That's one of my favorite CDs.
Although, I'll admit it was forced.
I stole the name from someone I never met,
and put songs on it that I thuoght would go with a fuzzy mood.
I'm such a poser.
I slept deep and hard last night--
sounds dirtier than it is, trust me.
I have to write a review of that awful play without being too harsh...
don't know if I can muster it.
At least I got confirmation that they are always terrible,
and I noticed in the program that they've been around for TWENTY years!!
What the FUCK?
How is this possible?
Why is this possible?
Someone ought to put them out of their misery.
Seriously.
Too cold in winter, too hot in summer.
Decent line delivery for the most part, but...
Just the whole atmosphere is dank and dusty and dark where it should be light, and ligth where it should be dark.
So the birthday...
My kids saw to it that I didn't have a very good day.
Right up until I snapped and took them to the drop-in daycare,
so that I could go get my license renewed, mail a package to my Dad (hey, bite me, a day late is early for me!), return movies to Blockbuster, pick up my prescription (fucking doctor. don't get me--or my thyroid--started.), and have a quick dinner with my best friend before their tee ball game.
See, just so you know, I had planned to go to something fun with the kids.
And I had planned to take THEM to a nice dinner, and have cake with them.
I was PLANNING to enjoy my day.
But they couldn't see the vision.
They wouldn't buy into my grand plan.
No, Oliver had to stab my new, luscious exercise ball with a FORK (yes, entirely on purpose...)
and they both had to take a large bag of pretzels and throw them at the walls and/or ceiling until they shattered.
all.
over.
my.
front room.
gah.
And there were more incidents, but I'm fresh out of vehemence.
Ok, so, I dropped them off, and pushed "random" on my CD player.
The soldier song lined itself up first (new Live CD) and made me a little weepy,
followed directly by The River (not "of tears," jerks), which makes me a little weepy...
HEY.
I'm hormone-besieged, motherfuckers, watch out!
So then I headed for the address that my husband had told me to go to for my new license.
The DMV.
Which is USUALLY where you get a motherfucking license.
oh, I was hungry, too. That's an important thing to know.
So I drove, and drove, and DROVE.
Finally reached the point where I knew I had been given a faulty adress (and it wasn't in Fawlty Towers, sadly), so I turned around and headed east, towards the location I figured would be the next possible location.
I was right.
Yippeeee!
So I checked my hair and cruised inside.
"I need to renew my license."
I remember in slow-motion watching her reach for something under the counter,
thinking she was giving me a form to fill out or something...
nope.
It was a list of addresses and phone numbers.
In her cold voice, tinged with bitterness at her lame-ass life, the woman handed it to me and said, without making eye-contact before going back to flirting with the cop who was standing behind her desk, "You'll have to contact the Driver's License Division. We Only do registration."
FUCKING CUNT.
I was enraged.
All that running around, wasting precious time when I could have been racing towards my luscious dinner....grrr......
so I slammed my car door and I'm pretty sure I had already started crying very angry (hunger-induced) tears.
Then it seemed like one of those surreal moments when every car in the entire parking lot is intentionally working on keeping YOU in your parking space.
I finally had a chance to back out, and I was in one of those end spaces, in a cramped lot, where making the necessary turn to get OUT of the space without hitting any of the near-by morons requires driving over a curb just a little.
My car can handle that, no biggie, but as I discovered it, there were again 43 million cars swarming me, so I pulled back ANGRILY into my space and screamed profanities at my windshield.
As I peeked over my shoulder I see a "nice" man trying to motion me out from his big black truck.
Nice.
Psh. As if.
fucker.
So, angrily, I backed over the god damned curb--spitefully, even, and with pupose!
I peeled angrily-but-cautiously out of that goddamned place and squealed off down the road.
In the wrong direction, because I was too pissed off to wait for a left turn.
So I drove and cried.
I look hot when I'm crying, so it didn't bother me too much. heh.
And I tried to figure out what to do.
Tee ball was rapidly approaching and I realized that I had cut it too close to begin with, and would need to cancel dinner.
The post office was non-negotiable, so I went there next.
Nice puffy red eyes, and all.
Hey! I said I look hot WHILE crying, not after.
Post office had a long line, but all went well.
I left a message for the best friend, cancelling our last minute plans.
Then I went to the store and bought a cake, and some beautiful, dark yellow roses with a reddish edge, and some avocadoes and tomatoes and lime-flavored tortilla chips.
I went home and put it all away.
I checked email and read a couple of blogs.
Then I tried to find my kids' tee ball shirts, which I had purposely washed the night before.
one of them was missing, which reminds me, there was a little tiny shirt in the washer with my clothes this morning--a chick's shirt stating, "diamonds are a girl's best friend."
my first reaction was that the live-in bro-in-law had left in the washer (he did do a load of laundry right before mine) and it belonged to some girl he picked up somewhere...although, that does beg the question of whether or not he's been smuggling girls into the house, but the next thought I had was that it was in with my husband's stuff from a business trip...
I've just realized that it's highly unlikely because I already did all the laundry from his last trip.
But it was a strange little moment.
My husband is the least likely to stray of all the men on the planet, including monks.
But...men have been known to go to strip clubs, and you just never know.
So I'll have to track down its origins and let ya know.
Anyway...the point is, looking for the stupid tee ball shirt made me a little late,
and when I picked the kiddos up, they didn't want to go to the game anyway.
I felt like a loser, letting them just not go, but frankly I did NOT have the right state of mind to deal with that.
AND.
I was still hungry.
I might have had a yogurt when I got home from the store.
And I maaaay have shovelled a couple of angry forkfuls of frosting-laden cake into my mouth...
but I was still hungry.
So we went to my favorite place, Rumbi, a Hawaiian Grill.
If you call ahead, it's always ready when you get there, which is nice because sometimes there's a long line.
It's sort of a walk-up-and-order place, but believe me when I tell you their food runs off the table and takes a flying leap into your mouth and the sweet love that is made is enough to give orgasms to people just watching.
hot DAMN that shit's good.
I had a chicken teriyaki sandwich with pineapple slices on it...
so.
damn.
good.
My mouth is watering.
I ordered a chicken and rice bowl with Jamaican jerk sauce for the boys, but they didn't eat much, so I have glorious and revered leftovers!
Oh, my lucky, lucky fridge--to hold such a thing!
Actually, my fridge is rather down on its luck...
it has a leak somewhere between the freezer and fridge.
It is going to have to be replaced.
I am pretending to be sad, because it really is a great fridge, but...
I love getting NEW things!!
Oh....speaking of which, mr. sweetest of all husbands was so sad yesterday, about my lack of joyousness and his absence.
He said that I have a present that's arriving today...
which was a pretty cool surprise, since I thought I'd already gotten my presents.
He was so sweet and sincere on the phone that it made me cry...yeah, SHUT UP.
Hormones blow.
except when they make ya horny.
ANYWAY.
So then I put the kids to bed and best friend arrived with wine and we had cake and talked until our ears bled,
and then I did a little work and went to bed, setting my alarm so that I could get up and finish my film project this morning.
She saved the day!
Oh, and incidentally, popping in here to read everyone's wonderful birthday wishes was the highlight of my day, too.
I don't mean to make the day sound like a horror show, or anything.
It just was one!
And.
Today...I'm going to puss out on the "good mother" front and take my kids to day care again.
I have tons of unfinished errands, and lunch plans.
I have a whole new respect for working mothers at this stage.
I've always known it would be hard, but I didn't know what exact type of hard it would be.
I can't stand the way it feels to constantly be putting someone else in charge of them--they're my babies!!
Yes, I'll be back to bitching about how suffocating it is to be home with them by early next week.
never fear.
Ok.
enough procrastination....
wish me luck in the home stretch.
yes, Domestic Goddess, I realize I am probably still not "finished".
That's ok, too.
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