Easter. Uncensored.

For the censored version go here.

Friday after working four non-stop hours I hurried home expecting a spotless house having hired a cleaning service for just that task. This was not remotely the case and instead the H and I spent 90 minutes cleaning after the cleaning lady.  I was hoping to wow my mother with my cleaning prowess. No one noticed or mentioned it.

I picked up the hunny bunny I ordered and impulse bought some Hot Cross buns that I thought we could eat as we dyed Easter eggs. Bear didn’t like the raisins. The H doesn’t eat anything healthy. Bella ate only the frosting. My mother despite me asking her multiple times rejected them, so only my father and I actually ate the nine dollar buns.

We went to pick something up at the store and my father honks at a pedestrian trying to walk across the crosswalk in the parking lot. And then they proceed to yell at each other. I proceed to pretend like I don’t know these people. 10 minutes later in the juice aisle my mother attempts to engage me in conversation and proceeds to start crying. I do not do well with public crying. In the span of 18 minutes my father yelled at a stranger and my mother publicly burst into tears.

My husband left for a prior engagement so I drank white wine in a regular glass as not to arise suspicion while preparing Bella’s dinner.

Saturday was a flurry of little things that culminated in a rapid fire of texts to my two closest friends which are transcribed below:

I just went to get some wine. Didn’t want to draw attention to it so I tried to use the awful electric opener I have. It did this.

Then I tried to gnaw it. Which didn’t work. So I had to get a corkscrew.

Now I’m doing this

Yes I was in fact drinking wine in my laundry room like all classy ladies do on Easter Eve.

After stuffing the plastic Easter eggs with chocolate and hiding them about the house I was getting ready for bed when I heard Bear coughing vehemently and went to check it out. I was greeted with projectile vomiting…. on me.

That morning we discovered that the dogs had gone on their own night time Easter egg hunt and had found and eaten an assortment of Easter eggs. The children were then quarantined to the bedroom while we washed, re-stuffed, and re-hid the eggs.

After setting a beautiful Easter table I showered quickly before we sat down to eat only to have a violent allergic reaction to something causing this to happen to my face:

Despite the delicious spread of food Bella refused to eat breakfast and spent the entire time saying “no” and trying to jump out of her high chair.

This is the photo of me being hit in the face with a football:

And that my friends is the uncensored version of Easter.

The 12 Days of Kissass

On the first day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

a big pile of agony.

 

On the second day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

two paranoid co-workers

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the third day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the fourth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the fifth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the sixth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the seventh day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the eight day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

eight interns a-tweeting,

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the ninth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

nine ridiculous requests,

eight interns a-tweeting,

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the tenth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

ten copiers a-copying,

nine ridiculous requests,

eight interns a-tweeting,

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the eleventh day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

eleven beepers beeping,

ten copiers a-copying,

nine ridiculous requests,

eight interns a-tweeting,

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

On the twelfth day of kissass

my shrew love gave to me

twelve tattlers tattling,

eleven beepers beeping,

ten copiers a-copying,

nine ridiculous requests,

eight interns a-tweeting,

seven printers not a–printing,

six bosses a-bossing,

five incoherent emails,

four shrieking voicemails,

three sleepless nights,

two paranoid co-workers,

and a big pile of agony.

 

 

 

Featured Image Snowbow from Jenny Downing’s Flickr

If I Didn’t Work

I’m in a goofy mood. I got to work, saw it was 8:30 am and wanted to start laughing manically like Walt on Breaking Bad.

I’m oddly, inexplicably, gloriously happy. I don’t know if I can even contain it. E and I listened to Celebration and it just sky rocketed my glee. Then I listened to Eye of the Mother Fucking Tiger thinking of Aunt Becky and once I went down that road I couldn’t be contained.

Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop prompt this week has the topic, “what would you do if you didn’t work” I decided that I needed to expand that topic to if I also had exorbitant amounts of money because if I didn’t work currently then I’d be looking for work and eating raisins off the floor. (Why would there be raisins on my floor?)

If I didn’t have a job: well first I’d have to quit my job which I would do in a blaze of glory. I’d breakout my nicknames and tell everyone like it is. And it isn’t good.

I’d probably get in my car and drive home. Probably blast some pop music loudly, light up a cigarette and laugh manically again. Maybe I’d put on Lily Allen’s Fuck You really loudly. No, no. Got to bring it back to Office Space and play Damn it feels Good to be a Gangsta.  

Upon arriving at home I’d probably take off my shoes. Then I would pour myself a mother fucking glass of booze, regardless of the time. I’d ignore my dogs and call the H and probably tell him something like, “Don’t be mad, but I quit my mother fucking job. But it’s okay because I have boat loads of money. In fact I’m going to buy a boat right now.”

Then I’d probably go in the basement load up the world’s slowest computer and send an email to my co-workers. It’d go something like this:

You guys I did it. I left in a blaze of glory, did you see the fire? The smoke? Did the Wicked Witch melt? How about Dandruff? Did he crumble into tiny pieces of white dust and blow away? Is his bald head bleeding and scabbing again? I want you to know I have so much money (from magical job quitting elves) that I’m taking all of us out for unlimited drinks and apps. And tea for the preggers. I’m going to pick you up in my new boat. Meet me on the Mississippi bitches!

Then I’d buy a boat. I’d probably buy a man who can commandeer my boat. Ideally an attractive one. Who I would dress in this:

(yes that’s me on the left circa 2005)

After that I’d probably walk about my house. Maybe pour another drink. Then I’d call a livery service and have them pick me up. I’d have them drive me to the Mall of America where I would spend boat loads of money at Bloomingdales and Nordstrom on things I’ve never been able to afford.

I’d probably go to the spa. Get my hair and nails did.

Then I’d go pick up my friends in my mother fucking boat. But first I’d check in on foursquare.

I would greet them gloriously looking like this:

And we’d sing this song:

I would send tweets throughout the day telling people of my glory.

Then after the booze wore off I’d have someone drive me home in which I would fall asleep next to my most likely already asleep Husband.

In reality, I’d probably eat raisins off the floor, shuffle about my house and gain weight.

Listography: 5 Things I’d Change About Myself

This week’s Listography from Kate Takes 5 is 5 things you’d like to change about yourself, not appearance wise.

1. Patience. Everyone who knows me will you tell you that I’m not a patient person. Its an awful trait that I inherited from my father. I hate waiting for things and especially people. I love to do things, now. Like the weekend we moved into our house I unpacked everything, painted every room, had the carpet redone in the basement, redid the trim of the sliding doors and if it was up to me I would have redone the back splash too. Instead we did that a week later. Its a positive in that I get things done, but usually its a negative.

2. Money Skills. Another terrible trait I inherited from my parents. I don’t think I’ve ever really had a savings. And pretty much since I’ve had a credit card I’ve carried some sort of balance on it. The older I get the bigger that balance seems to be. Its just completely against my nature to save, perhaps because it requires patience.

3. Jealously/Envy. I tend to be a jealous person. I’ve acutely aware of all the things I do not have. And I want to have them. And of course I want to have them now regardless of if I can pay for them. See how all my negative traits interrelate? For example I know that lululemon yoga pants and TOMS shoes are staples of the well to do SAHM. Neither of these things I have. Or can afford. And honestly I don’t particularly like either of them, but I’m still jealous that other people have them. Crazy, right?

4. Insecurity/Fear/Shyness: I feel like these three all go together. Its funny because I was just talking to the Membership Manager about this. I don’t think of myself as an extrovert, but most people do. She said that I can be an extrovert and shy. I think she’s right. I’m shy because I’m insecure and I’m insecure because I’m afraid of people knowing the real me and not abandoning me. I recently read The Snyder Five’s blog post from BlogHer10 and I realized that’s exactly what I think my experience would be if I went. I would feel constantly like I was on the outside looking in. It doesn’t help that I feel like all the bloggers that I read and follow on twitter are the “Big” ones and they likely wouldn’t have the time of day for little old me. That’s where that insecurity comes from I wish that I didn’t have, I wish I could be like this mother fucking anteater:

5. Gossiping: I’m kind of a gossip and I hate that about myself. When I notice that I’m doing it I always stop and feel guilty. I’ve gotten so used to doing it at work all the time because its sort of what we all do to get through the drudgery, but I hate when it sneaks into my personal life. I tend to shoo it away when that happens, but I wish it never did happen.

 

So tell me, what are your five traits?!

Orlando Part II: The Pool of Tears

Thursday after the last conference session we discovered the destination of next year’s conference (San Diego, which was my guess!) and then quickly headed out to the airport — where we discovered our flight was canceled. The downside to this was the fact that we had already checked out of our 5 star resort and weren’t at one of the parks with the rest of the people staying an additional night. Instead we waited in line for over an hour to get vouchers for our hotel since we had quickly re-booked for a flight the next morning on our phones. Needless to say Delta got quite a lot of angry tweets in their direction. 

However, it actually turned out quite alright. In fact better than that, it turned out downright hilarious. Mostly because the three of us that got sent to the Crowne Plaza by the airport had a damn good time. Shockingly our damn good time was 100% alcohol free.

From Chris Crawford Photo

We began our journey with a synchronized swimming routine in the hotel pool. Which was awesome. There is video. I still need to edit it.

Then our journey, due to a sudden downpour of rain, took a turn into the hotel restaurant and from there into my hotel room. Most of our hilarious conversations were documented via twitter battle over whose at the skeevier hotel us or our other three co-workers. Below is said twitter conversation: