I'm Alive!

Thanks to those of you who have checked in on me! I'm alive and well, just as busy as can be.

In early November, I accepted a job at a well known children's clothing store (if you know where I work, don't out me because you know I will end up talking shit about them at some point) and I have been working my ass off since then. I have never made so little money per hour in my entire life, but then again I've never had so much fun at a job. It gets me out of the house and gives me a reason to get dressed and I have made a lot of new friends. People that know me from preschool or the neighborhood are shocked to see me working. My children, especially Moggie, have become little fashionistas and can't wait to see what I've brought home for them each time I work. The timing of starting my job and them needing warm clothes coincided so I think the girls think that my sole mission with this work gig is to bring them a new outfit every day.

To get to the point, trying to be a good wife, mother, friend and employee has led to me being a suck ass blogger. I had to squeeze in a 10 minute call to my dad this morning between errands to wish him a belated happy Thanksgiving. That's how badly I suck.

Please accept my flimsy excuses and I promise that I'll try to get into interesting situations and blog about them soon. I'm seriously considering hosting a little cocktail hour at my house next weekend for my new workmates. That should make for at least one funny post, right?

Old Biotch, Meet Karma

Moggie and I hit the Chick Fil A drive thru tonight for dinner for the family. I stopped to let a family cross in front of me and this old bitch in a burgundy Crown Victoria whipped around me and jacked me for my spot in the drive thru line. I didn't do anything but mumble, "Old bitch" under my breath because I wasn't in any big hurry. After I ordered and drove up to the window behind her, I saw the cashier hand her the drink she ordered and all of a sudden the old bitch was holding the cup outside her window because she had managed to spill the drink all over herself. I had my window down and I laughed, "Ha ha, you old bitch, that's Karma!!".

She Needed Drunkin'

Have you ever heard the redneck phrase, "He needed killin'"? Well, tonight, I needed drunkin'. And drunkin' I did. I dressed as Tipsy Housewife, complete with my wooden spoon, Kitchen Madonna apron and wooden spoon. I can't tell you the last time I felt, well, drunker. Halloween and drunk go well together.

My kids were cute, my husband dead sexy, and I couldn't have had a better night. Hope it was the same for all of you!

ETA: I only had one wooden spoon. I did have more wine than was required for "Tipsy Housewife" so I turned out to be the Completely Drunk and Soiled with Wine Housewife but here in North Georgia, I was considered to be charming. So Ha, to you, people who don't drink.

Mary J. Blige Would Like to Play

My girls can spend hours building Miis on their Wii. One day I caught them making this one and I couldn't help laughing because it looked like Mary J. Blige when she went through that blonde pigtail phase in the 90's. You know, the good old days when we were young and understood music.

Totally Not Me

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure I'll consider driving to Nebraska before the end of this week but this bitch beat me to national fame by being the first from Georgia to drop her kid off in Nebraska. I'm probably 30 miles east of her so if I drop mine off I will own the Farthest Drive to Dump Kids title until some skank from further away usurps me.

I'm just not sure I can invest in a long ass road trip only to be stripped of my title the next week. Unless some of you want to chip in for gas money. I accept PayPal.

*Disclaimer: If any grandparents to my children are reading this, I'm totally kidding. My girls are angels straight from Heaven and I'm hoping to prove this to you by dumping them on you for a few weeks this summer. I mean, blessing you with their company.

Pardon Her Urine

In my misery of adapting to being broke, I have forgotten to tell you all of a funny escapade that Moggie and I had at The Wal-Mart nearly two weeks ago. Tootie has dance class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so afterwards on one of those days, Moggie and I hit The Wal-Mart for a few needed grocery items. Now Moggie is a child on a mission to hit every flipping bathroom in North Georgia. I have a crazy and perhaps irrational aversion to public bathrooms so we typically have a battle of the wills when we go shopping together.

Moggie likes to ride on the front of the cart, holding onto the basket with her arms. As we made our way to the back of the store, she said she had to use the potty. I told her that she would just have to wait. Yeah, I know it's crazy to tell a four year old kid to wait, but she's been potty trained for over 2 years and she raises false alarms so much that it's hard to believe her. She looked at me and said, "Mom, I can't wait" and as she said that she was peeing in her pants. I shrieked, "MOGGIE" and then my legs went in two different directions and my back and ass thunked on the floor, right there by the paint counter. I was so embarrassed, and covered in piss, so I hopped up and ran off like a gazelle. As soon as I got out of sight of the paint guy, I slung Moggie in the cart to sit and hurried up and got out of there.

Looking back, I should have told someone that my kid had pissed in the aisle but I was so freaked out by the whole ordeal that I just jetted.

Hard Times Humor

Yesterday, while driving Tootie to dance class, I passed the Wal-Mart and noticed that the resident beggar was walking away from his day shift. This guy approaches me every single time that I'm in the parking lot, and he always asks for $3 for a tv dinner. This is even when times were good and you could walk into any store and get a job, so I don't have a lot of pity for him. I normally just mutter motherfucker under my breath when I see him but yesterday I was like If times get much harder I'm jacking you for your begging spot, motherfucker.

The Great Depression

Sorry I've been MIA here lately. I've been weighing the options of heading west to pick fruit or hunkering down with the extended family on Walton's Mountain. If I had one good partner in crime I could probably make a living selling moonshine because God knows, boozehounds have to have their hooch.

Times are seriously hard, my friends. We are trading cars for el cheapos, trying to live on $25/week in groceries. It helps that we have a freezer full of stuff to eat off of, but it still sucks to cringe when the girls waste half a sandwich.

Maybe something funny will happen and things will brighten a little, but for the moment I'm wallowing in self-pity and fear.

45 More Minutes

Till bedtime for the girls. I don't normally watch the clock but I'm ready for some nice downtime tonight. Fidel's not home so we won't be doing our normal Friday night deal- catching up on the Tivo-ed shows we watch. I'm going to straighten up, take a nice long hot shower, and curl up in bed with a book and hopefully be asleep by 9:30. I would make a cup of tea and chill out in the hot tub but I have these incisions and I'm not allowed to take a bath yet so I'm pretty sure that soaking in a hot tub is out of the question.

I think you turn into an old Nana when you get your gall bladder removed. Happened to me.

Gas Crabs

Here in the Atlanta area, there is a shortage of gasoline. Most gas stations don't have gas prices on the exterior signs and the pump handles are covered with plastic bags. I've been conserving (napping a lot instead of leaving the house) so my tank of gas has lasted me a long time, but today the gas light came on and it was time to refuel. I finally found a gas station with one grade of gas, and got in line to wait my turn to fill my tank and empty my wallet.

I had a magazine in the car to help me pass the time, but the people watching was so exciting, I never even picked up the magazine. It's funny how crabby ordinary people become when they are in a line for gasoline. I was sweating the whole deal a little myself, figuring the pump would run dry just as it was my turn, but a lot of people were just plain bitching each other out in the parking lot of the gas station. People were getting cussed out for being too slow to pay with cash inside before they pumped.

Immediately to my right, two old old men pulled up in a panel truck nearly as old as they were and started pumping gas. Old Man 1 (the driver) pumped gas while Old Man 2 hobbled inside the gas station to drain his lizard, I suppose, because he hobbled back out empty handed a little while later. By this time, OM1 was done pumping gas so he went inside to do his business. He didn't bother to move his truck up to the non-working gas pump directly in front of where he was so that the people in the long ass line behind him could start pumping. OM2 decided to wash the windshield very thoroughly. Thoroughly and methodically. And slower than Christmas. The nice lady in the burgundy Honda behind him went from nice lady to raving she-bitch in the span of time that OM2 scrubbed half of the windshield.

As I was exiting the pump, I needed to cut through the line that was running the opposite way to get out of the parking lot. Because the 2 Old Men were finally being run off of the pump, there was a gap opening up behind about the third car. Since people were sitting there with the engines off it took a few seconds for them to pull up so I went ahead and pulled through the spot, apparently infuriating the driver of the 4th car, another old man who felt the need to yell at me like I was cutting in line and not driving on through to make way for someone else like I was actually doing. I had my window down and yelled, "Simmer down, you old bastard" at him. I can't imagine how ridiculous I looked for yelling that at an old man in a very crowded parking lot. I just don't know what gets into me. But I could have stayed there all day calling people old bastards.