Pedicures and Paranoia

I refuse to answer them when my kids yell "Mom, Mummy, MOM?" from other floors in the house when they know where I am. Unless they sound like they are injured. Then I might answer. Just thought I'd share.

Last week I went for a spa day with me own Mummy when I went for a visit. It started out super nice. Had a lovely massage and even stopped caring if the lighting made my backside look fat part way through - that is the sign of a good massage. *sigh* After the massage and facial (feeling very rubbery and shimmery) we made our way out to the pedicure area whereupon the one esthetician began recounting to us the story of her mother being diagnosed schizophrenic... and how she thinks it isn't fair to tell people what they are and are not really seeing.... because when she was three she clearly remembers a baby being sacrificed and bleeding allover her Mother's nightgown.

Ok. So. Not so much trusting the crazy ass with the file in close proximity to my Mom suddenly...but how do you back out slowly in such circumstances? So we sat and finished our treatment trying our damnedest not to bring up anything that might incite violence or baby sacrifice. WTF is that???? Seriously why do I even try???? No more spas...

Bring it on Santa

House has been fully covered in a thick and unyielding layer of Christmas. I have even managed to (mostly) vacuum up the stray sparkles... except the ones who have kindly imbedded themselves into my eyeball.

Instead of finishing cleaning my kitchen and shaving my legs (I'm QUITE the multi-tasker) I decided to pour myself a coffee and blog. (see again with the multitasking) I should be busy getting ready for Spartan arrival at 2 pm sharp... but I donwanna just yet. Instead I want to bitch about chicks.

Don't get me wrong - there's some nice ones but this isn't about them. This blog is about that crusty bitch of a woman who lives across from me and I have mentally declared my enemy. Cause she is a twat. I don't usually go around calling women that. But this one deserves it. She deserves the crown. That's right the Twat Crown. (Does this conjure up an image?) I would love to go into what a small minded complete loser she is but it doesn't make me better than her (cause I already am). She is an older mom (test tube babies- and no I'm sonotfuckingkidding) and a total bitch -- and so I mailed her depends. Which makes me better than her. I am such a grown up. I get special points for that one in hell. Especially since I am still laughing hard enough to need them myself and this was 6 months ago.

Why are women such total bitches? I have my friends and they are great - the best chicks ever - but dudes out there - or women who date women - I feel so freaking sorry for you. 75 percent of us are completely insane (not in a good way). And this is a conservative number. Believe it or not boys - we usually treat each other way worse than we treat you. It starts early too - my son is only in 3rd grade and one of his best friends is a girl (she is cool) but the other girls are starting the "mean girls thing" and since she is new and hangs out with the boys - she is their prime directive. Example? The leader of the mini bitch pack says to the other followers, "Whoever hates so and so put your hand in." (to the center of the table where her little hand waits while the other is on her hip). I can't mail them depends.. so instead I am going to volunteer in the classroom... I'm going to take those little "bitches in training" down. I'm thinking things like putting bugs in their lunchbags or "accidentally" crushing their art sculptures... hiding their homework - or maybe exlax cookies? (ok pretty sure that last one is illegal so as much as I'd like to -- I will keep those for Queenie).

I am back and back into the routine

I have returned from the trip where I drank in the views and the beer. It was wonderful. Now I have begun full throttle xmas decor and shopping. I know it is early but i feel the festive. And when I feel the festive anything I can reach gets red bows or little white lights.

Spartan was home for a couple of days and we spent it eating, working out, drinking red wine and giggling. He's such a lovely hubby. Turns out I like Ahi Tuna steaks (not a lover of fish - or seafood period really) and also ate sushi today... which leaves me equally confused and feeling slightly dangerous. I know that sounds strange but I've never been adventurous enough to try it - so when I saw people eating it I sort of felt I was watching something mysterious and now that I'm part of that society and fully prepared to up my mercury levels - I feel like I'm living on the edge. Which is better than living on the edge of the couch I always say.

Off to spread some more xmas cheer about the house. I'll be at this for a month. The work comes when I have to take down all that stuff and find a closet to stuff it into again.