Just got back from the grocery store. Gone are the days when I could get $90 in groceries for $7. Now I pay $90.
DAMN YOU, GAINFUL EMPLOYMENT!!!!
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
What A Bitch. I'm So Proud Of Her!!!
Back when Mouth was a baby, I lived in my current Armpit hometown while I finished my bachelor's degree. In fact, I lived with Mother in the same shitty apartment I now reside in.
That last sentence will keep me in therapy for two years MINIMUM.
Anyhoo, back when I lived with Mother there was an apartment building next door owned by an older couple whose son managed the apartments. Their son, Derwin, was probably 20 years older than me and had a monster crush on me. Bless his heart...I'm all into sugar daddies but this guy was CREEPY.
Fast forward 10 years, his parents have passed so he now owns the building next door (and the other buildings his parents owned.) When I moved back here nearly two years ago, Mother mentioned, "You know, Derwin owns the apartment building next door. AND he's still single! Are you sure you aren't interested???"
Well, let's see...no job, lost my house, have no life, um...nope. Still not interested in Derwin!
Fast forward two years. I've been recently reminiscing about the food stamps and state health insurance I received until I found my recent nice paying job...especially now that I have to pay for all that stuff myself again. Bummer.
Texting Mother tonight:
Me: "I'm sick of working. I need a sugar daddy. I'm happy with getting state food and medical aid while unemployed but I need someone to make my Jeep payment. Is Derwin still available?"
Mother: "Holy crap are you goofy? Derwin??? Actually yes he is available and still in love with you!"
Me: "haha no he's not! What do you think his income is? Think he'd be okay with me being a stay at home mom with a kid and a dog?"
Mother: "He is pretty rich. He wouldn't want you to work because someone might steal you away."
Me: "Sweet! I can handle that!"
Mother: "But you better buy a lot of paper bags. One for him and one for you in case his falls off."
Me: ".....Wth? Are you calling me ugly? Did you just actually say he would need a bag for me too????"
Mother: "Well...you aren't 25 anymore."
Me: "WHAT THE F*CKETY F*CK???"
Mother: "I'm kidding! I mean in case his falls off then you can't see him because you have yours on. Okay?"
Um...WHAT A BITCH!!! She just totally called me ugly! But then again, I couldn't be more proud because I'm still laughing my ass off at her audacity. I mean, we're talking about The Church Lady, people!
So proud.
*wiping tears*
But what a bitch!
That last sentence will keep me in therapy for two years MINIMUM.
Anyhoo, back when I lived with Mother there was an apartment building next door owned by an older couple whose son managed the apartments. Their son, Derwin, was probably 20 years older than me and had a monster crush on me. Bless his heart...I'm all into sugar daddies but this guy was CREEPY.
Fast forward 10 years, his parents have passed so he now owns the building next door (and the other buildings his parents owned.) When I moved back here nearly two years ago, Mother mentioned, "You know, Derwin owns the apartment building next door. AND he's still single! Are you sure you aren't interested???"
Well, let's see...no job, lost my house, have no life, um...nope. Still not interested in Derwin!
Fast forward two years. I've been recently reminiscing about the food stamps and state health insurance I received until I found my recent nice paying job...especially now that I have to pay for all that stuff myself again. Bummer.
Texting Mother tonight:
Me: "I'm sick of working. I need a sugar daddy. I'm happy with getting state food and medical aid while unemployed but I need someone to make my Jeep payment. Is Derwin still available?"
Mother: "Holy crap are you goofy? Derwin??? Actually yes he is available and still in love with you!"
Me: "haha no he's not! What do you think his income is? Think he'd be okay with me being a stay at home mom with a kid and a dog?"
Mother: "He is pretty rich. He wouldn't want you to work because someone might steal you away."
Me: "Sweet! I can handle that!"
Mother: "But you better buy a lot of paper bags. One for him and one for you in case his falls off."
Me: ".....Wth? Are you calling me ugly? Did you just actually say he would need a bag for me too????"
Mother: "Well...you aren't 25 anymore."
Me: "WHAT THE F*CKETY F*CK???"
Mother: "I'm kidding! I mean in case his falls off then you can't see him because you have yours on. Okay?"
Um...WHAT A BITCH!!! She just totally called me ugly! But then again, I couldn't be more proud because I'm still laughing my ass off at her audacity. I mean, we're talking about The Church Lady, people!
So proud.
*wiping tears*
But what a bitch!
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Thursday, February 7, 2013
Closer to Normal
I love expensive stuff.
Back when I worked for the Yellow Beast (i.e., the Corporate Devil) I had a very well-paying job. But I hated it with all my heart so I self-medicated.
With expensive goodies.
Purses, shoes, makeup, jewelry - I treated myself to pricey goodies on a regular basis.
When I lost my job, I had to lose the expensive taste as well. Out went the purses and shoes, the Tiffany credit card was cut in half, and I began buying "economical" beauty products. However, I found that more often than not "economical" was poorspeak for "shitty".
I'm sure some of you will say, "Nay, nay! Oil of Olay is economical AND wonderful!" I agree. I actually used Oil of Olay when I went poor. It did just fine. But Clarins IT IS NOT.
Now that I'm back in the belly of the beast, and therefore having actual REAL money in my checking account, I've been slowly restocking my beauty products to their original labels (my hair already sent me a Christmas card thanking me profusely for getting rid of the Pantene and buying the pricey glossing stuff I used to own.)
Today was time for me to restock my face care system. Buh bye Miss Olay! I used to switch off between Erno Laszlo and Clarins but my skin has changed a bit in the last few years and Erno is a little heavy so I decided to go with Clarins. I trotted my happy little dehydrated face to the Clarins counter and waited. And waited. But alas no Clarins chick.
"Hello? Bonjour???" (Btw, the first language of Clarins products is French. What??? I told you I liked pricey!)
No answer. Then I heard someone say, "Y'all need some help over there?" It was the Clinique girl. I told her I was interested in browsing the Clarins line and she said, "Oh honey, I don't think Fifi comes in tonight." (And no, I don't think her actual name was Fifi. However it was my first hint that I was gonna love this lady!)
Fifi never showed up so Christy the Clinique lady helped me as best she could in selecting the appropriate products for my skin. We actually had a blast trying to Google translate and decode the labels. And, bless her heart, she tried awfully hard to sell me on Clinique's 3-step system...whatever that is.
I felt bad so I finally had to lay it on the line for her. I said, "Christy, I know Clinique is a good product. Heck, I used it all through high school. But I'm gonna be honest with you. I personally believe Clarins is made from unicorn tears and leprechaun piss because when you put it on your face you just want to CRY it feels so good!!!"
That's when Christy knew she was dealing with a nutjob. But I got my Clarins!
What's next? Oh! I need my Tiffany credit card back!!! Well, maybe not. I did learn some lessons whilst broke as a hooker on Sunday.
Besides, I can always pull the pieces of my old Tiffany card out of its baggy and reminisce.
*sniff* I'm starting to feel sad. I'm gonna go wash my face. Again.
Back when I worked for the Yellow Beast (i.e., the Corporate Devil) I had a very well-paying job. But I hated it with all my heart so I self-medicated.
With expensive goodies.
Purses, shoes, makeup, jewelry - I treated myself to pricey goodies on a regular basis.
When I lost my job, I had to lose the expensive taste as well. Out went the purses and shoes, the Tiffany credit card was cut in half, and I began buying "economical" beauty products. However, I found that more often than not "economical" was poorspeak for "shitty".
I'm sure some of you will say, "Nay, nay! Oil of Olay is economical AND wonderful!" I agree. I actually used Oil of Olay when I went poor. It did just fine. But Clarins IT IS NOT.
Now that I'm back in the belly of the beast, and therefore having actual REAL money in my checking account, I've been slowly restocking my beauty products to their original labels (my hair already sent me a Christmas card thanking me profusely for getting rid of the Pantene and buying the pricey glossing stuff I used to own.)
Today was time for me to restock my face care system. Buh bye Miss Olay! I used to switch off between Erno Laszlo and Clarins but my skin has changed a bit in the last few years and Erno is a little heavy so I decided to go with Clarins. I trotted my happy little dehydrated face to the Clarins counter and waited. And waited. But alas no Clarins chick.
"Hello? Bonjour???" (Btw, the first language of Clarins products is French. What??? I told you I liked pricey!)
No answer. Then I heard someone say, "Y'all need some help over there?" It was the Clinique girl. I told her I was interested in browsing the Clarins line and she said, "Oh honey, I don't think Fifi comes in tonight." (And no, I don't think her actual name was Fifi. However it was my first hint that I was gonna love this lady!)
Fifi never showed up so Christy the Clinique lady helped me as best she could in selecting the appropriate products for my skin. We actually had a blast trying to Google translate and decode the labels. And, bless her heart, she tried awfully hard to sell me on Clinique's 3-step system...whatever that is.
I felt bad so I finally had to lay it on the line for her. I said, "Christy, I know Clinique is a good product. Heck, I used it all through high school. But I'm gonna be honest with you. I personally believe Clarins is made from unicorn tears and leprechaun piss because when you put it on your face you just want to CRY it feels so good!!!"
That's when Christy knew she was dealing with a nutjob. But I got my Clarins!
What's next? Oh! I need my Tiffany credit card back!!! Well, maybe not. I did learn some lessons whilst broke as a hooker on Sunday.
Besides, I can always pull the pieces of my old Tiffany card out of its baggy and reminisce.
*sniff* I'm starting to feel sad. I'm gonna go wash my face. Again.
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Monday, February 4, 2013
Public Service Announcement
Guys. You know that new style of jeans you wear? The dark denim with the white stitching on the back pockets and all along the seams...including the zipper area on your crotch?
PUT THEM BACK IN YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S CLOSET BECAUSE YOU LOOK STUPID.
Also because no matter what you wear with them or what you're holding (for instance, you could be holding two automatic rifles) you will look like a pansy-ass-my-balls-are-in-my-pocketbook DOUCHE CANOE.
Just sayin'.
PUT THEM BACK IN YOUR GIRLFRIEND'S CLOSET BECAUSE YOU LOOK STUPID.
Also because no matter what you wear with them or what you're holding (for instance, you could be holding two automatic rifles) you will look like a pansy-ass-my-balls-are-in-my-pocketbook DOUCHE CANOE.
Just sayin'.
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Friday, January 25, 2013
Live Texting a Spelling Bee
Mouth made it to his school spelling bee for the fourth time but he's always a bridesmaid, never a bride. The closest he's come to winning is top ten. I joked with him this morning saying it's no big deal if he doesn't win - because if he did, he would move on to the county bee at which point some Asian kid would kick his ass. He said, "But I wanna win...just once." Awwww!
I had to work so Mother said she would attend and keep me posted. The first year she attended in my stead I told her to call me and hold the phone up so I could hear Mouth spelling. Every round she kept saying she'd call me when they got to him the next round. But when she did call, it was right when he was spelling and she was apparently holding it UNDERWATER because I couldn't hear anything. This year I suggested she text me.
Me: "Have they started yet?"
Mother: "Whew he made it thru the first round. second kid missed it."
Me: "What??? What was the first round word? Ya gotta keep me updated!"
Mother: "6 kids out first round. he made thru 2nd."
Me: "Ma! What was the second word???"
Mother: "..."
Me: "How's he doing?"
Mother: "..."
Me: "Stop ignoring me! You're a terrible live texter!!!"
Mother: "He just made it thru 3rd round. obligerate wordliness and intelligence"
Me: "Wow. I don't even know what obligerate is?"
(Side note: A 7th grade spelling bee word that I've never even heard of before? This should have been my first clue something was off.)
Mother: "They are dropping like flies now. Words are really hard."
Me: "Oh boy..."
Mother: "9 kids left. Just spelled perfectonism correctly!"
Me: "Yay! He's so smart. Gets that from me. I'm part Asian you know. And it's perfectionism."
Mother: "haha sure you are. He made it on longtude. 6 left!"
Me: "Holy cow! And it's longitude."
Mother: "Stop correcting me. 5 left!"
Me: "Fingers crossed!"
Mother: "4! Made it with unforeeable."
Me: "unforeseeable"
Mother: "3 left. uh oh hard word"
Me: "???"
Mother: "Missed on taceturn. So did next kid."
Me: "So did you. It's TACITURN."
Mother: "Do you want me to stop texting you?"
Me: "No but come on...you have 12 year olds spelling these for you!"
Mother: "Darn. Some other kid won. He just has to beat the other kid and he gets runner up."
Me: "Come on Z!"
Mother: "He spelled geogolist right!"
Me: "GEOLOGIST"
Mother: "Spelled veribage right"
Me: "VERBIAGE???"
Mother: "Stop it!!!! Oh no...nomitive is next"
Me: "wth??? I just Googled that and it isn't even a word. You mean nominative?"
Mother: "Idk. He missed and got 3rd."
Me: "Awww. Still the highest he's placed yet. Tell him I'm so proud of him!"
Mother: "I will."
Me: "btw, I'm totally gonna blog about you misspelling all the words they were spelling."
Mother: "I was trying to liaten and text, you brat!"
Me: "LISTEN!!!"
Needless to say, Mother is refusing to ever live text a spelling bee again.
I had to work so Mother said she would attend and keep me posted. The first year she attended in my stead I told her to call me and hold the phone up so I could hear Mouth spelling. Every round she kept saying she'd call me when they got to him the next round. But when she did call, it was right when he was spelling and she was apparently holding it UNDERWATER because I couldn't hear anything. This year I suggested she text me.
Me: "Have they started yet?"
Mother: "Whew he made it thru the first round. second kid missed it."
Me: "What??? What was the first round word? Ya gotta keep me updated!"
Mother: "6 kids out first round. he made thru 2nd."
Me: "Ma! What was the second word???"
Mother: "..."
Me: "How's he doing?"
Mother: "..."
Me: "Stop ignoring me! You're a terrible live texter!!!"
Mother: "He just made it thru 3rd round. obligerate wordliness and intelligence"
Me: "Wow. I don't even know what obligerate is?"
(Side note: A 7th grade spelling bee word that I've never even heard of before? This should have been my first clue something was off.)
Mother: "They are dropping like flies now. Words are really hard."
Me: "Oh boy..."
Mother: "9 kids left. Just spelled perfectonism correctly!"
Me: "Yay! He's so smart. Gets that from me. I'm part Asian you know. And it's perfectionism."
Mother: "haha sure you are. He made it on longtude. 6 left!"
Me: "Holy cow! And it's longitude."
Mother: "Stop correcting me. 5 left!"
Me: "Fingers crossed!"
Mother: "4! Made it with unforeeable."
Me: "unforeseeable"
Mother: "3 left. uh oh hard word"
Me: "???"
Mother: "Missed on taceturn. So did next kid."
Me: "So did you. It's TACITURN."
Mother: "Do you want me to stop texting you?"
Me: "No but come on...you have 12 year olds spelling these for you!"
Mother: "Darn. Some other kid won. He just has to beat the other kid and he gets runner up."
Me: "Come on Z!"
Mother: "He spelled geogolist right!"
Me: "GEOLOGIST"
Mother: "Spelled veribage right"
Me: "VERBIAGE???"
Mother: "Stop it!!!! Oh no...nomitive is next"
Me: "wth??? I just Googled that and it isn't even a word. You mean nominative?"
Mother: "Idk. He missed and got 3rd."
Me: "Awww. Still the highest he's placed yet. Tell him I'm so proud of him!"
Mother: "I will."
Me: "btw, I'm totally gonna blog about you misspelling all the words they were spelling."
Mother: "I was trying to liaten and text, you brat!"
Me: "LISTEN!!!"
Needless to say, Mother is refusing to ever live text a spelling bee again.
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Thursday, January 17, 2013
Randomly Heard
"I don't wear a sweater vest often but when I do, I feel like a MAGICIAN."
I'd like to introduce you to my coworker, German. I have a feeling y'all are gonna get to know him pretty well.
I'd like to introduce you to my coworker, German. I have a feeling y'all are gonna get to know him pretty well.
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Thursday, December 20, 2012
Back In The Saddle Again
Quick recap for those just joining my blog: A little more than 3 1/2 years ago, I was laid off from my overly well-paid corporate job. In the interim, I worked part time in a Level 1 medical center emergency department (that I actually volunteered at once a week while I worked at my overly well-paid corporate job.) A month ago, a former coworker of mine swooped in and saved me from food stamps and hired me back into the corporate world. I was so thankful to have an income again. Although I hate the company I work for, I sold my soul ONCE AGAIN to the corporate devil in order to pay my 3-months-late cable and phone bills. My son was ecstatic because he missed having a good Christmas.
Fast forward to today.
It's ridiculous how much I'm being paid for what I do but it's always been like that for this company. I didn't take over someone's job - it was created for a new project so I pretty much had nothing to do the first few weeks. I just sat in my cubicle, staring at the walls, missing my puppy, and making money. Which was cool. Hell, I finished the whole "Hunger Games" trilogy in my first two weeks! Then the thoughts started.
What am I doing here? I'm not helping anyone but myself. But I desperately need money. How desperately? I've seen people die in the ER. I've comforted their families. I can't even tell you how many babies I've seen blue and pulseless because their well-meaning mamas wanted them to sleep with them. I saw my colleagues try to resuscitate a 9-month-old baby boy, only to have to call his time of death while he was wearing nothing but a diaper. I tried to entertain his 2-year-old brother while their mother sobbed over his body. Two weeks later she was charged with manslaughter because she shook her baby to death.
I was taught CPR at my corporate job because my boss thought it would look good on our annual evaluations. After they laid me off, I saw CPR performed in real life too many times. I learned that if you come into the ER with people pumping your chest, you likely won't live. (Well, there was one exception: A woman who dealt cards on our local casino boat collapsed due to an apparent heart attack. The EMTs jumped into action and attached a defibrillating device to her. She rolled into the ER conscious and scared. She was the only one I saw who ever survived a cardiac arrest.)
So I sit in my cubicle and listen to the people around me get upset over ignorant coworkers who don't understand their deadlines and won't work with them to MAKE THIS DAMN POWERPOINT PROJECT COME TOGETHER.
And I think of the 40-something dentist with tattoos who had a sudden heart attack in front of his family and lived for 3 days before succumbing. And I think of the eldery lady who turned her car in front of others and died on her daughter's birthday. And I think of the young girl and her boyfriend who brought in their unresponsive 1-year-old little girl. I sat with them because our pastoral services weren't there yet and listened to their story of not being able to wake the baby for some reason. I later saw both of them in our newspaper being arrested for abuse and manslaughter in her death. And I think of the Indian girl (whose husband works at my company) who died with her unborn daughter while 8 months pregnant. I never knew what happened to them, only that the baby had been passed for a while.
And I think I can't sit in a cubicle anymore because the world is bigger than these proverbial first-world problems. There are too many people out there whom I can comfort. I'm making more money than I deserve but I crave certain creature comforts that require money. And my baby wants Santa to bring him lots of presents. So I'm good. I'm good.
I don't know how much longer I can pretend to be okay with this.
Fast forward to today.
It's ridiculous how much I'm being paid for what I do but it's always been like that for this company. I didn't take over someone's job - it was created for a new project so I pretty much had nothing to do the first few weeks. I just sat in my cubicle, staring at the walls, missing my puppy, and making money. Which was cool. Hell, I finished the whole "Hunger Games" trilogy in my first two weeks! Then the thoughts started.
What am I doing here? I'm not helping anyone but myself. But I desperately need money. How desperately? I've seen people die in the ER. I've comforted their families. I can't even tell you how many babies I've seen blue and pulseless because their well-meaning mamas wanted them to sleep with them. I saw my colleagues try to resuscitate a 9-month-old baby boy, only to have to call his time of death while he was wearing nothing but a diaper. I tried to entertain his 2-year-old brother while their mother sobbed over his body. Two weeks later she was charged with manslaughter because she shook her baby to death.
I was taught CPR at my corporate job because my boss thought it would look good on our annual evaluations. After they laid me off, I saw CPR performed in real life too many times. I learned that if you come into the ER with people pumping your chest, you likely won't live. (Well, there was one exception: A woman who dealt cards on our local casino boat collapsed due to an apparent heart attack. The EMTs jumped into action and attached a defibrillating device to her. She rolled into the ER conscious and scared. She was the only one I saw who ever survived a cardiac arrest.)
So I sit in my cubicle and listen to the people around me get upset over ignorant coworkers who don't understand their deadlines and won't work with them to MAKE THIS DAMN POWERPOINT PROJECT COME TOGETHER.
And I think of the 40-something dentist with tattoos who had a sudden heart attack in front of his family and lived for 3 days before succumbing. And I think of the eldery lady who turned her car in front of others and died on her daughter's birthday. And I think of the young girl and her boyfriend who brought in their unresponsive 1-year-old little girl. I sat with them because our pastoral services weren't there yet and listened to their story of not being able to wake the baby for some reason. I later saw both of them in our newspaper being arrested for abuse and manslaughter in her death. And I think of the Indian girl (whose husband works at my company) who died with her unborn daughter while 8 months pregnant. I never knew what happened to them, only that the baby had been passed for a while.
And I think I can't sit in a cubicle anymore because the world is bigger than these proverbial first-world problems. There are too many people out there whom I can comfort. I'm making more money than I deserve but I crave certain creature comforts that require money. And my baby wants Santa to bring him lots of presents. So I'm good. I'm good.
I don't know how much longer I can pretend to be okay with this.
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