, but that there exists a very good reason to change custody.  And I mean, it has to be A VERY GOOD REASON.  Because the courts don't look at changing custody arrangements very lightly.

So, what you may be wondering is what could be the very good reason Mr. Thompson gave me that made me want to help him?

Well, in layman's terms...his ex-wife is bat-shit crazy.  Literally.  Like she needs to be institutionalized.

Mr. Thompson then told me one of the most fucked up stories ever:

On or about April 25, his daughter calls him in a panic.  She has locked herself in the bathroom and asks him to come over to her mother's house to come get her.  She tells her father that her mother just tried to perform some religious ritualistic exorcism or something on her, where she held down Melody, sat on her chest and put a satin cloth over her head.  Mom then sprinkled some ashes or something over her, was doing some sort of chanting, and wouldn't let Melody up.  When she finally broke free, Melody ran and locked herself in the bathroom and called her dad.  Mr. Thompson went to get Melody right away, but also called the local police, who then in turn called Child Protective Services (CPS).  After arriving on the scene, the police did an investigation, made a report, and then Mr. Thompson and Melody had to go to the police station to meet with CPS.  Mom didn't go because she doesn't drive and apparently, no one would give her a ride.

CPS does their investigation and found there to be a sufficient emergency situation where Melody was to be removed from her mother's home and could go home with Mr. Thompson.  A day or two later, they did a full investigation and recommended to Mr. Thompson that he hire a lawyer and try to get full physical custody of Melody.

The story doesn't end there though.  A few days after that, another police report was made regarding Mom.  Mom was out walking her dogs and was walking around her condo complex.  Apparently, she also was carrying a loaded gun in each hand while she was doing this.  Luckily, her sister found her and called the police and no one was hurt.  At that time, the police arrested Mom and had her committed to a mental hospital for "evaluation".

NOW is where I entered the scene.  Mr. Thompson also told me that his ex-wife hasn't paid any of her bills in over a year, her home is in foreclosure, she burns all of her mail out in the backyard, wanders around the backyard and often kneels with arms outstretched and prays, and that the walls in her home are covered in Bible scriptures that Mom has written all over the walls.  She also had pictures of Melody in a circle she had drawn in her living room, with a pentagram inside the circle.

Do you hear the "Twilight Zone" theme song yet?

Now, I'm not trying to make fun of mental illness.  Really.  I feel very sympathetic toward Mr. Thompson's ex-wife, and even asked him if she was getting help (he told me her sister is trying to get guardianship over her so that they can get her some help). 

But daaaaaamn.  This story is fucked in so many ways. 

And in case you're wondering how it ends -- it hasn't yet.  I tried to file an emergency order to get Mr. Thompson custody of Melody but was informed today that the Judge assigned to the case wants me to file a Motion and that I need to somehow get the CPS worker to show up at the hearing.  I haven't quite figured out how to work that out, but I will.  I figure Mom won't show to the hearing since she burns all the mail, and never attended any of the CPS hearings.  It's obvious the woman is a few sandwiches short of a picnic.  I just need to get a final order in place with the court system.

On the bright side -- during all of this, Melody is safe at home with her father.  By choice, she has no contact with her mother and she is trying to work through a very scary experience.  I can't imagine how she must feel, considering your parents are the two people in your life that you should trust to keep you safe, and here her mother is acting all whacked-out.  I can only wonder at what she experienced in the months prior to making that call that night.  Mr. Thompson tells me Mom has been mental for about a year now.

I'll keep you posted on the case, and also introduce you to more of my clients in future blog posts.  Hope you enjoyed Mr. Thompson's story, because, seriously -- I did.  Just goes to show you that real life is so much more jakked than anything anyone could think up.


*Names and dates have been changed to protect the innocent, and more importantly, to protect my ass!

HEY EVERYBODY!!! ANYONE STILL OUT THERE?

I'm back y'all.

As you may have noticed, I have been very quiet as of late.  Partly because I'm super-busy at work and at work is where I do my blogging (as everyone should), partly because I've been feeling uninspired, and partly because I just don't think there's anything left to write about.

Boy, I was wrong.

I've been working for the past six months (can't believe it's been SIX months!) at a law firm, where I specialize in family law.  You know what that means, don't you?  It means I get some fucked up shit wandering in and out of this office.  From divorces, to child custody battles, I hear some whacked out stories.  And if you should know anything about me, it's that I LIVE FOR WHACKED OUT-FUCKED UP STORIES.  Especially other people's stories (mine are not that amusing to me, obviously).  I mean, this job is right up my alley considering I live for stories like the ones I get paid to hear!

I realized that I am living awesome material RIGHT HERE.  I also know that as long as I am not giving out personal information (like names and shit) that it's no breach of confidentiality to tell all of you about the crazy situations that I encounter. 

I'm going to get working on organizing a few of my most recent doozies.  Look for my next post when you'll be introduced to the wonderful world of being a family law attorney.

WHOA.

Please excuse me and the following two posts.  There are many, many typos and I think I rambled on a bit too much at a few points.  Last night, I took an ambien before bed then decided to write on my blog.  I barely remembered doing this last night, until I logged on just now and fear siezed my heart.  LOL  I mention killing my husband twice and I say various forms of "fuck" about 3,000 times.  If I didn't know better, I would swear ignorance to writing these posts.

But I'm going to leave them how they are.  Despite their typos and mispellings.  At that point in my ambien haze, I start to see double-vision and it's just lucky I wrote in (relatively) complete sentences.  I'd love to hear your comments.  Maybe I should write more while flying high on ambien?  You be the judge. 

And in case you're wondering...I went to bed immediately after writing these posts and slept like the dead.  I don't even remember stirring once.  That ambien is some wonderfully powerful shit, in more ways than one.  And yes, I have a legal prescription, so you don't have to worry the DEA is going to bust me in some illegal ring or something.  :)

Fuck You, High School Muscial....Can't wait to see all of you in 20 years!

I feel like I need to start a little weekly post, about celebrities that make me feel old.  My biggest fear when I was in my tween-and -teen-and then college years, was that I would lose touch with "cool" music.  I mean, I am a child of the 70s, so I got to experience disco firsthand.  I was a tween-teen in the 80s, which was just so awesome in itself.  Then along came my college years -- growing up grunge.  I adored Nirvana with all of my hear and soul.  But who's the Nirvana today?  Is there even one?  If so, would I like their music?

So there's my background about music.  Was a Debbie Gibson, Tiffiany, New Kids on the Block fan.  I tried to find substance behind the fluff, which is why this week's installment hurts twice as much.  I was watch "High School Musical 2" (please dont judge me...I do i for the kid, I swear) and was checkingout Zac Effron (I think tht's how you spell his name).  Well, cute, boyish, teen bait, Zach made me feel like a dirty old woman.  Because while I have never really bee attracted to him, he made me want to be in that fucking musical with him, jumping around and doing all the dumb shit they were doing.  DAMN YOU, DISNEY AND ALL OF YOUR CUTE TEEN MOVIES.  I swear Cute Teen Movies is a sign of the apoclypse.  It has to be.  Save your souls!  You've been warned.

I Stroked-the-Fuck-Out Today and No One Gave A SHIT!

was fit to be tied today. Wait…that’s not even strong enough to express the depths of my anger today….I was seriously ready to completely and utterly STROKE-THE-FUCK-OUT today at work.

My boss had three clients coming into the office – one at 3pm, one at 4pm, and one at 5pm. Not a big deal, right?

Well it because a nuclear fucking bomb when you try to pawn off 3pm appointment to another attorney in the office, who, he himself has a 4pm appointment coming. Oh, and did I mention the 3pm appointment was “running late” and didn’t show up in the office until 3-fucking-thirty? OH YEAH I WENT THERE.

The 3pm (actually 3:30pm now) gets pawned off on Asshole Attorney. I’ve decided I’m going to be calling him for what he really is everyone. He’s a direct descendent from a long line of assholes, I’m quite sure.

The the 4pm person comes. My boss and I are working on a HOT HOT HOT DO IT NOW NOW FUCKING NOW project, that apparently, if it doesn’t get done, the world is goig to blow up, and children are going starving or some shit. And it case you are wondering IT NEVER GOT FINISHED.  Fuck those hungry starving children, sister girl an't got time for you today.

Back to 4pm appointment who was finally graced by the resence of my boss at 4:40. The 5:00pm appointment ended up finally being seen around 5:40pm and all the while, my ass is completely held hostage in their estate planning process because I’m signing their all important testamentary documents as a witness.

Want to know what time I finally got the fuck out the office tonight? Don’t worry I wont make you guess. It was SEVEN-FUCKING-THIRTY at least. Give or take a few minutes. That work schedule should blow me or something to keep here there that late.

I drove home in a blind rage ready to schew the stearing wheel off of my car because I called Husband's cell phone and there was no answer.  Which meant I had to call the house number and USE PRECIOUS MINUTES FOR CALL THE FUCKING LANDLINE.  Of course, Daughter picks up and says "Daddy'a right here"klsdjlk;sfjaksl;fj;salkfjasl;kfjasl;kjfla;skfjal;skfj that is the steam coming out of my ears.  PICK UP YO MUTHAFUCKING PHONE WHEN IT RINGS YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.  DO NOT AVOID ME BECAUSE I AM YOUR QUEEN BITCH AND YOU WILL BOW TO ME.

You an imagine how our little family dinner when.  And yes, there were many apologize made BY me, but I didn't mean them.  I mean shit, people, I'm having one SUPER-CHARGED-FUCKED-UP DAY and you make no effort to kiss my ass, let alone cook your child dinner along with me, consdering your lazy fucking ass has been home for te last THREE GODDAMM HOURS. 

I have a feeling this post is going to either be great or come out like shit. I recently took an Ambien about 20 minutes ago and I’m loosing touch with my keyboard and my screen looks like wavy fabric.

All I really wanted to say when I start this rant is that I fucking understand those television shows with titles like “Snapped” and shit like that. Because I really feel there is going to be a day where I just stap. And I don’t mean I’m going to kill myself or my kid or something, or even anyone in my family (husband can breathe a sign of relief). Just something.

The Ambien is getting deeper and its making me harder to write. I was trying to ititiallly write about the rage I felt today but being high on Ambien softens the mood a bit, much to my chagrin. Although I’m sort of glad that my head isn’t going to explode off my head or anything, or that I’m going to stab Husband to death or something.

Don’t worry evernyone, I’m not a mental patient I just play one when I’m medicated. I’m even afraid to read what I’ve wrote so far, but I do know at least it should be interesting.

I was trying to captrure my rage and all I managed to capture what my rambling thoughts seen through an Ambien haze.

If Personalized License Plates are a Window to the Soul, Some People are Just Morons

As you may remember, I spend a lot of time on the highways of Michigan, commuting for my job. Last year, I had a really long commute – I had a job that was 50 miles from my house. You can probably imagine all the cars I saw along my way…after all, I do live in “The Motor City!” No public transport here. No carpooling, either.

I no longer have the job that put 100 miles on my SUV per day, but I do have a job that puts 50 miles on my SUV per day, so I am still in commuter hell (although now, I only complain half as much). I still see a lot of cars, and that means, I see a lot of personalized license plates.

I spend way too much time thinking about these plates, especially when the personalized message is something confusing, and not immediately recognizable. While I really can’t stand personalized license plates, I totally appreciate those people who put plain and simple messages on their plates. But just because I appreciate it, doesn’t mean I have to like it (as you’ll see).

Here’s a sampling of some plates I’ve encountered on the highways of Michigan over the past couple of months (I’ve been storing them on my Blackberry whenever I see them!)

BLUVWIF – OK, seriously? Anyone know what in the fuck this means? B “luv” “wif”? “Blu” VW if? Yeah, I’m still pissed at this motorist.

TMEBOY – right away, I thought this one was something like “Tomboy”, until I took a looksey-loo at the driver. He was a middle-aged white man. So maybe, “Time Boy”? It should have said “Fucking Asshole” because that’s what I think of that plate.

DFORTX5 – Puzzling. Something about this plate means “x5” I’m sure of it – I just don’t know what “DFORT” means.

ESCAPAY – I couldn’t decide if this one was cute or not. I found it on a Ford Escape, so I have spent many minutes of my life trying to decide if it meant “Escape Pay” or “Esca-pay”.

WRKS4IT – Works for it. Works for What? Maybe I don’t want to know.

AZMOUSE – A-Z Mouse. ? Are they referring to Mickey Mouse? What Mouse?  Is this a Disney reference?  Mighty Mouse.  I wish I could smack some sense into this driver.  How dare they make me ponder their stupid, fucking license plate.

OPA PK – Fuck if I know on this one. At first I thought it was a Greek reference – how Greeks will say “Opa!” (Detroit has a “Greektown” so there are a lot of people from Greek descent around these parts). But the “PK” part – it doesn’t make sense.

7TKGOD7 – Again, I only understand a partial message here, and I’m guessing it’s got something to do with God.

MRSA663 – Mrs. A663: Is that her call numbers to her phone-sex line?

CMYSSGO – See my SS go. This person was driving a “SS” version of some-type of SUV.

SMILEMI – Smile Michigan! FUCK YOU.

JONSGT – Jon’s GT. He was in a Mustang GT, and I have to admit, I was quite jealous of Jon because that car was off the hook.

I'd like to know what some of you think these puzzling and nonsensical license plates mean.  Feel free to comment and let me know your ideas!

Shit On My Mind (a.k.a. I'm Forced To Think About This Stuff Because It's In My Face)

I have this friend on Facebook who is driving me crazy with her recent posts.  Apparently, she has recently received a medical degree (or a subscription to Prevention magazine) because she has been posting little tidbits that have become The Things That Make Me Go Hmmmm...

I don't mean to be an asshole by complaining about these posts.  Actually, I don't particularly care if I do sound like an asshole, because DAMMIT, this is America and this is my blog and I can say whatever the hell I please, right?

So here is a short sampling of the wealth of knowledge she has bestowed upon me (and now you).  Please feel free to share with all of your Facebook family.  I'm guessing someone will enjoy her public service announcements.  Me?  I could do without them.  Or without 500 of them.  Too much of a good thing pisses me off.  I mean, motherfuck.  The following status updates were only from the last TEN HOURS.

"Bananas contain bromelain, an enzyme thought to boost male libido. Don't like bananas? Pineapple is high in this sexy substance, too. (It even helps reduce joint pain.)"  posted 59 minutes ago

"Had my yearly inspection! Now, I need to call & make my mammogram appointment with doctor's orders. Just want to remind everyone... and MAKE SURE EVERYONE GETS THEIR ANNUALS OF EVERYTHING YOU NEED CHECKED ON! MALE & FEMALE!"  posted 3 hours ago

"Asparagus is an aphrodisiac. This delicious veggie is rich in vitamin E—a key nutrient for hormone building. (It's great with olive oil, garlic salt & pepper...put it in some aluminum foil and pop it in the oven or on the grill! I have this all the time.)"  posted 10 hours ago

FACINATING, RIGHT?  And yes, I know I have anger management problems.  Why in the fuck do you think I take medication????  :)

And for the record -- I hate asparagus.  Anything that makes my pee smell like something non-pee-like is not welcomed in my dietary plans. 

I'm Keeping Up with the Kardashians

OK, fine, are you happy?  I've finally confessed I'm a closeted fan of "Keeping Up with the Kardashians".  There.  I said it.  I feel better now that my secret is out in the open.  So now, let's dish about those wacky Kardashians...

Is it wrong of me to be completely grossed out by Kourtney Kardashian shamelessly wearing the body hugging dress she was wearing? I mean, you could see every bump on her body! Whatever happened to pregnant women wearing shapeless dresses? Honey, we all know you’re pregnant, but DAMN I don’t need to see every curve of your pregnant belly, and every curve of your buttcheeks.

This reminds me – I am also completely grossed out by pregnant bellybuttons that stick WAY out. I’m sorry ladies if you or someone you love had some crazy alien bellybutton when you/they experienced pregnancy. Thank the Lord – I was blessed with an bellybutton that just stretched for 1,000 miles and stayed completely intact.

In another tangent – I have a thing for bellybuttons, so maybe that is why pregnant, extended ones gross me out. I love a male bellybutton set on a fine set of washboard abs – like the ones here on sexy Ryan Reynolds…HOLY SHIT, RIGHT? I actually don’t mind a cute “outie” bellybutton. I only mind them when they stop looking like bellybuttons and start looking like very tiny penises.

So back to the Kardashians. Other things I must confess about this TV show – I think I have a non-sexual crush on Kim Kardashian. She is so BEAUTIFUL – I am in awe whenever I see her and just want to stare at her because I think she is just so darn pretty. Beyond pretty. Beyond beautiful. She’s just simply perfection. I am obsessed with her hair and makeup and outfits. I think part of the reason I tune into the show is just to see her. I even think her mother – Kris Jenner is stunning. It’s just unfair that some people are blessed with the right combination of genes, isn’t it?

And what the hell is wrong with Kourtney’s baby-daddy, Scott? This episode I saw last night – he got rip-roaring drunk and proceeded to make a giant ass out of himself. And when I say “giant-ass out of himself” – I mean an even bigger one than the one he makes out of himself on a daily basis. Way bigger than that. It’s like 10x bigger than that. The show ended with Kourtney changing the locks on her house and locking Scott out. Perfect.

Ranting and Raving

I need to vent, y’all. First, I must qualify this rant by saying, I love my new job. I really do. OK, that being said…


My boss is driving me nuts today. First off, I had to wake up early today (and if you knew me, you’d know I am no where near a “morning person”. I had to wake up early today because I needed to meet my boss, and two other people at the office at 8:50 a.m. and was told NOT TO BE LATE. Don’t you dare be late.

Guess who called me at 8:55 a.m. to tell me she was running late? Yep. My boss. The mission we were on today ended up being delay a motherfucken HOUR because she was late. Which means I didn’t need to get up early and haul my child out of bed early.

So.

Next, we go on our mission. Which ends up taking FOUR HOURS. And one of the other attorneys in the office had to take the client that was coming in to see me today who happened to be a friend of Husband’s. THE ONLY REASON THE MAN WAS COMING TO MY OFFICE WAS TO SEE ME AND I HAD TO HAVE ONE OF MY COLLEGUES TAKE HIS APPOINTMENT BECAUSE MY BOSS WAS TOO BUSY JACKING ALL OF US OFF ON OUR MISSION. I was pissed.

We finally make it back to the office and I have a 2:00 p.m. appointment coming in to sign her divorce documents. The very same divorce documents that I had spent about 3 hours of my time last night after I got home from work writing up, because I knew I wouldn’t have much time today to work on them at the office. THANK GOD I did that because I wouldn’t have had them done. But since I am a new attorney, my boss needs to review them. WHICH SHE HASN’T DONE YET. It’s fucking 2:09 p.m. My appointment is on her way (thankfully, she is a little lost) and I’M FREAKING OUT BECAUSE MY GODDAM DOCUMENTS HAVEN’T BEEN REVIEWED AND MY BOSS ACTS LIKE IT’S NO BIG DEAL. I don’t want to make the client wait. I want to get her out of here ASAP. MOTHER.FUCK.

Thank You to All My Followers....

I just realized that my title sounds like I'm some televangelist or cult leader or something..."my followers"...

Any-WHO, what I really wanted to say was a very humble "Thank you" to all of you who took the time to click that button and "follow" my blog.  When I started writing this, I didn't think anyone but a few close friends would read it.  I didn't think anyone would really give two shits about what I had to say.  And I am not trying to say YOU give two shits either -- but the fact is that you are on my list and at one point in your life, you read the words I wrote.  So...thanks for that.  I feel honored to have you here and I hope I get rid of my writer's block sometime very soon and write some realy witty and hilarious words.  My awe was prompted by the fact that I actually have 30 of you following me.  And only like 3 of you are IRL friends of mine (In Real Life).  I'm also flattered that some of you are international friends.  So thank you, gracias, merci, danke....

I Can't Resist...

Remember I posted about Gary Coleman the other day?  Well, seems I just ran across his mug shot the other day, and seriously....YIKES.  Dude is S-C-A-R-Y.  What happened it that cute, little cherub who said things like, "What you talkin' about, Willis?"  I miss that Gary Coleman.  He needs to embrace the fact that everyone remembers him as a child (typecast) and just run with it.  For Chrissake.  I'll never be famous.  I'd love it if all of America remembered me as some cute, chubby-cheeked little angel.  Wouldn't you?

<---------Gary Now

Gary Then ------------------------->










WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED????

Rants About Stupid Men (Keep it in your pants, fellas!)

Happy Groundhog’s Day, y’all! Punxsutawney Phil has predicted 6 more weeks of winter. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it? I haven’t gone off on my rant about how I hate winter this year, so I guess it’s been a better year weather-wise. But just because I haven’t gone off on my I hate winter rant, doesn’t mean I don’t have plenty-o-rants to go around…

John Edwards. SERIOUSLY, JOHN? Not only do you have an affair on your wife while you are running for President, you have an affair on your wife who is battling STAGE 4 CANCER. And not only do you cheat on your DYING WIFE, you are fucking your videographer who is making a CAMPAIGN DOCUMENTARY. And not only are you fucking your videographer who is making your PRESIDENTIAL campaign documentary, you GET HER PREGNANT. And not only do you get your presidential campaign videographer pregnant, you try to keep her quiet with money paid to her from your PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN FUNDS. And not only do you get your campaign videographer pregnant and pay her off with campaign funds, while your wife of THIRTY YEARS is battling STAGE FOUR CANCER, you then DENY you’re the father of her baby. And not only do you deny you’re the father of her baby, you get someone in your campaign staff to LIE and say HE’S THE BABY-DADDY. And folks, just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse – now the news has reported there could be a possible JOHN EDWARDS SEX TAPE. HOLY-FUCKING-CHRIST. My head about exploded with that news. I mean, thank GOD this man never made it to the White House, because he OBVIOUSLY has a problem making any sort of WISE DECISIONS. He cheats on his dying wife, he doesn’t practice safe sex, he lies about paternity (which we all know can be solved with a quick trip to “The Maury Show”), he gets someone in his inner-circle to lie for him about PATERNITY, and THEN MAKES A SEX TAPE TOO? Honestly. I’m reeling over the fucked-up-ed-ness of the whole thing. I can understand trying to cover your ass through this whole ordeal and trying to backtrack and do damage control, but COME ON. Some days it’s just better to come clean and move on.

Tiger Woods. I’ve refrained from ranting about Tiger in this blog, because, really, what could I say that hasn’t been said by others in a funnier way? But c’mon, Tiger. Last I heard, the count of his ladies is now at 19. REALLY, TIGER? You wife is a hot piece of ass and you can’t be a little more discreet? NINETEEN WOMEN? Fucking-A. I could probably forgive one or two. But NINETEEN? If Elin goes back to him, you know that bitch is only doing it for the cash. And frankly, I can’t blame her. I hope she spends it like a motherfucker.  The best part of this whole scandal for me, was when Tiger said (in a text message to one of his Ladies) that he was so irresistable because he was "blasian".  I fucking died.  It was all too delicious.

And all you guys out there -- don't worry.  I'm not picking on your gender (even though it probably feels like it).  I am already working on my "Rants About Stupid Chicks" as I write this.  (Well, not really, but I thought if I said so it would make you feel better and make me look less like a man-hater.  Which I'm not.  Really.)

In Case You Didn't Want to Read Sarah Palin's Book...

...but wanted to know what she wrote about, please, please, please check out Margaret and Helen's blog.  Helen is recapping "Going Rogue" in only the way that Helen can.  The woman may be in her eighties, but damn, girl, you're funny.  And when I say "funny" -- I mean HYSTERICAL. 

So there you go.  I'm shamelessly plugging one of my favorite blogs.  Sometime last year, she also read Ann Coulter's latest book, in case you were interested in that recap.  It was so funny, I literally laughed out loud.

Helen is a raging liberal, which is exactly how I like my liberals, thankyouverymuch.  Enjoy.

Random Thoughts to Entertain You

Isn’t it funny how you can be surrounded by people yet feel so alone in the world?


My addiction to Farmville has waned. I’m still a dedicated farmer, yet I am not obsessed with it like I was.

Daughter is obsessed with making up songs about pooping and peeing. Yesterday, she amused herself for most of the day recording songs on Husband’s new Blackberry regarding these topics. I’m half tempted to let her record one on mine and set it as my ringtone.

As you may have inferred from the above statement, I finally broke down and bought a blackberry. My cell phone contract ended a couple of weeks ago, so I decided to leap into the next decade on the cutting edge of smartphones. Granted, it’s no iPhone, but I’m morally against iPhones, so a blackberry was the next best thing. My problem with iPhones is that everyone has one or tries to convince you how great they are, so I immediately want to buck the trend. I’m like that.

My new job is awesome. It takes up so much of my time, but that’s a good thing because I have no life anyway and it’s not like I need all kinds of free time. (No sarcasm intended here. Really.)

My dad’s aunt passed away a week ago and her visitation and funeral were this past Friday/Saturday. Was it wrong of me to pull a no-show? I wasn’t close to her and probably haven’t seen her since my wedding 14 years ago. She treated my dad like crap and I just didn’t want to be bothered.

Sometimes it’s better not to wear your heart on your sleeve.

Husband drives me up a wall sometimes, but last night I was reminded by a friend of mine on Facebook, that sometimes things could be worse. My friend took a job in New Orleans because the job market is so bad here. He left his wife and three daughters. Last night, he posted a status message that said, “Two hours and 11 minutes on the phone with the love of my life, and it still wasn’t enough.” They’ve been married over 12 years. (*tear*)

I have had Lady Gaga’s song, “Bad Romance” stuck in my head for the last several weeks. It’s driving me INSANE. Damn that woman for making a overly-catchy song. It’s the fucking “Ra-ra ooo la la, ra-ma, ooo ga-ga” shit that keeps running through my brain like a wildfire runs through the hills of dry California in the summer. I can’t decide if I should just give into to it and sing it out loud like a lunatic or if I should keep the lunacy to myself.

Ever need a friend and they’re not there for you? I hate it when I call my friends over and over and I can’t get a hold of them. Especially when I have an issue that appears to be life or death and I need a friend to talk to. Although I must admit, I have the ringer turned off on my phone and have missed a friend’s emergency a time or two. Ooops.

What the hell is the matter with Gary Coleman? Looks like the guy needs some anger management classes? I’m always disappointed to hear stories like this about him because I used to love “Different Strokes” as a kid.

Does anyone really give a shit about Brad and Angelina?

Saw my mom last weekend and she took me to a cosmetics store. She ended up buying me a bunch of make-up – and then told me at the checkout counter that since I’m a lawyer “now”, I need to look more “professional”. WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?

I need to get my car washed in the worst way. I’m now officially embarrassed to drive it because it’s so dirty. But I consider it a waste of money to go to the carwash because the weather is so wet and crummy around here, all it is going to do is immediately get dirty again.

Update: 2010 Thus Far...

I must apologize once again.  I have neglected this blog.  I have been so busy with living life lately, I haven't had time to write.  Hopefully, I will find more time in the days, weeks and months ahead to write, but until then, I owe you -- all of my wonderful readers -- an update as to what has been keeping me away from making you laugh.

Besides the regular holiday "I'm so busy shopping and cooking and visiting" -- in the midst of all of that -- I found a new job!  As some of you remember, I passed the Bar exam this past fall and can now officially call myself an attorney.  In that spirit, I found my first attorney job!  I am really excited.  And it's sort of a funny story of how it all happened -- not funny "haha" but more serendipitous than anything else.  After losing my job around Thanksgiving, and the economy being what it is (READ:  THERE ARE BARELY ANY JOBS OUT THERE, PEOPLE!) I was thinking about starting my own little law practice.  I remembered I had a friend on Facebook who, I believed, had started her own law practice, and I messaged her.  From that message came meeting for lunch, and from that lunch, came a job!  I am now working in HER law practice, doing mostly family law (divorces, child custody, spousal support) and probate things (wills, trusts, conservatorships, etc.)  I am really very happy right now with where my career is and where it could possibly go.  My workday flies by, and I feel like I am helping our clients, which really, is the whole reason I wanted to be a lawyer in the first place.  My only complaint is that the money I am making is total shit.  But even that is not enough to rain on my parade, so to speak.

This new job keeps me very busy and I'm putting in 9 and 10 hour days.  By the time I get home, I am exhausted and mentally drained.  I don't feel like getting on my computer and being witty.  So I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me (I'm sure you will, don't make me break out the puppy-dog eyes), and hang in there with me.  I am still trying to find a balance between work, my personal life and my writing.  I will find it too, I'm sure of it. 

I've had family drama (seriously, does it ever end???) -- my dad has had some medical problems for the past few weeks, in which the drama with that began Christmas Day with me placing a phone call to 9-1-1 and calling an ambulance to my house because he had a nosebleed that wouldn't stop.  After bleeding profusely for nearly 20 minutes, I placed the call and the paramedics showed up and carted him off to the hospital.  My mom when after him.  He's ok, in case you're wondering.  He ended up having surgery last week where blood vessels in his nasal passages were clamped. 

Then there has been some ongoing drama with my brother.  I don't even want to get into it -- but once again, he's ruining his life with drugs and alcohol.  Sadly, I have a feeling that I'll be attending his funeral someday soon.  He's always had problems and can never quite get his life on track.  He's also very resentful and jealous of me, because as he would put it -- I have gotten every break and he has not gotten any.  Which couldn't be farther from the truth.  The fact is I have worked for where I am in my life and he thinks shit should be handed to him on a silver platter.  It's just sad and it should be a story saved for another day. 

And the cherry on top of all of this family drama?  My brother's former fiancee has now gone on a few dates with one of Husband's younger brothers.  I love this girl to death and would welcome her into my family any way I could.  My brother doesn't know, but my mother does and she's OK with it.  If a serious relationship comes out of this I don't know how everyone will react -- my inlaws or my dad.  My brother will flip, I'm sure of that.  I would be very happy and so would Husband.  And Daughter would shit a brick, because she LOVES this girl too.  Crazy, huh?
So what have you learned here today?  You've learned that:

New Job + Long Hours at Work + Family Drama = No Blog Posts

And to put my lack of time in perspective -- I didn't even make any New Years' Resolutions this year.  Right now, though -- here's my first one -- TO BLOG MORE!  :)