Walking with Sisters

So, today, my cousin over at http://www.raisinaruckus.typepad.com/ was texing me and then she's all, "OMG!  Sometime I'll have to tell you the story about blah blah blah - it's too long to text."  What.the.fuck.  You do not tell people you have a really long story to share then tell them you'll tell them another time.  The statement alone just begs for the story to be told right.then.and.there.  So, I suggested she come over to my place at lunch and I'd kick her ass in some power walking we could go for a walk since she has been eating nothing but Easter chocolate for the last month.  And while she was walking then she could talk.

Well, she couldn't talk because we were going up a big ass hill, so I did the talking until we reached the top.  Then she was able to speak.  The story was good, and juicy and well worth hearing!  I loved the story!  But even more than the story - I loved being with her!  It was such a warm, sunny beautiful spring day, and it almost seemed sinful to be out on a walk during the day, with a friend.  It's a treat in which I never get to indulge. 

I don't have many gal friends - not ones that I can just hang out and walk around and gossip with and also I don't have any sisters.  She doesn't have any sisters either.  And our other cousin doesn't have any sisters.  So in a way - we're like sisters.  Except those two are older than me (but not by much anymore - they used to be much older than me, but over time, I've caught up to them somehow) and they lived in the same town pretty much and so they have always been like sisters.  I have a sister-in-law, but she has her own sisters and it's not like I can just flounce in and be all, "hello!  I'm your sister now too!" So you see, I'm just kind of stuck out here - sisterless.

I was the goofy proper one - the one that was off learning which fork to use at a fancy restaurant that serves dinner with 12 forks, or being taught how to iron underwear or sheets, or being taught ballroom dancing or the piano or some other totally worthless socially acceptable talent that all nice young ladies should have. 

They were the ones that always got to pal around and have fun - going barefoot outside, cutting their feet, smoking behind the shed or some other kick ass childhood activity that I wasn't allowed to do.  When they went to college, they hung around together too and even had alot of the same friends.  So today, taking a sinful walk around the neighborhood with my cousin - smack dab in the middle of the day - was delightful!  IT BROUGHT ME JOY!  The ONLY thing that would have made it better were if our other cousin was there with us!! 

Raisinaruckus doesn't work outside the home - well she does - but she sets her own schedule - she does whatever the hell she wants whenever the hell she wants whatever the hell her kids need her to do whenever the hell they demand she do it.  I envy that.  I loved being in her world today - walking.  Outside.  In the sunshine.  In the middle of the day.   No wonder she's always so damned happy and full of joy.  I would be too!  And also that is likely why she allows ball bouncing in her house.  She doesn't have the stress and anticipation of having to get to an office wherein she will sit and rot away into a shell of the person she once dreamed of being every morning spend her day in highly important meetings and make life-altering decisions about the universe- so ball bouncing likely doesn't piss her off.  She also allows sheep in her house.  And my other cousin has about 482 dogs and once had a llama in her house. Maybe I'm missing a gene.  (I should likely get tested for that). 

It was a nice walk and we had a nice conversation and my dog pissed on every mailbox in a 4 block radius and also took a shit in someone's elephant grass.  We just walked along and ignored him like we didn't know who he belonged to.  And her son rode his bike along with us, thinking how weird  cool we were for walking and talking and soaking up the sun on a spring day.  I wish I'd taken some pictures along the way - maybe next time!  And when we got back to my house, smoked a pack of cigarettes and laughed at ourselves we ate a nice healthy lunch of baby greens and tofu with fresh fruit sprinkled all over it.   I think we should do this every week!

STFU

I'm no political guru.  90% of the time I don't even understand the dribble that comes out of these people's mouths.  99% of the time I don't understand the dribble when it's been repeated and summarized in print.  But I DO have a keen ear for bullshit and can smell it a mile away.

I am going to say it now and I'm going to say it proud.  I am happy the health care reform act passed.  I am.  I am happy to see that this country is standing up and is willing to do something that is scary and different and charting new territory.  I don't know if everything in the bill is 100% correct, we all know shit can be changed along the way - it's not the golden tablets, but it's a step in the right direction.  We cannot just continue to sit here year after year and hope for something to change for the better - you have to actually stand up and start pushing the wheel - a little at a time - to get the momentum going. Or, I guess you could shit in one hand and wish in the other and see which one fills up first?

And I'm so sick and damned tired of hearing people blame shit on Obama.  I mean, honestly?  "you didn't see Bush doing this kind of shit" - I DIDN'T SEE BUSH DOING ANY KIND OF SHIT - I DIDN'T SEE HIM DOING A DAMNED THING.  Obama picked KU to win the NCAA basketball title - he was wrong as usual.  Jesus Christ people - it was a basketball bracket - get real.

And for all the people who are certain the apocolypse is near - QUITCHER BITCHIN' - you'll be gone before any of this change affects you.  Remember?  2012?  We're all history according to you - so why don't you do the rest of us a favor and go out and blow your retirement funds and pump this economy back into shape so that those of us who survive the great ending of the earth in 2012 can have a better world. 

And if you don't share my view - that's your right - I don't expect everyone to share my view and I don't expect or intend to sway you to see it my way.  But I do expect you to shut your damned mouth and quit trying to convince me that Obama is the anti-Christ that is here to lead us to a living Hell.

I can't even be ANYWHERE anymore without fear of some right-winger turning ANY statement into that of a political nature.  I told a friend I went to the grocery store and was apalled at the price of cheese.  He turned it into a political debate - thank the liberals for the price of your cheese.  I am not even making this shit up.  I'm going to start making a list of everyone that has pissed me off with their putting of politics intoevery conversation topic and one by one start cross checking that list against my Christmas Card list, Facebook friend list and every other fucking list I keep.  And then I'm going to cross them off ALL the lists. 

For how many years did I sit here under the Bush administration?  For how many years did I quietly shut my fucking mouth and NEVER slam HIM.  I never made racial slurs, I never paralleled him to any zoo animal.  I never ever blamed all the wrong in the world on HIM.  I did laugh at him.  Because he was such a horrible public speaker - I mean WHO DIDN'T laugh at him?  He said some dumb fucking shit, admit it - but NEVER was my laughing driven my mean, hateful spiteful feelings.  NEVER.

It is sickening to me to listen to the right-wingers at this point.  The blatant bigotry alone is enough to make me puke up my fruit smoothie.  What the fuck year is this?  Are you fucking kidding me?  We STILL have this kind of IGNORANT racial bias - and amongst the supposed well-educated and successful.  Makes me sad and and also embarrassed to be an American.  So to all you right-wingers who cannot shut your mouths and feel compelled to degrade the President at every given chance - YOU are giving OUR free country a BAD BAD name - YOU should shut.your.fucking.mouth and remember where you live and what we stand for.  And also, you are no longer welcome in my home if you cannot just Shut.The.Fuck.Up.

A Life Without Joy?

My cousin over at http://www.raisinaruckus.typepad.com/ seems to think that I never find joy in anything.  She made this statement after I suggested that the novelty of her new dishwasher would soon wear off when she discovers that she's the only person in her house that is capable of loading and unloading the damned thing.  I'm just a realist is all.  But I do find joy in many things.  So if you came here today looking for a laugh - you might want to skip this post and go to some of my older material.  Because today - I'm proving little Miss Polly Anna that I, too, have joy in my heart.

Tuesday, I arrived at work in a full on rant.  I was irritated or frustrated, or maybe both, with someone at Company X.  And I was emailing with a fellow employee back and forth, ranting and raving and cussing and carrying on about the idiocy of the situation at hand.  And as I typed and ranted and raved and cussed, my phone dinged - I had a text.  It was from my brother, announcing the birth of his son - instantly my heart was filled with joy and as I returned to my rant on email - I found that I no longer had rage in my heart and even told the recipient of the email that I could no longer rant - I'd just become an aunt and I was too happy to bitch about petty bullshit that really means nothing to me in the big scheme of things.  Just like that - one simple little text about a newborn life - turned my entire day around! 

I went to the hospital later that afternoon to see the baby and man, is he cute!  I love him!  And it reminded me of when my kids were born  - and how the instant you see their little face you are in love - immediately - the wave of love and adoration rushes over you and you're hooked for life.  And how, when the second child arrived, I worried that I would not be able to love that child the way I loved the first child, because it didn't seem possible to me to love two beings as much as you loved one.  I stressed over it for countless hours.  But the minute I laid eyes on her, I was in love.  And then I worried that the love I had for my first, had somehow been transferred to the second, until I saw them together for the first time and it was overwhelmingly amazing - I loved them both - equally and with more depth than I had ever imagined possible.  By the time I had the third one, I was less concerned about this transfer of love thing because I knew I would love this child like I loved the others and that my love for her would not, in any way, cause my love for the first two to diminish.  And I was right. 

But time passes and children grow and they develop annoying habits like smacking their lips when they eat, leaving messes everywhere they go, breaking your shit, arguing, yelling, rebeling in their own way and so on and so forth.  And you become frustrated with the process and ask yourself daily WHY DO I PUT UP WITH THIS SHIT?  When I saw my nephew at only 5 hours old, I was flashed back to each one of my kids' birth days - and the emotions I felt on each of those days came back to me like it was yesterday - the wave of love, hope, optimism - total euphoria - and THAT is why I put up with this shit from them now.  Because those feelings I felt the first day never went away - they just get pushed to the back and over shadowed by the day to day happenings of raising kids - namely those of the teen genre. 

I'd like to think that I've been a good mother to my three kids - even though I go about things a little differently than my cousin.  She always finds the positive in things and focuses on that and choosing to ignore the bad or negative aspects.  I think her attitude is admirable and a few times I've tried her approach to life.  Ignoring the blatant bullshit, choosing not to focus on it and instead steering my energy to the positive.  It felt forced and unnatural to me.  And also, it hurt.  I felt incomplete.  See, my personality dictates that I must take the bullshit that I'm dealt and turn IT into a funny story - THAT is how I deal with the nonsense part of life.  (Which is actually the part that causes us to grow and learn and love life more).  I'm not really over here just bitching, nor am I bitchy and nasty and hateful and also I do not carry a great disdain for life.  I take the obvious (the bullshit) and turn it into something funny - something that makes me laugh - something that makes others laugh - and if, by doing that, I can make ONE person laugh each day - then I'm happy. 

This is how I've always dealt with life - finding ways to laugh at myself or the situation that is affecting me.  I've transferred this on to my kids also which makes me quite proud actually.  I remember when they were younger and they would have struggles -  you know how kids are - it's new and they didn't know life was going to be full of forks in the road and that not everyone is nice and that not every teacher is on their side, and so on and so forth and they were devastated.  Or maybe they fell down in public, good Lord, the world has ended - they've been humiliated.  Well, I quickly taught them to laugh at themselves or the situation - turn it into something to be amused by.  And they've all learned that - even the 7 year old. 

Do we always go about life in this house laughing?  No.  Sometimes there are tears - sometimes you have to grieve a situation before you can buck up and deal with it.  Or sometimes the frustration is so overwhelming that the rage inside of you comes out in the form of tears.  We deal with it, we grieve, we scream, we cry, then someone cracks a joke about the matter and pretty soon we're all laughing.  And from that, we've bonded and we've experienced joy.  Joy in having one another.  Joy in being a family.  Joy in having and being offered unconditional love. 

This morning when I got up, I walked past my 14 year old's room - and there she was in her bed, along with her friend that spent the night.  They looked so grown up and it seems like only yesterday she was that newborn baby that brought me renewed  hope.  I went outside to see what cars were here and as I perused the drive and took inventory of the cars that belong to my son's friends - I felt joy - joy in the fact we provide a home where others feel welcome and comfortable, joy that I know where my 17 year old is and joy that I knew who each one of the cars belonged to. Joy that somehow I've figured out the balance of being "in" my son's life at a stage where he's likely pushing me out, yet not too far "in" that he doesn't want to be around us. 

Then I walked back into the house, and it was, of course, a shit hole of a mess, but I didn't even mind - I don't care - I need to clean it and I'm excited to clean it this morning because my new baby nephew is coming to see me today!!!  And I don't want him looking around thinking the place is a shit hole, I want him to look around and think, "man - this place is GREAT!  I'm coming back here ALL the time!"  (that's what 4 day old babies think about, you know). 

So you see my dear cousin who finds joy in operating the dishwasher, it's not that I am joyless - I just don't see the need to emote joy over a dishwasher.  Cleaning, dish washing, laundry, grocery shopping, these are all necessary tasks that I must contend with to keep this household running.  And I do them all,  somedays with less effort and bitching than others, but no.  I do not find joy in them and I never will.  And I will not pretend I ever do. 

Sleep Much?

So this morning, I almost had a stroke - AGAIN.  This seems to be a regular occurrence in my life.  It stems from PEOPLE a.k.a the prodigal son, NOT being able to get their ass out of bed.  Who in the fuck can sleep through an alarm 6" from their head for over an hour?  WHO? 

He had a dental appointment - he made the appointment, not me, so it was not I who was dictating his time.  20 minutes before he needed to leave the house to arrive there on time, I trapsed down the stairs to his room.  There he was, all snoozing away - while the freakin' alarm blared in his ear as it had been for the last hour. 

Me:  SON! 

Him:  mmphgrmmph

Me:  GET UP!  You need to leave in 20 minutes

Him:  I'm up.

Five minutes pass, no sign of him on the main floor.  Ten minutes pass, still no sign of him.  I can feel my blood pressure rising rapidly, so I throw out my coffee and quickly switch to vodka.  The husband walks in and I tell him the horrible saga - he needs to leave in 10 minutes and his ass is STILL IN BED.  Who in the FUCK cannot get out of bed in the morning?  Do you think he's on drugs?  Do you think he's stoned?  When he graduates he cannot live here any longer because I cannot take this shit another fucking day of my life. 

The husband stomps down the stairs to the son's room:

Husband:  GET UP LIKE YOUR MOM HAS BEEN TELLING YOU TO

Son:  Indecipherable screaming and bitching

The husband stomps back up the stairs and looks at me, "He's fucking ridiculous."  And he storms out of the house.  Another 5 mintues elapse and by now I'm shaking and near a nervous break-down - I again march down the stairs.

Me:    Son!  Please get up - please - you have an appointment and there is traffic and road construction and you need to leave her in 5 minutes - please get up.

Him:  Nothing. 

Finally - AT THE MOMENT he needed to leave the house - he makes an appearance in the kitchen - grumbles something and then proceeds to make himself a bowl of cereal and sits down and begins eating it - slowly - slower than I've ever seen anyone eat a bowl of cereal in my entire life.  My blood pressure was near 200/180 at this point, so I left the room and that's when I heard him get up from the table.  I thought, "oh THANK GOD!  he's going to get a move on it"  and right then is when I heard it - the cereal - a second bowl being poured.  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?   He needed to leave 5 minutes ago and he's having the fucking last supper? 

Every day is like this.  Every single day of his life has been like this.  I have, in some way, failed him.  He doesn't know how to get up in the morning.  How did I fuck this up?  What will he do next year at college?  Sleep the entire first semester away?  What is he?  Rip Van Winkle?  For 17+ years I have been battling that kid to get him out of bed in the morning.  We've tried letting him sleep in and get detention, flipping over his mattress while he's still laying on it, cold water in the face - every single tactic you can throw at me - we've tried it. 

He is now sending up signals of wanting to live at home while going to college.  I honestly don't think there is any possible way I can do it.  I don't think I can sit by and watch him throw away thousands of dollars while he sleeps his day away. 

At least when I pissed away my paid-for college education by staying up all night and sleeping all day I had the fucking common sense to NOT do it right under my parent's noses.

What the hell happened here?

I apologize in advance for any mishappenings or typos in this blog.  I'm sitting on my deck, enjoying the beautiful spring afternoon and I'll be honest - I can't see shit on this laptop screen.  The freakin' sun is too damned bright.  I could go inside, but I already cleaned off my outdoor table, made myself a tall whiskey and lit my smoke - so I'm pretty much stuck here now.  As I was getting shit in order to come sit on the deck and enjoy the sunshine, it occurred to me that this place looks like a shithole.  I recall it used to look pretty - once.  And at least for 2 years I think it looked pretty good.  Well kempt, some landscaping, CLEAN.  Now it's just a fucking mess.  And as I was cleaning up just good enough to tolerate sitting at the table, I was wondering, what in the hell happened? 

There used to be a time when I would clean this glass top table to the point that you could see right through it.  Cleaning the underside and lifting off the glass to clean the rim and polishing and polishing the top until it was streak-free.  Now?  I wiped off the top and proclaimed it to be *good enough*, and also I made a note to NEVER EVER buy a glass table for the deck again.  I like clean shit - I do.  I love it spic and span and spotless clean, but I've lost my will to put forth that much effort as of late.

The backyard looks so fucking forlorn that I had to turn my back to it and face the house.  The barn looks like it's falling down, the landscape pond that once housed fish and lovely lilies and a relaxing fountain is now nothing more than a hole full of scum and rotten leaves.  There are no flowers.  There is little grass.  Hell, the swings and shit on the swingset are even all hanging off from a single chain.  And then there is that fucking 40' bus of my husband's.  What a fucking eye sore.  He says he's going to get rid of it.  I stopped believing him 6 years ago. 

I'm sad.  I was so excited to come out here and enjoy the deck that cost us our retirement to build - why is it such a damned mess?  I'd like to think it's  because it's too much work for my husband to tend to all of it.  As I recall, when it used to look pretty and polished - I was involved in the upkeep  - it had a woman's touch.  But ever since the summer of 2006 when I found out we had in fact not purchased 3 acres of snake-free land afterall, I ceased entering the yard at all.  It's not safe.  Snakes cannot be trusted.  They have no legs and I have a very firm commitment to not trusting anything with less than 2 legs or more than 4.  Or flying things - they are unpredictable and also not trustworthy.  So my poor husband is left to care for this 3 acres, the 2 outbuildings AND remodel the stupid interior all on his own.  He is probably totally overwhelmed.  As am I.  From the fucking mess and also because of how shitty the whole place looks.

What?  Why I don't get off this computer and quit bitching and get busy?  I TOLD YOU - THERE ARE SNAKES.  And my husband seems to think I have no clue how to operate any freakin' type of equipment - lawn tractor, rake, grill, whatever - it's a stereotypical "man" tool, it's off limits to me.  He made his bed - he better get the fuck out of it and get busy is all I have to say.

I have a slew of people coming here for the prodigal son's graduation.  I should be concerned with the mess.  But as each day passes and we get closer and closer to graduation day, I care less and less about what the fuck everyone thinks about my yard, deck or house.  They're here to celebrate a moment in my son's life, if they want to spend their time judging me then so be it.  I don't really give a shit.  I'll probably be drunk and fall in the pool anyway. 

It's funny -our perception of our own things.  Quite a few people come over and rant and rave about our deck, and how wonderful it is out here.  I think they're just being polite.  I'm guessing that as soon as they leave, they look at each other and say, "Can you believe what a shit hole that place is?  Jesus.  Why don't they take care of it?  If we had that, we'd take care of it."  NO YOU WOULD NOT.  Because there is just not enough fucking time in the day or money in the world to get it all done. 

I feel guilty bitching about the things I have.  I do.  But I'm not really bitching about WHAT I have - but more about HOW we treat it, or mistreat it.  We have worked our asses off to get what we have, and I so badly wanted a new house - the kind you just walk in, drop your suitcase at the front door and shout, "I'm HOME!"  but instead I got conned into this fixer upper money pit and it's been an uphill battle against time and money ever since.  We no sooner get one room remodeled and something breaks, or leaks or falls off and we have to go back and do it all over again.  2 steps forward, 10 steps back.  For 5 years it's been like that. 

The other day I found the notebook I kept back when we looked at this house.  It contains the list of everything we were going to do to it and how much it would all cost.  $20,000 and 6 months.  LMFAO.  We're 5 years into it and so much over $20,000 that I no longer have a freakin' clue how much we've put into it.  Then the real estate market crashed and all of a sudden - GUESS WHAT?!!!  It's not worth what we have into it.  For two years we did nothing - NOT one thing to this house - I refused to put a dime into it until we could get the equity built back up or the market turned around.  Finally, I couldn't take it any longer and we decided to just return to our original plans and get back to remodeling because clearly, we are going to be stuck here the rest of our lives.  Might as well enjoy the place if we're here!  And ohhh - how I fucking enjoy it!! 

I love how when we start one project, and put our savings into that, the house dictates instead how to spend the money.  As a result, we are in a constant state of "in process".  The husband is out working on a cabinet for a new oven we purchased 2 years ago.  TWO years it has sat in the garage - waiting for a new home in my kitchen.  He says it will be installed by next week.  I'm placing my money on Labor Day weekend for installation. 

It's okay - I'm used to it.  I just don't deal well with it on some days.  Like today, and also yesterday. 

Graduation - Update

Figured y'all would be itchin' for an update on the graduation party planning, so here it is:

1. Met again at our house - we were actually able to get a picture of the four boys all together, in a single picture and I think all of them are even smiling.
2. Two minutes after the boys were captured on film, two of them split.  These boys aren't close.  It's odd that they're having a joint party.
3. No decision was made on the meat during the meeting. 
4. We will be getting together again in a few weeks to address all the invitations (YAY)
5. We will be making 40 lbs.  Yes 40 lbs of potato salad.
6. Still no decision on how many buns are needed.
7. The moms will shop, together, on a Saturday at Sams.  - I made a note to get hit by a truck the night before so I wouldn't have to go.

So, after the meeting and because I think we should have made a decision on the meat, I sent a follow up email:

Me:  Do you really think we need to have 3-4 different kinds of smoked meat?  Isn't pulled pork just fine?  It's the cheapest and easiest.  Thoughts?

Family #2:  Silence

Family #3:  Let me know

Ex-Wife of Family #3:  Whatever is fine

Family #4 (aka Pain in the ASS):  Can we freeze the meat before hand?

Me:  Dude smoking the meat says that it would be best if we didn't freeze it.  Says it could be pulled up to 7 days prior but he'd rather do it a few days before.

Family #2:  Silence

Family #3:  Let me know

Ex-Wife of Family #3:  Whatever is fine

Pain in the ASS:  Silence

So another week passes and me and Family #3 make the executive decision to order ONLY pork and to up the quantity from 50 lbs finished to 60 lbs.  We also secretly agree to 400 buns.  Family #3 places the order.

Another week passes and I get an email from Pain in the ASS:  What day?  I'm busy on May 1st.

Well let's see, since the party is the 14th and the last email said it would need to be pulled a few days prior....I'm not even responding to her stupid fucking inquiry. 

Oh and also, I found out from Family #3 that his ex-wife is not happy we are ONLY having pulled pork - she really thinks we should have at least one other type of meat.  Ummmm - she said she didn't care?  Well now she does.  So ummmmm, what other kind of meat does she want to do????  - - - HAM. 

HAM?  How the fuck is HAM different than smoked pork?  How is that providing a variety?  Fuck it.  We're having smoked pork and if people don't like it, they can go hungry.

Oh and because I couldn't figure out why in the hell we were making 40 lbs of potato salad, I sent a follow up email:
Me:  We decided to make 40 lbs of potato salad and get 50 lbs of meat.  Was that what you wanted?  The same amount of potato salad as meat?

Family #2:  Silence

Family #3:  Let me know

Ex Wife of Family #3:  I can do whatever

Pain in the ASS:  Fine.  We'll just do 20 lbs. 

Oh - and the Pain in the ASS is getting us EACH a 4' x 4' vinyl banner of our son.  YAY!  I have no clue what I will do with that after this party, maybe hang it in the kitchen?  Or family room?  Maybe our bedroom.....the possibilities are endless!

Who's Got Talent?

Okay, so I did not intentionally set out to bitch about American Idol tonight.  But because it's on, I can't leave it alone.  Who.the.fuck are these people on here this year?  Have they EVER sung a note in their entire life?  Is sung even a word? I don't know anymore.  This show has me so frazzled that I can't even think straight.  I ought to turn it off.  I really should.  It's not worthy of my time.  The *talent* is atrocious this year. 

The judges are currently fawning all over Lee - singing some horrible song, pretending to play a guitar and WHAT.THE.FUCK a Scottish bagpiper shows up in the middle of the routine - huh?  Why?  And why are they telling him he's good.  He's NOT good.  He sucks.  Someone please just tell him the truth.  It's so much easier to remove the bandaid when you just rip it off and get it over with.  Quit stringing this talentless idiot along and give it to him straight.

Who the hell is the Mexican dude?  Andrew or something?  Guitterez, Garcia, something like that.  Looks like Charlie the Tuna and SUCKS.  And Siobhan?  (That's pronounced Chavon for those of you who weren't in the know on that).  WRETCHED.  Everytime that geeky assed girl gets up to sing I want to scratch my eyeballs out and drive an ice pick into my left ear.  I love how she takes off her glasses to sing, but immediately returns them to their spot to talk to the judges.  What the hell is that?  You're not being judged on your nerd factor.  It's like watching some significantly horrible tween movie where the star is some awkward four-eyed goober who tricks everyone into thinking she's a beauty and then at the homecoming assembly, puts her glasses on and they're all like, "OH.MY.GOD!  I had no idea it was Queen Geek!"  Just leave the glasses on - Charlie the Tuna does and he still ekes by every week.

If it weren't for Bowersox, I wouldn't watch the show.  And I typically don't. I typically DVR it and watch ONLY her.  There.  A 2 hour show condensed to 3 minutes.  It fits better in my schedule that way and also my ears do not bleed as much.

And while I'm bitching about reality (?) TV - DWTS comes to mind.  Seriously, Kate Gosselin - WHAT.THE.FUCK is wrong with you?  You dance horribly.  And you act like a damned fool when you realize how awful you are.  It's like you just cannot stand to be bad at something - or wrong - or hated.  I have stood up for you all these years.  I have loved you when everyone else despised you.  I have defended the way you spoke to your worthless, lazy, irresponsible whiney-ass husband when others chastised you.  But PLEASE for the love of God and little Baby Jesus:  TAKE YOUR CAPEZIOS OFF.  You suck.  Oh - and also, you have cankles - wear a long dress to cover them up.  And while you're at it - go back to your reverse mullet - it was so much more befitting of your bitchy personality.  This new barbie doll bullshit you're rockin' isn't doing it for me and I'm finding it increasingly difficult to take your side.

That's it.  Except that for everything is VERY loud tonight - AUNT FLO alert!