How I amuse myself on a Saturday

The husband is on his way to a bachelor party today. Earlier, he put a blanket and a pillow into a bag, as it's probably going to be a competitive sleeping situation at the house they're going to, and he's sure as hell going to be in no shape to drive home. He forgot them, so I called and he was coming back to get them...


I ran into the kids' room and grabbed a teddy bear and a pair of overnight training pants and wrapped them up in the blanket. He didn't notice.


Heh heh.

Old Ass Goddess

I was perusing the personal care aisle at WalMart, looking for razor cartridges when I came upon a bonus kit. Women just love a good bonus kit...they are generally about the same price as the normal product, but with free shit. There's generally no down side, and the packaging was this really cute shade of purple, so I picked it up.

I got to the checkout, and the lady (who was probably in her early 40's) saw it and commented that she'd gotten one for her daughter and how much she loved it. "I'm sure yours will too!" she said brightly as I wheeled away. This comment confused me...it's a shave kit, do I have to have a daughter in order to buy one?

I arrived home and took it out of the packaging...

It's the "Girl 2 Goddess" shave kit. There's directions on how to give yourself a pedicure, and stickers. Fucking STICKERS.

I kinda feel like an ass right now.

Another f'ing interview

This one's in Boston, which is good and bad because of transportation issues (good: can take train, as the company is very close to the train station, train is way cheaper than gas. bad: I have no car to get my ass home in a timely manner should the shit hit the fan.)

So we'll see.

Fuck me, I'm a liar again. Damn this blog and it's crack-like addictive ways.

Make a liar out of me

Figures, I write this swan-song post and then I actually have a good story to tell. Whatever, I left it open that I could drop a post once in a while, so here goes.

The night before school let out, of course I was running around like a nut getting teacher gifts together. Having been a teacher myself, and knowing what my satanic spawn have most likely put their teachers through this school year, I realize that this is a very important gesture. I bought candles, gift bags, various little trinkets and cards and was putting them all together when the husband drops the bomb.

H: "What did you get the bus driver?"
K: "'scuse me?"

Now, I leave for work at the ass-crack of dawn, and never have even met this individual, but the husband is apparently quite friendly with her as she has been flexible with pickup times and is very nice to Andrew...like she actually talks to him and pretends to like him, unlike the other bus drivers with their stony faces and screechy voices. Shit shit shit...it was 10pm, and I was just about to hit the sack at a decent hour for a change, but we can't skip the damned bus driver so out I went in search of Dunkin Donuts gift cards. I needed to get gas anyway, so two birds with one stone and what not.

I stop at the gas station closest to my house, and find myself unable to purchase gas due to a "pin number error." Fuck...now, I could just use my credit card, but I'm stubborn and decided that I would just hit another gas station on the way home from Dunkins. I drive across the street and walk in, determined not to be one of those lazy motherfuckers who sits in drive-thru for no good reason.

Our Dunkins is also a Baskin Robbins on the other side, and this particular night the Dunkins' side had a big sign that said "THIS SIDE CLOSED." So I walk over to the Baskin Robbins side, only to find 3 chicks standing around ordering ice cream.

Chick1: "What flavor should I get?"
Chick2: "Girl, the strawberry swirl is off tha HOOK."
Chick1: [to the girl behind the counter] "How big is a small?"
Girl: [holds up small cone]
Chick1: "What about the waffle cone?"
Girl: [holds up waffle cone]
Chick1: "They the same price?"
Girl: "No, waffle cone is more."
Chick1: "But why? You still gettin' one scoop either way."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw 3 guys in Tae Kwon Do uniforms practicing their moves on each other. One of them knocked over the metal napkin holder on the counter, sending it flying across my feet. Time to go.

During all the time I spent by the ice cream counter, I saw someone working drive-thru. Sweet. I storm out of there, heading to my car, only to push the glass door on the side that doesn't open, sending me bouncing off of it like a ping pong ball. Fuck. Fuck. The ice cream bitches snickered at my misfortune. I silently cursed them to wear their strawberry swirl on their already considerable thighs for the rest of their lives. Out to the car.

I got in and started pulling around the building, only to find that the Dunkins parking lot is apparently the local hangout for the suburban kids who are too young to buy booze. I sat behind a Crown Victoria (obviously Daddy's car) with a teenager leaning into the passenger side window for a solid 2 minutes, increasingly ready to jump out and beat the fuck out of the driver as each second passed. Finally, there was room to go around, and I had to restrain myself not to mow one of these little fucks down. Into drive-thru...

I ordered the gift cards, and the chick at the window looked very, very confused. Oh man. They always put the new staff on the night shift, I should have known better. Fuuuuuuuck.

Window Chick: "So, 2 gift cards?"
K: "Yes please."
Window Chick: "5 dollars each?"
K: "Yes."
Window Chick: [tapping away, beeping can be heard]
Window Chick: "5 dollars...that's five-zero-zero, right?"
K: "I'm pretty sure, yeah."
Window Chick: [more beeping, receipts flying out of the machine, BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP]

10 minutes later, I had gift cards. To this moment, I don't know if she even did it right, I probably gave the bus driver gift cards that aren't even activated. That would be just my luck.

Now all I needed was gas. Gas, and I could go home and go to bed. Finally.

I pulled into the 2nd gas station, and saw signs on the pumps. No, God, please God no...

"WE ARE OUT OF PREMIUM AND PLUS. SORRY!"

Per my husband, I am not allowed to put anything below plus into my car. So I couldn't get gas. What the FUCK kind of gas station runs out of PREMIUM and PLUS with gas prices being the way they are? Who the FUCK can afford PREMIUM and PLUS right now??? And you're SORRY??? Yeah, you'll be fucking SORRY when I come back with a fucking GUN because you bastards won't give me the gas I want... Swearing and beating the steering wheel, I headed to the convenience store to pick up milk and bread, which is the standard stop that I make almost daily to keep my bottomless-pitted children fed.

I walked in, and of course there's only one guy working so late at night, and I've got one of those fuckers who stands at the counter scratching tickets and ordering more with the winnings. 5 minutes I stood there. I was actually shaking and feeling very, very violent by that point. I just wanted to go to bed, and this son of a bitch with his $20 lottery tickets was standing in my way. He's lucky I wasn't armed.

I walked into the house at 11:30. Over an HOUR to get milk, bread, Dunkins, and gas that I never even ended up getting. I was red in the face and sweating, and the husband was looking at me like I was a crazy person. I ranted to him about the entire experience, finished up the cards and bags and went to bed all worked up.

I didn't get to sleep for another hour. And I knew I still had to get up early to get gas.

Dear Readers,

It's been nearly 2 years since I started this blog, almost 400 posts full of reflection, observation, and some often nonsensical crap that has no place on the Internet or anywhere else. I started it during a time in my life when everything was terribly confusing, a time when I needed an outlet badly enough that I chose to pour every thought in my twisted little brain out onto the web for strangers to peruse. I was 27, questioning everything in my life and everything I thought I'd ever believed in, all the things I'd ever held to be absolutely true...it was all up in the air, and I was searching for some magical thing that would turn my life into something that would finally make sense, something I could finally feel proud of.

2 years later, I feel no closer to that magical thing. I'm in a different career, but not one that I feel the least bit good about (though my paycheck is quite a bit larger than it was 2 years ago...remember, this side of 2 years ago I was slinging packages at UPS). I've made a few new friends, but none I couldn't live without. I'm a little smarter, perhaps a bit wiser, and have even sprouted a few gray hairs to match.

My children are thriving, and I'm starting to think that maybe I haven't fucked them up too bad after all. 2 years ago, Cameron had just been diagnosed with Autism (which he seems to be outgrowing, thank GOD), Andrew still wasn't talking much or progressing academically, and Brandon's behavior issues were just starting to escalate...so in that area of my life, I can say there's been definite progress. Really, that's what's most important, and as far as the "legacy" that I will leave behind, they are and will continue to be my proudest accomplishment. Everything else is trivial. If they're ok, then nothing else matters.

The kids are out of school as of today, and my heart is just aching because this will be the first summer that I won't be there for them during the day. It doesn't feel right. I'm praying that this will be the first and only summer that I have to be away from them. I know they'll be well cared for and will have a ton of fun without me, but I hate it all the same.


My marriage is good, too. I'm married to someone who makes me laugh every day and who would lay down in front of a train for me and the kids, so again, what more can you ask for? I'm lucky. The husband is a good doobie. There aren't many like him.

In spite of these "good" things, I'm still terribly disappointed in myself as a person, and I'm starting to think that maybe I'll never get to a place where I'm content with myself and my accomplishments. Perhaps my expectations are too lofty, but at the same time I feel they should be. A professor of mine once said, "You're either green and growing, or you're ripe and rotting." Personally, I'd rather not rot, but at the same time I'd rather not be dousing myself with pesticides in order to grow into the nice tall vine that I wish I could be. Perhaps climbing the trellis isn't for me; maybe I should stick close to the ground and end up growing into a nice healthy shrub.

For now, I'm staying in my job, but actively looking to greener pastures. I won't make any rash decisions, but my plans for the long term definitely do not include my current employer. I'm hoping to go back to teaching, not this year, but the following year at the latest. The husband has some prospects on the horizon that could allow me to do just that, so fingers crossed that it works out. I miss it so much; when I was teaching, it was the one time in my life that I actually felt like I was accomplishing something. I need to get back to that place. I wasn't meant to be a cubicle warrior.

So here I am, 2 years later, better off in some ways and worse off in others...I suppose this is normal, the ebb and flow that is life, but I'd truly hoped to be further along in the life plan than I am. At the same time, I don't feel the inner conflict that I had when I started this thing, hence I don't feel the need or have the inspiration to write as regularly as I used to. Even when I have a good story, the words don't come as easily as they used to, probably because I work full time and don't have the hours that I used to have to put my thoughts into type. Perfectionist that I am, if I don't have the time to dedicate, I simply won't do it.

Anyway, if anything major changes, I'll drop a post. Otherwise, I don't think I'll be stopping in much any more. To my few loyal contributors, I thank you for "listening" when I really needed it, and for putting up with my increasing absences and decreasing post quality. You rock. And you helped me more than you'll ever know.