Reboot 2.0

I have been thinking about this blog lately, and how I've neglected it.  I've been reading through a lot of my past posts, and it seems that I had a lot of anger and depression in years past.  Tempered of course, by sarcasm, which is probably my saving grace.

A lot has changed since my last posts.  I am now a working attorney and have my own firm, shared with another attorney.  We are partners in our practice, and I enjoy working with her.  I've known her for several years, and it has been about a year and a half since we decided to make it official and merge our independent businesses into one, fabulous, partnership.

My daughter is now 13 years old -- a teenager!  Reading past posts when she was 6 and 7 years old made me smile because I was glad I had the hindsight (foresight?) to write a bit about her, instead of focusing so egocentrically on myself.

Still married to Husband -- last year we celebrated our 20th wedding anniverssary.  Hoorah for love.  He still bugs the everloving shit out of me, but really, who's to blame with that?  Him for doing it, or me for putting up with it?

I want to start writing again, and am hoping that now that I recovered my password, I'll be able to do just that.

Stay tuned...

I Confess...

 

1)  I confess...I never liked the hit sitcom, "Friends".  Gasp!  And when I say "I never liked" it, I mean, I detested that show.  Even though I'm pretty sure that I was their target demographic, and everyone in the whole fucking world circa 1995 loved that goddam show.  I hated Rachel.  I hated Ross.  I hated Rachel and Ross together, I hated Rachel and Ross breaking up.  Yes, I've watched it.  I've tried to like it.  But that show can blow me, because it was just stupid.  The only character I even remotely liked on that show was Phoebe.  And she was probably the one who got the least lines and Lisa Kudrow probably got the least mileage out of that fucking disaster.  Well, I guess I can't really call it a "disaster" because, like I said, every goddam person in America was going apeshit over "Friends".  To me it was a disaster, though -- one that lasted too goddam long. 

2)  I confess...I love pizza.  I am sure this isn't much of a shock, because I know a lot of people love pizza.  But I love all kinds of pizza, and if I owned a restaurant, it would have a pizza theme.  I mean, there would be peanut butter and jelly pizza, dessert pizza -- everything pizza.  The Husband loves pizza too, so we are both always on the hunt for new pizza places to go to.  I think I've sampled pizza in a 50-mile radius from where we live.  Sometimes it's hard to find good pizza.  I mean, if you're going to own a pizzeria, don't phone that shit in.  Make a good crust.  Make a good sauce.  That shit is your bread and butter, and the least you could do is make a worthwhile pie.  Pizza I hate:  Domino's.  That is pure shit.  Even with their latest reboot.  I'd rather eat a frozen pizza.

3)  I confess...I really don't wear my wedding ring a lot.  There are several reasons for this:  a) a few years back, The Husband stopped wearing his all the time, so in protest, I said I was going to stop wearing mine everyday.  Yeah, yeah...petty, I know.  But WTF?  b) I gained weight, and the ring didn't fit comfortably anymore and I needed to get the ring resized (which I have done).  I do wear it (when I remember to put it on) for family occassions and whatever.  But it's just not that important to me anymore.  There's probably some deep, dark, reason why I choose to not wear it, but it really isn't that important to me to figure out why.  Especially when I paid to have the damn thing resized but still don't wear it.  Or at least not on a regular-never-take-it-off basis.

What would you like to confess?

I Confess...

In my effort to try and get some weekly topics to discuss, I introduce my "I Confess..." series.  Besides the title, I've found this little .jpg to accompany my weekly posts:

Now, before I begin my confessions for the week, I think I need to discuss "confession" itself.  You may know that it is a big part of being a Roman Catholic.  So much so, there's an app for that:

 



Personally, even though I am a "baptized" Catholic, I was married in a Catholic Church, and even baptized my own child Catholic, I am not a practicing Catholic and I've never been to confession.  I really don't know a lot about "being" Catholic, other than being able to check that box if asked.  Truthfully, while I don't agree 100% with what doctrine the Catholic Church believes, I do enjoy going to Mass.  The thing I like best about it is the routine of it.  I find it comforting.  But back to the confession thing.  One of the main reasons I haven't been to confession is that I find it kind of stupid.  I mean, if God is omnipresent, hasn't He seen all my sins?  Why do I need to go tell someone else?  I tend to think it's jack-off material for priests.  (Sorry.)  Especially if there's some really juicy, sexy sin involved.  (Sorry again.)  Besides, at this point in my life, my sins are kind of boring.  I like saying "goddammit" and I've lusted in my heart for a few of the cast members of "Magic Mike".  That's about it.  I haven't killed anyone (recently), I don't covet my neighbor's wife (or husband for that matter), and I haven't been thieving lately (or ever).  I've stopped overeating due to my recent membership to Weight Watchers (so you can cross off "gluttony"), and as far as the other 6 deadly sins -- envy...nope.  Except maybe Jessica Biel, and not because she just married Justin Timberlake, but because bitch wore a PINK wedding dress.  MY COLOR IS PINK.  I wish I would have thought of that.  Greed...nope.  I don't think I'm greedy.  I donate to worthy causes and I'm a generous gift-giver.  Next comes wrath.  What exactly does that mean?  I'm bitchy sometimes, and I will (often) say things that others won't say due to politeness, but wrath?  If we are speaking of anger, then yes, I suffer wrath sometimes, but as you may know, I've been taking my anti-depressants, and they are a great help with my anger, or wrath.  

 

That covers four of the deadly sins -- the last three are lust, sloth, and pride.  Hmmm.  Lust?  Yeah, ok, you got me there.  As aforementioned lust of a portion of the "Magic Mike" cast -- guilty as charged.  Sloth?  Yeah, I'm a bit slothy at times.  I mean, I'm not marathon runner, that's for sure.  I gotta work on this one.  Finally, comes pride.  I don't think I'm prideful, that's for sure.  I'm pretty humble (if I do say so myself) and I don't boast about accomplishments.  I'm pretty definite on this one, because I've known some prideful bitches, and those hoes are insufferable.

 

So there you go.  Looks like I'm guilty of some of the deadly sins, but not all, and as far as the 10 Commandments go, I think I'm pretty good on those, save for the frequent "goddamming" of everything under the sun.  But who do you know that is perfect?

 

On to this week's confessions...

 

1)  I confess...that I rather enjoy being naked.  Just this morning I was talking to Husband naked while he was in our computer room.  I had just gotten out of the shower and my clean clothes were downstairs in the laundry room.  I joked about doing the vacuuming naked.  Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being naked, but you're not going to catch my naked ass doing housework.  You're also not going to catch me sleeping naked or joining a nudist colony.  I'm comfortable with my nakedness, but I'm not comfortable with YOUR nakedness.

 

2)  My next confession comes to you with the World Series in mind:  I confess...I'm not a Justin Verlander fan.  I've been holding on to this confession for the last several weeks, due to the idea that I may jinx my dear Detroit Tigers should I utter it out loud.  However, after last night's performance, I cannot hold it in any longer.  I don't like him.  I don't think he's cute and I want to barf when I see some of my friends on Facebook talking about how yummy he is (BARF).  I think he's full of himself, and I think he believes his own hype and that's what caused him to do poorly last night.  I don't get why everyone in Detroit wants to lick his hypothetical balls and I think our other pitchers are just as good.  I'm sorry.  Maybe I am not just a big enough baseball fan where I can compare him to other pitchers on other teams.  I couldn't name another pitcher in the MLB besides who pitches for the Tigers...but seriously.  Get over yourself, Justin Verlander.  Doug Fister is cuter, and so is Max Scherzer, even with his eyes that don't match. 

 

 

3)  I confess...I hate candy corn.  Since Halloween is right around the corner, I must share my hatred of this candy.  My mom LOVES candy corn, so there was always candy corn around during Halloween.  I have tried to like it but it's gross.  I'd rather eat chocolate calories.  And while we are on the subject of holiday candy, I also hate Peeps. But I like marshmallow.  Go figure. 

 

 

Do you have a confession you'd like to share?

Trying to Get Some Organization Up in this Mutha

Some of the things I've realized since rebooting this blog:

1)  I really don't have much to talk about anymore;
2)  This blog could really use some type of reorganization (or organization); and
3)  I enjoy writing but...see #1.

I've been bouncing some ideas around in my head of weekly topics.  Things such as "Confession Time" where I write about some "secret" (small or big); "Memories" where I tell you more about my family, friends, or things from my past that make me who I am; "Products I Love" a-la Oprah; "WTF" kind of speaks for itself; "Grammar Lessons" which I have been trying to produce; "My Obsessions" which I've also been trying to produce; and maybe something like "Random Thoughts" although I'm pretty sure Kim at Perfectly Cursed Life has a trademark on that, so I gotta think of another name.

What do you think of these ideas?  Any suggestions/variations are appreciated.

Having an Angry Moment...

I really can't stand some of my "friends" on Facebook.  Especially right now, considering it's an election year.  I wish I could just give a bitch slap to a few of them -- you know, to try and slap some sense into them.  Because it would appear that a few of them are in desperate need of a bitch slap.  Or a pimp hand.  Either one would do in this situation.

Ronald McDonald layin' down the pimp hand.

Let me clarify.  Yesterday, Mitt Romney said some dumb shit.  I know, I know.  Right now, you're trying to figure out which dumb shit I'm talking about.  I'm specifically referring to the fact that the man does not know why you cannot open the windows on an airplane.  As a sidenote, I asked Daughter yesterday why you couldn't do this.  Her first answer was "because you'll die" and when I asked for clarification, she said because of the "air pressure".  UM, THANK YOU.  My fucking 9-year-old has more sense than this man running for President.  But, I digress.  Now, you know and I know that the statement made by Mitt Romney was just plain stupid.  But will my partisan friends admit it?  Of course not.  Believe me.  I would be the first person to (sheepishly) admit if the POTUS said some wacked out shit like this.  I would be embarassed, but I would admit it.  Because it would be the FUCKING TRUTH. 

And don't get all up in arms that the President is going on "The View".  Especially when Mitt and Ann Romney were on "Live with Kelly and Michael" last week trying to appear like they are just like us little people.  It's a goddam election year.  Your PR machine is in high gear.  Give me a break.

My (TV) Obsessions this Week

1)  I'm totally obsessed with the Democratic National Convention this week.  I have watched damn near every minute of it.  I'm watching it on MSNBC, because as I confessed to Kim over at Perfectly Cursed Life (she's a "real life" friend too), I have a mad political crush on Rachel Maddow.  I heard her interviewed a couple of months ago on the Howard Stern radio show on Sirius, and she's adorable, in a brainy way.  Love. Her.



Oh, Rachel, you brainiac, you.

2)  Along with my DNC obsession, I'm crazy over Julian Castro's (Mayor of San Antonio, TX and he gave the keynote speech on Tuesday) daughter.  Girlfriend is 3 years old and is a diva in training.  Check out the show she gave to the audience during her daddy's speech.  Work it, girl.

I whip my hair back and forth, I whip my hair back and forth...

 

5)  You may or may not know that I am a reality TV whore.  I live for reality television.  I'm sorry, but it's true.  Although, so far, I've been able to turn my nose up at "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo".  I haven't stooped that low yet.  BUT, I confess, I am loving "Married to Jonas". 

 

Newlyweds: Reboot

Now, I'm no fan of the Jonas Brothers, or their music, however, I will say that this show is adorable, in the way that Jessica Simpson/Nick Leshay's "Newlyweds" was adorable.  This is Newlyweds Rebooted.  Following Kevin Jonas (the oldest one) and his bride (I think they've been married 2 years), the show focuses on their relationship with each other, as well as the relationship they have with each respective in-laws.  Mrs. Jonas is sweet, and a bit  Jessica-Simpson-dumb (like when she didn't know prosciutto was pork, even after saying she thought it was like bacon....UM...YEAH...), she seems genuine.  The big issue concerning the Jonas' is having a baby.  Mrs. Jonas is dying to get knocked up (because really, what else does she have to do with her life since she married a millionaire), and apparently this is a problem because the Jonas Brothers are going to be making a comeback concert tour, and who would want to give birth on the road???  What are they gonna do, y'all???  I'm concerned.

 

4)  And since we're on the reality TV topic -- what the fuck, TLC?  Besides "Here Comes Honey Boo Boo" they also have a show about conjoined twins, called "Abby and Brittney" (I think).  I feel like a major asshole just watching the commercials for it, because Abby and Brittney are conjoined twins who have one body but two heads.  It's like I'm staring at them watching the commercials.  Then part of me feels like TLC is exploiting them -- the other part thinks that maybe Abby and Brittney are making some mad coin for exploiting their condition, and maybe that makes it OK?  Either way, I'm not tuning in, nor am I posting pics of them.  Google it if you're curious.

 

 

5)  OK, one more reality show topic and then I promise I won't talk about it again in this post.  Ever watch the show, "Four Weddings"?  It is also on TLC.  Premise of the show is that four brides compete for a fantasy honeymoon.  They attend each other's weddings, and rate their experience.  They rate the bridal gown, the reception, the food and their overall experience.  I tuned into this crap the other day and it was a disgusting display of women hating on other women.  During this particular episode, this one bride was BASHING HARD everyone else's wedding.  Best part?  She didn't win, and actually came in 4th place.  I thought that was Karma at it's finest.

Yep.  That about sums it up.

 

6)  Finally, comedian Steve Harvey has a new talk show that I caught on Tuesday.  I don't know if you like him or not (he is also the host of Family Feud) -- his facial expressions are the BEST. 

You know you said something fucked up when Steve looks at you like this.
 

 

 



Grammar Lesson of the Week*

*Today's lesson is regarding the pronunciation of some of the wonderful words found in our language, and is not necessarily related to a definite grammar rule.

 

1)  Specific.  Say it with me, "SPA-SI-FICK".  Specific.  The definition of which is "definite or exact."  It's not pronounced "pacific", like in the Pacific Ocean.  There is a "S" before the "pacific" part of the word.

 

2)  Sword.  Say it with me, "S-ORD".  Sword.  The "W" is silent.  And you should be too, if you're going to pronounce the "W".  You look like a dipshit.

3)  Salmon.  Say it with me, "SAM-MON".  Salmon.  Like "sword", this word has a silent letter.  It's not "SAL-MON" it's "SAM-MON".  Is English your first language?  Because if it is, you should know better, or at the very least, get out the fucking dictionary and learn to pronounce words properly.

 

4)  Escape.  Say it with me, "ES-CAPE".  Escape.  It's not "EX-cape".  There's no "ex" sound in it.  Please take an English class if you keep misprouncing these words.  Please for the love of everything that is holy.

 

And for #5, we have one that is near and dear to my heart:

 

Alzheimer's.  Say it with me, people:  "ALLS-HEIMERS".  Not "al-timers" or any other butchering of this word.  It is near and dear to my heart because my mother mispronounces this word EVERY CHANCE SHE GETS.  I've even corrected her numerous times.  And when I say "numerous" I mean more than I can count, and she CONTINUES TO MISPRONOUNCE THIS MOTHER-FUCKING WORD.  Am I bothered by it?  What do you think?

A Day in the Life...

The Beatles Rock, Y'all.

I don't know what to write about today.  Yesterday, I had the mental brewings of a really kickass blog post.  I mean, it was off-the-chain hilarious.  Think I remember what it was about?  NOPE.  I hate when my brain farts are detrimental to my blog.  I usually would write myself a little note in my iPhone to remind myself, but thinking this blog post was uber-hilarious...I thought I'd remember.  THINK AGAIN, GIRL.

What you're going to get instead of my rolling-on-the-floor hilarity, is musing about my day today.  As I sit here writing to you, I'm watching one of my favorite afternoon-junkfood TV shows, "Maury".  Why do I love Maury Povich and his show so much?  Because honestly -- it's the same shit everyday.  Lie detectors and DNA tests.  Day after day, show after show, as time marches on.  I think the reason I love it so much must obviously be because I enjoy the drama, and I enjoy all the "tsk, tsk-ing" and shaking my head.  I wonder what that says about me?

"In the case of 4-month-old Damian, Richard, you are NOT the father!"

Earlier today, I ran a few errands and did a little school shopping for Daughter.  I didn't take her with me, because I'd rather whip through the store and have her try everything on at home than have to listen to her bitching at the store itself.  She hates clothes shopping.  I often wonder how she can be my child, becuase in addition to my LOVE AFFAIR with shopping, the child also hates chocolate everything. Chocolate candy, chocolate milk, chocolate-chip cookies.  Seriously?  If I hadn't actually given birth to her, I'd wonder how we were even related.

This is how I feel about chocolate-chip cookies sometimes.

I also had an appointment today with a company who offers virtual offices.  As a solo attorney, I work from home but have a UPS box for my "business" address, because there are too many crazies in the world and I don't need any of them showing up on my front porch.  I'm really excited about this virtual office, because they also offer a service where you can have a person answer your telephone, giving me a receptionist along with the beautiful office building I could use to meet clients.  I just have a few more things to think about before signing on the dotted line -- but I will have a decision made soon because my UPS box will be expiring in the first week of September. 

If Milton was included in the virtual office package, I'd have signed up on the spot.
 

I still have a nice chunk of my day left, but overall, I think it's been a productive day.  Although, when I look around the homestead, it doesn't reflect this at all.  This poor house is in desperate need of a good cleaning and I'd rather slit my wrists and bleed out in my bathtub than clean.  Ok, maybe not that drastic, but pretty damn close.  I'm sure Husband is going to be riding my ass like a pony at a fair if I don't get on top of the vacuuming, dusting, dishes, etc. STAT.  Dammit.

My Obsessions This Week

1)  Adam Levine.  Now before you get all "he's a douche" on me -- I also think this.  I really don't like him as a person, considering everything I've heard about him in the press.  He seems conceited, arrogant, and in a much-ado-about-nothing, he's not even THAT attractive.  At least not in a dreamy, Simon Baker sort of way.  But I love his voice.  That's my problem this week.  I've seen Maroon 5 in concert and I love their music (don't hate).  I love Adam Levine's voice, and think he writes songs that are sexy.  UGH. 

2)  Shopping on QVC.  QVC is my goddam downfall.  Everytime I switch that fucking channel on, I buy something.  I have a love-hate relationship with buying items on QVC.  I love it because of the things I've purchased, most of them are fabulous.  I hate it because considering the shipping costs, I don't think shopping through my television is the most cost-effective way to shop.  BUT IT'S SO CONVENIENT.  Damn you, QVC (and your cheap-slutty-sister, HSN.)

3)  Being unfriended on Facebook.  In the last week, I've realized that two of my "friends" unfriended me on Facebook.  Thinking about the friendships (one was someone who I knew in high school and the other was someone I used to work with) -- the only reason I can think that I was unfriended is because I am a liberal Democrat.  Both of these "friends" are conservative, and one for sure, is a Republican (based on her support for Scott Brown in Wisconsin, where she lives).  Neither of these people were particularly close to me, but I'm still offended by the unfriending.  I mean, I consider myself an open-minded person, and therefore, I put up with posts on Facebook that I do not agree with.  I believe in freedom of speech, even if it means some shithead is posting about their love of all things Mitt Romney (or Sarah Palin, or Newt, or whoever).  I guess I shouldn't be surprised by some tight-ass Republican is so offended by my posts that they passive-agressively unfriended me, but I am.  *sigh*  Maybe now that I talked about it, I will be less offended.

4)  Being motivated.  Or I should say, my obession this week is my lack of motivation.  I'm trying to push myself to muster up all the motivation I can to want to get more clients, but I'm feeling very lazy and am finding it so difficult to even WANT to do something.  I am blaming this on the fact that it is summertime, and that I've been focusing on spending time with Daughter, but seriously.  She starts school in two weeks and I best be getting my shit together in a MAJOR WAY otherwise, Husband is going to be riding my ass like you wouldn't believe. 

So what are your obsessions this week?

Happy Birthday to Me

Another year has come and gone.  Hip-hip-hooray!  Yesterday was my latest-and-not-the-greatest birthday, but it was still a birthday, nonetheless.

It is pretentious that I am wishing myself a "Happy Birthday"?  That was a rhetorical question, but if you answered "yes", then you can stick it, mainly because it's my blog, and if I want to toot my own horn, dammit...TOOT TOOT!

In case you're wondering what I did for my birthday, I really didn't do much of anything.  I asked Husband for a puppy for my Birthday -- and if I sound like a 10-year-old asking for a puppy, again, you can stick it because I'm dying for a pet.  Specifically, I asked for a dauschund.  I'm dying to be a dauschund owner.  See that puppy right there?  He's the one I want, and I would name him August (yes, I have a name picked out.)  Don't judge me.  I have been fantasizing about this damn dog for a long time.

Mainly, what I did for my birthday was spend time with Daughter and Husband.  We went out to eat and had some laughs.  It was a perfectly lovely day.  I appreciated the time I got to spend with my family, and was thankful I saw another year come and go.

As far as presents?  Well, I didn't really get a gift from Husband -- we were supposed to go to the mall at some point in the day, since he told me we could go and I could "buy whatever I wanted".  But a nap called my name yesterday afternoon, and the mall closed at 6:00 p.m.  Which mean that today -- I went to the mall and bought whatever I wanted...which ended up being a beautiful Coach purse and matching wallet.  In case you didn't know, I love, love, LOVE, purses and specifically, Coach purses.  So I added a new baby to my collection.  She's a beauty, too.  Can't wait for Fall so I can break out the new purse.  Ooohhh, la, la!

Rants, Rants, and More Rants

Ok, before I go on this little rant, I will qualify it by saying I really love my daughter.  She has provided me with so many happy moments, so many that I can't even count them.  However, as much as I love her, she annoys the fuck out of me sometimes.  And for your reading enjoyment, here are some of those times (along with other annoying things):

1)  When she leaves the cap off the toothpaste EVERY FUCKING DAY.  I have to constantly remind her to put the cap back on.  Every goddam day, there is the little white cap on the bathroom counter, almost mocking me.  You might tell me to buy a flip-top tube of toothpaste to solve this problem, however, she would leave the flip-top flipped up, thus not solving my original issue with leaving the cap off....which is, there are a billion fucking germs in the bathroom and if I can avoid a few of those germs by replacing the cap, by all means, I'm going to replace the cap.  Nevermind all of the hair and whatever else tidbits there are to get stuck on the toothpaste when the cap is off.  Fuckin' A.  Put the cap on.

2)  When she is getting ready to go to bed and goes pee for the final time, she takes off her clothes and leaves them on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet.  WHAT THE FUCK?  Again, I have to remind her to pick them up.  This grates me fucking nerves like you wouldn't believe.  It's just a simple matter of picking up after yourself.  I mean, I'm not exactly OCD about keeping my house clean, but I certainly don't leave clothes all over the goddam house.

3)  How my daughter doesn't care what her hair looks like.  She keeps her hair long, like down the middle of her back.  She doesn't want to cut it and likes having long hair.  You'd think that because this the case, she'd take a brush to it once in a while.  But, nope.  I send her off to school or wherever, and when she comes home, it looks like she rolled around on the ground a few times or stuck her hair in a light socket.  I know I shouldn't care as much as I do, but sonafabitch.  I don't want her looking like a homeless child.  Brush your goddam hair and give a fuck once in a while.  Because if you don't, I'm going to have someone cut it short and then it won't matter (I wouldn't do this, but don't think I haven't thought about it.)

And finally, just when you think that the only person in my house that annoys me is my child, here's a little rant about the Husband:

4)  When my husband takes off his socks for the day, he leaves them balled up in a little ball instead of keeping them puffed out (or whatever you call it).  Like each individual sock is its own ball.  I get so irritated when I do the laundry and there are all these little sock balls that never really get clean.  It's gross and it's annoying.  Take the half a second and make sure your socks are right-side-in and fully stretched out.  Unless you don't care about clean socks.  Then by all means, continue to ball them up. 

Thank you for letting me get this off my chest.  Between sock balls and orphaned toothpaste caps, I think I'm going to blow a nut around here sometimes.  I know I shouldn't "sweat the small stuff" but seriously.  It's the small stuff that makes me crazy.

Grammar Lesson of the Week

This week's grammar lesson concerns the difference between their, there, and they're.  I was reminded of this little problem when viewing the status of one of my friends on Facebook:

"I love the commercial that tells me how great england national healthcare is. then you find out it is the U.S.A. sending them there. quipment. to help save the preemie babies. if we get rid of our healthcare who is going to send us quipment. just saying"

Now, besides the obvious spelling errors ("quipment"), and the error of not capitalizing "england", my friend here (who, by the way, is a 42-year-old man) is trying to say the USA is sending equipment to England to help save the English preemie babies.  As you can see, he says "then you find out it is the U.S.A. sending them there quipment", when he really means THEIR EQUIPMENT.

Here are the proper definitions of there, their, and they're:

There (adverb):  in or on that place (such as "over there")
Their (adjective):  of or relating to them or themselves especially as possessors, agents, or objects of an action (such as "their furniture" or THEIR EQUIPMENT)
They're:  this is a contraction of "they are"

You're welcome.  Now, if only I could help my friend on Facebook from further humiliation in his grammar and spelling.  I would kill him if he was my husband (even though I'm sure he's a nice person).  Especially considering English is his FIRST FUCKING LANGUAGE.

Grammar Lesson of the Week

I was an English major in college.  Therefore, grammar (and its brother, correct spelling) are very important to me.  Recently, I was reminded of one of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to grammar:  the possessive apostrophe.  It is a relatively simple rule, but I believe it is mystifying to many, many people.

When showing a possessive form of a singular noun, it is proper to use an apostrophe before the "s". 

Examples:

Michael's car (not Michaels car, or Michaels' car)
a hard day's work
the basket's handle

NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH, SHOULD YOU USE AN APOSTROPHE TO SHOW THE PLURAL OF A NOUN.  Such as here:

Whenever I see mistakes like the ones above, I die a little inside.  Now, go forth and use apostrophes appropriately!  You're welcome.  

My Obsessions This Week

Here are just a few things that have been obsessed with this week:

1)  Simon Baker and "The Mentalist".  I have only just recently discovered this TV show due to some serious marathons on TNT.  About 3 times a week, "The Mentalist" is on TNT for HOURS.  I not only love the show, I am in love with Simon Baker and his adorable curly blonde locks AND his great smile.  I mean seriously, how fucking cute is he????

2)   For my sandwiches, I love, love love, Marconi's HOT Giardiniera.  It's a mixture of peppers, carrots, cauliflower, celery, and only God knows what else.  It sets my mouth on fire, but I've put it on the 6 sandwiches I've eaten in the last few days and I swear I've eaten half the jar.  So good.  The downside of loving this sandwich topping (actually, it's probably more of a submarine sandwich topping, but whatever) is that I can only find the "hot" version at one local store and half the time when I shop there, they are out of it.  Which means everytime I see it, I buy at least 2 jars, because --heaven forbid-- I'm caught without some in my refridgerator.

3)  Detroit Tigers baseball, namely Miguel Cabrera.  "Who's Your Tiger?"  Fucking Miguel Cabrera is, that's who.  And I'm not alone, I'm sure.  This guy is amazing.  Sometimes he's the only good thing to watch in the game, although, I must admit, the Tigers are doing pretty good as of late (except for that last stretch of games with Boston, but I digress).  And Miguel Cabrera is one of the many reasons why they are doing well.  Go Miggy, Go Miggy!

4)  Things I am sick of hearing about this week:  Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson; Ryan Lochte (I mean he ain't THAT cute, y'all); Michael Jackson's family's family fued (can anyone say "cray cray"?); everyone complaining about the weather (look, it's summertime and it's hot.  I realize that the temperatures are insane, but I would take a 99-degree day over 12-inches of snow.  And this is from someone who's last electric bill was $560.01.) 

What are you obsessed with this week?  Or tired of hearing about?

I'm Back, Bitches!

I've been away from this blog for almost two years...I've neglected it and neglected the few readers I had.  Recently, a close friend asked if I still wrote in my blog.  After telling her that no, I didn't anymore, she told me I should because she enjoyed it.  That got me thinking about the reasons why I stopped blogging.  The main reason was that I really didn't have the time.  I was working at a small law firm and I was working 10-12 hour days, and by the time I got home from work, I really didn't have the energy. 

So in order to save me and you some time, here's what you missed since my last post:

• I quit that horrible job at the small law firm, and now I work for myself as a solo attorney
• I work from home, and since I do not have many clients (yet), I spend a lot of time playing housewife, maid, and mommy to my soon-to-be-10-year-old daughter (time flies!)
• The Husband has changed jobs and now works the afternoon shift, so I barely see him (yes, I'm still married)
• I have gotten my meds adjusted, so maybe I won't be as angry in my posts as I was in the past (I read many of them recently, and WOW, I was A-N-G-R-Y, but still hilarious)
• One of my best friends moved to California :(
• And one of my other best friends has dropped off the face of the Earth
• I have realized how lonely working from home can be
• I also have realized I need to make more friends
• I have started seeing a therapist, and see her twice a month

Well, y'all, I think that's it.  You are not officially caught up on my life through a concise bulleted list.  Damn, those things are handy.

Hope to see you soon in the comments.

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?