Friday, December 4, 2009
Maybe I've hamstrung myself by saying/blogging about things that I wouldn't say to blood relatives.
But what are you supposed to do when friends of the people you blog about are cooler than the people you blog about and you want to let those people know about your blog and not your own family? And you have the inability to keep your big fat mouth shut about how screwed up your own blood relatives are? Because in a southern family, EVERYBODY keeps up with everybody's bizness, and if you let anything slip about how messed up your family is (including yourself) everyone will know. And the next thing you know you're getting a phone call from your sisters and your momma blessing you out about how you shouldn'tve (it is a southern word) said stuff like that and the next thing you know, your whole dang family isn't talking to you...........
which might be a good thing....
Thursday, November 19, 2009
They are young- both in their early 20s, no jobs, no insurance, no home. He's going to school and in his junior year.
Okay, okay... I know that early 20s in not necessarily young in terms of having babies. It could be worse, they could be teenagers. But, like the rest of their family (speaking of his) it is the latest occurance that points to a lack of forethought and refusal to listen to advice. However, it could have been an accident. Pills sometimes don't work, condoms break. In which case, it was meant to be, and I'm fine with that.
So what is missing about this news is the lack of comment and rush to tell me about the newest relative by my mother and oldest sister.
My husband says that they probably haven't said anything because they already know my opinion, have a hard time not expressing it and simply don't want to hear it.
Okie, dokie. I'm sure he's 100% correct. I've got an opinion, a mouth and know how to use both.
But Thanksgiving is coming, my family will be required to gather at my mother's, the baby/pregnancy will occupy probably 90% of all Thanksgiving conversation. I have to prepare myself. I do NOT need to shoot from the hip. I get into BIG trouble when that happens. (Last time that happened, my oldest sister and I didn't speak for at least 6 months.) I need carefully prepared statements and talking points. Something neutral but can be taken as supportive and positive.
Here is my starting list. Please feel free to email/comment with suggestions.
Babies are so sweet and smell like poop and baby powder.
Hope you're getting your sleep on.... cause you're going to need it.
.... And you meant to do this?!
You must be so excited and scared.
That's it. That's all I've got. Beyond that, I'm going to have to rely on keeping food stuffed in my mouth to keep from talking. Or I could chew really really slowly.
Somebody help me here.
Monday, July 27, 2009
I can ignore it, tiptoe around it, but it is the elephant in the room. And it's coming between me and moving on with the rest of my life.
I'm sure I'm not the only person that deals with this....... sort. of. thing. I'm sure thousands of women suffer through it. They take it, and just learn to keep their mouths shut. Although most, sadly, just learn to deal with it as a fact of being grown-up.
I don't like it. I don't like the smell of it, the feel of it, and I sure don't want to touch it, much less have to deal with it in there and in that position! I shouldn't have to do this! I am a respected business executive for god's sake!
I should just go ahead, work up my courage, get on my knees, bend over, brace myself, and try not to scream too much or too loud. Although I've heard that there are products that make it easier but they leave a nasty slippery residue... If only I could just make myself learn to like "it"... Hell, my sister-in-law says she thinks it's fun!
I can do this! Big smile! ".... for better or worse.... for better or worse...."
Friday, May 22, 2009
It all started because I started reading some stupid Twilighter fan fiction. I admit it, I, like some other adult women have a fascination with all things Rob Pattinson. I don't have to explain why if you've seen the movie.
So I've been reading fan fic and I quickly realize there is some seriously hot sex going on in these stories. Penthouse and Playboy letters have got nothing on these women writers... This is a smutfest,... if you like that sort of thing.
Go to http://www.twilighted.net , register and look for these stories:
http://www.twilighted.net/viewstory.php?sid=2026&textsize=0&chapter=1 The List by Laura Cullen
http://www.twilighted.net/viewstory.php?sid=3041 The Office by tby789
Wide Awake by AngstGoddess003
Just FYI: Only the List involves vampires, the others' only similarity to Twilight is that they use the same names, and physical descriptions of Rob Patt and Kristen something or another.
So I've been having myself a big fine smutfest of a time reading, getting worked up, taking it all out on my husband, thinking about sex more than 20 times a day, my husband, getting worked up some more, taking it out on him some more. My mind is just about living in the gutter. And it's fun. I kind of like feeling anxious. It makes my heart skip a beat, flutter, and generally makes me feel like the lust-driven teenager that exists only in my head.
So then a couple of weeks ago my husband and I are driving back from somewhere and we're discussing someplace that he and I used to live, and his (pre-me) former neighbors, two women. He says something about the neighbors invited him over and how weird the inside of the house was. So I, Ms. Horn Dog, ask quite innocently "What did they invite you over for?" and my husband Mr. Beneficiary, BLUSHES!!! and then stammers something about how they just needed something fixed!
So inwardly, I'm screaming "Yeeeee-hawwww!!! My husband's a superfreak!" and I am instantly turned on, I don't know why, but I am most definitely intrigued and more than a little curious about exactly what happened. So I ask, pepper him with questions, and he flat-out denies anything sexual ever happening between him and two women, at the same time.
Damn! (Let me just say, for the record, that I have no interest whatsoever in anything involving another woman. Period.) I guess what the big turn-on is, is the mere hint of an idea that my sweet, darlin', lovin', family-man, conservative, very reserved husband is (or was) virile enough to handle two at the same time. (Understand this is just coming out of my hormone driven, over-active imagination. But it's benefitting both of us, so I don't feel the least bit embarrassed or ashamed.) I'm also a little pissed off because he's been holding out on me! Why would he do that? (I'm thinking to myself.) It couldn't be because he thinks that maybe I would be offended. Couldn't be! Maybe he has some sort of Madonna complex going on. Like I'm not supposed to like kinkiness after I've had children?
<---------Madonna complex=This kind, but so not me.
I'm not this kind,
but I'm working on it-------->
So, I am on a quest. I feel certain of its existence. It may take some hard work. I may have to dig, poke & prod to find it. But I know it's there. My own personal marital holy grail. MY HUSBAND'S SECRET SUPERFREAK!!
coming next... Bad Christy- fanning the flames and her new curiosity about toys
Friday, April 24, 2009
(Fanfic Twilight smutfest + 1 laptop + 1 hour alone) x +/- 1 glass wine > 6 loads of laundry + complaining children + needy husband + needed groceries
Sometimes you just get through the day anyway you can.
Monday, April 6, 2009
The answer for most people is... when they get tired and/or sleepy... duh!
I wish it were that easy for me.
Sleep is an elusive thing for me. Without the aid of a handful of vitamin supplements, multi-vitamin, calcium, l-tryptophan, black cohosh (subject for a whole nuther blog) and melatonin... I'm not sure I could go to sleep after a normal day's activities. I probably could if someone hitched a plow to me and forced me to plow the lower 50.
The thing is, I can be physically exhausted, but if central control is still online, I'm screwed. And more often than not, it's always online. If by chance I am able to sleep but get up in the middle of the night to pee and the husband is awake as well, he's not allowed to talk to me. If he speaks, and I answer, everything boots up, and I'm toast.
So here I am, laying in bed, physically tired, took my supplements, I've caught up on all my favorite websites, checked emails, blogs, etc. but I keep surfing. All because my brain is wanting some sort of stimulation. Kind of jacked up.
Monday, March 30, 2009
1. Do NOT casually mention at a meeting with the youth minister and attending youth that you blog. Because it seems that EVERYONE blogs and wants to follow yours. It's like adding friends on myspace or facebook. A follower doesn't count as a real friend.
2. Do NOT tell them the name of the blog. For gawd's sake don't tell them the name of the blog! Because you WILL forget that you casually mentioned something about flicking the bean two posts back. Try to remember that you will see these people at church, and they will know what you do, and think, and say. They may even tell others... Even worse, they may tell your husband about your blog... And then the jig is truly up. I mean caput! Over! Take your ass off the grill because you are done! You will find yourself censoring yourself again, and then you are back to square one with a charred spot where your head used to be.
3. TRY to remember that your blog is your happy place... a place where you are free to be, do and say anything you like... If you make the stupid mistake of telling someone the name, you will have to enter the blogger witness protection program which involves packing up all your dainty ladylike thoughts and expletives onto a thumbdrive and learning a whole new website/format. Do you really want that? Especially not after you just figured out how to put little applets in.
3. LIE about your blog name. If you are going to lie about something, and I'm certainly not advocating lying, but if you were to lie about something, your blog name would be a real good one to lie about. Make something up. Have it ready, just in case you forget that you don't want people to know that you blog. I would suggest something along the lines of:
- Crazy cat lady blog
- Crazy for compost
- 1001 uses for lint
- My favorite canned soup recipes
You get the idea.
4. PROMISE to blog about them, with pictures attached, if they even attempt to follow your blog publicly. Or worse yet, tell other friends/acquaintances that know you. This is not the time to be nice or Christ-like. I personally advocate a scorched earth policy here. Even if it is the youth minister. This is not the time to back down... stare him down and remind him that volunteers are hard to come by, especially in dealing with teenagers.
Friday, March 27, 2009
I am a cruel mother, I expect things of them. Just a few things like contributing to the functioning of the house, throwing trash away, helping with bringing in the groceries, keeping their shit in their room.
I'm sure it's because I'm too easy on him. Or it could be because he is 12.
All I know is this, I have a new video camera that shoots in web format and he is about to become YouTube/blog fodder.
Friday, March 20, 2009
It's quite the delimma.
On the one hand, you have a family man that obviously loves his children with a passion.
And on the other, has quite the potty mouth. With his children.
What is a potty mouth parent to do?
I admit it. I have a mouth. I can string a bunch of dainty expletives together like no one's business. So I GET the Osbornes. Or is it Osbournes? I also have Irish friends so I also understand that the f-bomb is much like salt and pepper... just something you use to add flavor. It's not REALLY cussing, it's just normal language.
But try explaining THAT to my husband.
For GOD'S sake... he considers the word FART a cuss word! (how the hell did I end up married to him?... incredible intelligence, sense of humor... I repeat it over and over) I tried explaining that it's just part of the culture. but to him... f-u-c-k means the "act"....
I'm starting to consider immersion therapy.
Kind of like 'A Clockwork Orange" . where they pry your eyes open and give you drugs to affect your reaction to it.
But back to the Osbornes's .
I love trainwreck television. I love watching the Girls Next Door... I would so love to party with them. Except that I would be a fat cow compared to them.
And I love the Osbornes's. Not for the cussing. but because of how amusing and how it resembles my own trainwreck... except for the mansion in Beverly Hills, and the dog shi**ing on the couch, and the money, and the ... well.. you gett the picture.
So should I let my 12 yr old watch, against the husband's wishes because of the language or just buy the dvds and give them to him on his 16th birthday?
Sunday, March 8, 2009
I've tried blogging on political/social issues, only to receive responses ranging from pissed off to a polite "thank you for stating the obvious". I took away from that little experience that I'm never going to raise anyone's social conscience nor will I be a force for social change.
But most other times that I open my mouth inane, random, bizarre & socially awkward things come boiling out. Like the time that I loudly asked a group of girlfriends over happy hour margaritas (we had just started so I can't blame the demon alcohol) who or what they fantasized about while... um, flicking the bean. Then there are also the one-too-many-glasses-of-wine-I-really-need-to-email-somebody kinds of things. I usually get a response like "what?!" or "oh-kaaay."
So I figure, since I find it impossible to keep my mouth shut and have never shied away from showing my ass in public (see profile photo) I might as well drop my drawers down to my cankles and do it publicly on the internet. Yes, I'll probably embarrass the crap out of my husband and kids but I figure he knew what he was getting himself into and the kids will eventually need therapy anyway. This will just give them something to talk about while going through regression therapy. That's the worst case.
The best case is that I can use this as a behavior-modification tool. Yep, public embarrassment, is very effective for getting your kids to behave. My kids know that any woman that has the tits enough to parade down Main St. Jackson MS in a blue, sequined dress equipped with motorized, spinning propellers on her heavily augmented bosoms, a 5" tiara on her big-haired head will not hesitate to stand on the nearest table and loudly sing a new composition (of her own impromptu creation) extolling the virtues of well behaved children.
So there you have it.