WTF is that?!?!
i have this patch of hair. it grows in the opposite direction of the rest of my hair. and it’s annoying as hell.
of course it’s right at my hairline too.
right here…
pay NO ATTENTION to the dark circles under my eyes as i have no makeup on. your focus should be on the strange hair patch.
and sure, i’ve parted my hair to that side so that it goes in the same direction as the little patch that irritates me EVERY SINGLE DAMN DAY, but ya know what?
i don’t like parting my hair that way. it just doesn’t feel right. so there hair patch.
THERE.
i also found a grey eyebrow hair a few weeks ago. this was NOT fun.
i had been tweezing because i am at the point where my eyebrow chick has raised her prices and i can no longer afford both her and my hair stylist and quite frankly, styling the hair on my head is of more importance to me than the hair that grows above my eyes.
so the bitch raises her prices and i have since been tweezing.
i know. you’re not “supposed to” tweeze unless you actually know what you’re doing… especially when you have tarantula eyebrows like mine (see above picture if you didn’t get a good look the first go-round.)
whatever, so i am tweezing and growing accustomed to sneezing while doing so because for some reason i always sneeze as i tweeze.
back to the grey eyebrow hair… so i found that…
and then two weeks ago, mom was here and rubbing my head because i was being a baby after putting my own baby to sleep and SHE FOUND A GREY HAIR ON MY HEAD.
LIKE ON MY HEAD.
WTF is that?!?!? i mean really… what is that about?!?!?
i won’t even be 29 until may. c’mon now.
sometimes i wish 30 would just get here so i could say that i’m “in my thirties” because other moms ask my age and it’s occasionally awkward.
i mean, i won a gift bag the other night at a get-together i went to because i was the youngest there.
but the gift bag was cool and has free tickets to a kiddie thing that i get to take jackson to, so that was nice.
it also included 2 hershey bars.
i only ate 1 but that’s because paul stole the other, or else i would’ve eaten that one as well.
and not felt guilty about it.
one of my fave english professors in grad school told me that i needed to write every day.
at some point of EVERY DAY i needed to write in order to become a “good” writer.
WTF is that?!?!
some days, i don’t write.
some days, i read.
THE HORROR!!!
but, this tidbit of knowledge that my professor bestowed upon me did not keep me from torturing my own middle schoolers that i taught for two years.
oh yes, there was designated journal time.
and oh yes, they had to write until i told them to stop… even if it meant writing, “Mrs. White is making me write something and I have nothing to write about and when I have nothing to write about it makes me angry, kinda like the other night when Haley told me that she would meet me at the movies and then texted me that she was going to go to the movies with Jared instead. Yeah, that pissed me off.”
the rant would continue, as you can imagine, and it was those students who ended up groaning when i called “TIME” because they wanted to finish their journal entry.
i’m sure they thought “WTF is that?!?!”
cuz, ya know… i WANTED them to write.
they probably still wonder that now.
no, they probably have moved on to their high school dramas and smoking and making out in the back seat of cars and cool things like that.
i wanna make out in the back seat of a car again.
that was hot.
i wonder if i get no action in the back seat of the car anymore because of my weird hair patch…
no, it’s probably because i am very rarely in a car without my son.
and the backseat of it is filled with a lazy-boy recliner of a car seat, chewed up toys either from my son or the dog or both, and empty drive-thru cups that paul likes to leave under the seat of my car but they always end up rolling around the floor and then i find them and get mad.
oh yeah, and my car is a VW hatchback.
and my husband is 6’6″ and wouldn’t fit in the backseat.
he, on the other hand drives a tahoe…
i mean, the word “ho” is in the name of his damn car.
HELLO!!!!!!!!!!
let’s make out in the back seat.
but then he probably looks at my weird hair patch and thinks, “WTF is that?!?!”
i quit my sorority and i don’t do clubs
it’s true. i’m a chi omega and i quit… but technically you CAN’T quit because upon becoming initiated (which i endured, don’t ask me why because i still don’t know) you’ll ALWAYS be a chi o.
and yeah, i pronounced it “chee omega” for the first month that i was a pledge because i didn’t know any better nor did i care.
and then i quit.
i actually once went to chapter (the weekly meetings you have to attend) without wearing a bra. it’s true. i had on black pants, because unless you were in a skirt or dress you had to wear black pants, and paul’s powerade t-shirt from football camp, sans bra and just kept my fleece on the entire meeting.
my pin was on my fleece.
sure, i may have sweat a little for wearing my fleece during the entire meeting, but it was worth it to me if it meant i didn’t have to put a bra and a cute top on for an hour.
sororities are all well and good and have been around for i don’t know how long and it’s not that i dislike you if you’re in one because i actually lived in a house with 7 girls in college, all of whom are chi o’s except for me but not except for me because technically i’m still a chi o… NO I’M NOT… yes, i am…
see? it’s confusing, even to me.
i am not a member of the officer’s spouses club for the navy. my husband is a pilot. he is an officer. i’m in the club by association… guilty by association… whatever. i don’t attend events related to that kind of stuff unless paul asks me to, and when i do, i’m usually NOT pleased about it because it means that i have to wear something formal which means that i will be in uncomfortable shoes, which means that there better be an open bar in order to make things tolerable.
i’m not in a mommy-and-me group with the magoo. i’ve scoped it out and they kind of scare me. comparing children and the milestones they have or have yet to reach is not something i’m open to sharing publicly unless it’s on my blog because jackson gained a pound, or with his pediatrician.
so yeah, i have a stigma, you could say, when it comes to “groups” and “clubs” of sorts.
but i’m going to this thing tomorrow night.
i know… i’ll give you a moment to pick your jaw up from off the floor.
done? ok, good.
so now that i’ve stated it publicly, i’m committed.
and don’t get me wrong, i had a fantastic phone conversation with the woman who is hosting and she eased my fears as i told her that i straight up don’t do clubs and group organizations and i quit my sorority because of it and i have anxiety and will NOT KNOW A SINGLE SOUL AT THIS EVENT.
but i’m going. hell, i even have a ride.
because… i have this blog and i like this blog and with this blog comes readers… who i then begin conversing with on twitter… and then all of a sudden these events come up.
and it means that not only do you meet face-to-face with the person behind the computer screen…
THEY MEET YOU.
so, those of you who i will meet tomorrow and those of you who will meet me tomorrow… just know this… while i lay it all out here on my blog, allowing the entire internetz into my life and my wackadoo mind, i’m kinda scared of y’all.
i will most likely pop a xanax on my way there.
but i’m going.
i’ll be there.
because dammit, i have a cute new dress.
and i really need a night out.
but don’t try and get me to join anything or sign up for anything.
it won’t happen.
unless it involves free wine.
house rules
MONTHS AGO…
Me: “OK, I’ll be better about throwing away my sweet & low packets post morning coffee consumption, if you actually dispose of the food you dump into the sink.”
Paul: “Deal.”
OVER TIME…
Me: “Friendly reminder… food in sink that you DON’T put down the disposal makes me gag. I’ve thrown away my sweet & lows. Jump on it Tonto.”
Paul: “K, sorry.”
TODAY…
Me: calls Paul at work. “OK, so you know those families who have a cussing jar, and each time someone cusses, they put a dollar in the jar?”
Paul: “Yeah.”
Me: “So, I have an idea for a new house rule… each time I find food in the sink that has NOT gone down the disposal, you’ll owe me a bottle of wine.”
Paul: …………
Me: “Cuz I just went in the kitchen to make Jackson’s lunch, and upon going to wash my hands, I found Kashi remnants, 1/2 of a pretzel stick, and a gnarled banana. It nearly made me wretch.”
Paul: “Sorry.”
Me: “So, what say ye of said house rule?”
Paul: “OK.”
Me: “Cool. So, no hard feelings, I’ll just text you each time this happens and hopefully over time you’ll get to the point where you’re buying me bottles of wine NOT because you have left food in the sink without disposing of it, but because you just love me.”
Paul: “Yup. Sorry.”
Me: “OK. I love you. Bye.”
Paul: “I love you too. Bye.”
And…….. SCENE.
stress
 |
tight
unyielding
exhausting
breathless
constant
Samuel Adams Boston Lager
Samuel Adams Boston Lager is currently residing in our kegerator. It’s the NOM NOM brew for Paul and I… as it goes well with everything and nothing.
The kegerator, aptly named ‘Lil Joe after one of Paul’s favorite bartenders, was our first wedding anniversary gift to each other.
I think paper is traditionally given for the first wedding anniversary.
We prefer beer.
The Florida Gator beer gnome guards the contents within ‘Lil Joe at all times.
Some weeks, you just need a big bottle… or in the case of this week, a keg… of Sam Adams.
Have a Sip
