What's weird is, I'm really not.
Or at least I didn't used to be...
maybe I'm getting bitchier as I let go of the need to please everyone else.
anyway.
the point is:
today was one of those days where the kids seem to be working for the CIA--
or whoever has a vested interest in my loss of sanity.
(god DAMN these cookies are good!! and I feel guilty for a reason besides the obvious, but I'm getting ahead of myself...)
anywho, it was a stressful day for me, I guess.
lots of whining and fussing and MESSES.
So.
last word from hubby around 2pm was that he would home at "the regular time"--5:30 or 6:00.
It has now reached 8pm and he hasn't answered his phone for the last 3 hours.
I have finally secured my solitude, at the very least, and cleaned up 90% of their messes...
just slipped into my PJs, and hunkered down in the main floor bathroom for a nice, relaxing pee.
(hey! you trying peeing with 2 five year olds swarming you!! not. fun.)
when.
the doorbell rings.
what
the
fuck??? blaaaaaaaaaaah......
a feeling of resignation washes over me as I check my jammies for obvious stains or modesty issues and head for the front door.
three cute little women standing there, one holding a (fucking luscious!!!) package of homebacked chocolate chip (oh my mouth-gasm) cookies....
for you Utah readers: yup. The Ward found me.
Oh, I'm so ashamed...
My mom raised me to be polite.
but jesus fucking christ.
It was bad timing.
so, they all smiled and the one holding the (god damn mouth watering) cookies said,
"Hi, we're from the Ward, just going around visiting everyone...."
The bitch who was in possession of my body/mouth said,
"I don't have a ward."
good lord, I'm nasty.
here they are...
with COOKIES ("c" is for the crumbs i'll lick out of the bottom of the bag, "oo" is for the sound I'll make while scarfing them, "k" is for the kinetic energy I'll need to burn these calories, "i" is for the incredible taste sensations, "e" is for the elegance with which they sat, in their little celephane bag with ribbons, "s" is for the saliva I'm accruing just thinking of the rest of them over there on the counter...)
ahem.
where was I??
See.
here's the thing about the Mormons.
Individually?
I like just about every one of 'em I've met.
that's how they GET you!
they're LIKEABLE!!
It's really more the misogyny and opressiveness that I detest about the religion,
than it is the people themselves.
I mean...Utah is full of asshats, and the fact that most of them are mormon makes the lines all a little blurry for me.
help.
anyway, I finally broke down and offered the "I just put on my pjs and i'm mad at my husband for being late, I'm sorry I was so gruff with you." excuse.
and we chatted pleasantly for a bit...
but I still feel like an asshole.
and eating the cookies makes me feel super guilty.
because one of those nice ladies spent her time baking beautiful (gorgeously edible) cookies. for a bunch of thankless bitter britches like me????
siiiigh.
I'll probably have to re-enlist.
HOW CAN YOU FIGHT COOKIES???
so.
I really needed to vent about my litter box of a day,
but instead those poor sweet ladies got a very inhospitable welcome.
oh, I didn't just stop at "I didn't think I had a Ward." (that's like a congregation for those of you who don't do Mormon speak...)
oh no. I went on with a little something like, "how did they find me?" and a dash of "I was hoping they wouldn't" toppped off with a "god DAMN I hate Mormons!!" ok, not that last one...but I can't remember any more of them.
one thing I do know is this:
Thursday, my kids may not have school, but I.
I get my carpet laid (yes it's a firm date, but we'll see...)
and.
I get to drop said demon spawn off at the demonic grandmother's house,
and keep heading south.
Cedar City, baby.
Shakespeare Festival.
And on Friday we'll go to Zion or Bryce and hikey hike.
I am pretty sure that I'll have to wait...
but I can't!!!!!!!
The promise of this weekend is literally saving my life at the moment.
fucking full moon.
fucknig hormones.
fucking husband.
(why yes, he is, and fairly skilled, I might add...)
do you want to know the worst part of him being late and incommunicado?
(or however that's fucking spelled...)
that it is A. probably entirely justified and 2. he's tireder than I am.
yes, I went from A to 2, and yes, I used the wrong superlative form of 'tired'.
I'm pretty sure you all know how to
FUCK OFF.
if not, email me.
I'll give you detailed instructions.
ok, I feel a little better...
I did encourage them to invite me to fun stuff...
bleh.
It's really not the religious aspect of it that's making me feel so bad, just for the record--
it's the fact that was kinda rude.
to nice people.
makes me want to cry, actually.
and here we are, back to the full moon/hormones issue again.
sorrry...
let's look at a beautiful picture of the sunset in Maine.
so we can cheer up.
Oh yeah, and I typed responses to yesterday's comments, but then my son pushed the escape key.
apparently that deletes haloscan comments if they're not posted yet.
and I had already punished him every way I know how, and I was on the phone finalizing details for this weekend with the other couple, so he pretty much got away with it.
he got a firm lecture about how important mommy's computer is, but I'm pretty sure he didn't give a flying fuck.
I should probably mention how incredibly beautiful and smart and funny my little boys are...
just so that knot in the pit of my stomach doesn't expand to the size of Brazil.
fuck this day.
fuck it in the ass.
with no lube and no foreplay.
Sorry I've been so grouchy lately...
I bet I'll have something more cheerful posted by at least Sunday.
(oh boy, here comes the other flavor of hormones...)
I really love you guys.
I honestly truly completely do.
sure, some of you I'm closer to than others, but I really love you all.
I love reading your words, and seeing your lives.
I love this bizarre little social situation, where it's like we're friends...only digital.
Some day...
I will drive around the country being crazy and free, writing and thinking, singing and dancing--
and when I do.
I will come and visit each and every last damned one of ya.
Now.
I'm going to go put some time in on my compilation book thingy.
because if Tony can do a blook, I can do a blook.
(I'm not linking him because if I do, he might come here, and I wouldn't want to drag his Rock Star ass all the way over here just for this post.)
have a good day......night, whatever.
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