So for those of you that felt my last entry was a bit scathing and harsh, my sincerest apologies. Please keep in mind that I am all bark and no bite. I am incredibly sarcastic, sometimes cynical, and frequently crude. Take what I say with a grain of salt. Don't think I hate you if you are my friend if I have ranted about anything that you might do, say, or wear. I'm trying to make this funny so I say what I gots ta' say, OHHH-TAAAAYY?
If you are a size 22 I do not hate you. If you are a size zero I do not hate you. If you are a size zero who bitches about how you just CAN'T gain weight and you hate how people used to tease you for your scrawny chicken legs so you never wear skirts, then I might hate you a little bit. But that's more or less displaced jealousy. If you love your Easy Spirit beige sneakers that are so comfy you can wear them all day long (including when you mall walk with Gladys and Marge), I do not hate you. If you love the mere word "slacks" and shop exclusively at L.L. Bean or Lands' End, I don't hate you. (Although the word "slacks" has the same effect on me as the word "moist". No good.) If you think your permed mullet haircut is just as cute and carefree as the day you first sported it (in 1983), I do not hate you. If you have family jam sessions to Jesus rock in your Windstar, I do not hate you. If you have the willpower to resist feeding your children sugary cereal, juice boxes, and fruit snacks, I do not hate you. If your chidren are only allowed 1 hour of TV per year, I do not hate you. I will probably never have my kids play with your kids but I truly still like you. Then again, you don't want Isabella coming over and teaching your kids her version of the Fergalicious or Bom-Chicka-Wah-Wah dances either. There, we're even. If you can't be bothered to touch up your graying roots or think that Chap Stick is the most extravagant beauty product you can handle, I do not hate you.
So to clarify........I STRONGLY DISLIKE YOU (hate is a nasty word, plus I went to Sophie's 1st Reconciliation meeting tonight and Momma's got some "atoning for her sins" to do..) if you think you are a better person, mom, or woman in general for posessing any of the aforementioned qualities. For example, I wear platform sandles and sassy colored ballet flats. I couldn't even tell you where to look for Easy Spirit. I wear approximately 6-8 beauty products (not including moisturizer) on my face every day and Chap Stick has never been one of them. I should have been arrested by my own guard of Mom Fashion Police when I bought a pair of super cute wide-legged jeans in the JUNIORS department yesterday but it was still better than what I would look like in some snappy slacks. My kids watch a bit of TV but they also read pretty well and play nicely with others. Those of you who can impose the big limits on TV and computers are friggin' saints. Sometimes I just need a little peace and quiet and Spongebob might be the only saving grace I can find. I spend 2 1/2 hours in the salon getting my hair cut and colored every 8 weeks. I had a sort of mullet-esque cut in 5th grade but have never since had the urge to go back. My kids love fruit snacks and cookies but also have been known to ask for raw broccoli and carrots over a piece of candy. No shit.
I try my damndest to be a good mommy, wifey, happy homemaker, cook (ha!), crafty beaver, sex slave, laundress, Dr. Dolittle, lunch packer, homework checker, boo boo kisser, ass kisser, punisher, party planner, grocery shopper, neighbor, driver, teacher, cleaning lady, and fashionista woman I can possibly be. Without a little cursing, humor, and insulting I would lose my mind, well at least worse than I do now. So please, take a pill if you can't handle me. You KNOW me. I'm pretty funny and cool. If you find yourself looking for that vial of holy water to douse yourself with upon reading my blog, please turn off your computer and get out your Good Housekeeping magazine. It won't make you so angry. You clearly can't let go and just laugh at life. Shit I laugh at myself every day.
I'm a good sport, I'll rip on myself.
1.) I have an enormous skull. Ordinary hats and sunglasses give me a headache because of my giant melon. Oh and my ears are lopsided so my sunglasses don't even sit straight on my face. I look like I'm wasted and put them on all jacked up after happy hour and don't even realize it. Please, I know I look like an idiot.
2.) The skin on my gut is the exact texture of a man's balls. I'd like to say thank you to my children for stretching me out and giving me scrotum belly.
3.) I failed accounting twice in college. Math has never been my friend. But then again, I don't know if my eight grade English teacher would be proud of how I write now...but we couldn't really write the F-word in essays at a Catholic school. Sort of frowned upon.
4.) I can consume inordinate amounts of candy. Not just a handful, we're talking movie size boxes of Jujubes, Milk Duds, and Dots. I snarf this shit when I am driving so I don't fall asleep. Better fat than dead, I always say.
5.) I have gas issues. If you had to wear a leotard and tights for the better part of a day, try telling your stomach to not be distended like the Goodyear Blimp. I sometimes fly around the room like a party balloon you let go of when I put my jammies on. I will never release anything in class. A teacher who swears is one thing but one her farts in thunderous unison with Beethoven is quite another.
Shall I go on? It is healthy to make fun of yourself. Don't take everything so damn seriously. Most of the shit I write is for fun, I am not making a statement that my way needs to be THE WAY. Laugh a little. And if you ever think I have a mega ego and am too vain for my own good, watch me try to do hip hop. You'll feel so much better about yourself.
There, are we friends again?
No comments:
Post a Comment