Category Archives: Humor
‘TGIF’ WTH?
TGIF! I say that to fit in. I don’t really subscribe to it.
Not to leave you men out – but generally for women, especially working women with children, the weekend is as much work as Monday-Friday.
TGIF I think was coined by single people in their 20’s with Friday night plans and no weekend responsibilities.
For me, it means I get to stay up past my bedtime (which I struggle to do if I’m being honest, gawd I’m getting old lol). I try! I do! I struggle and end up like a sleepy toddler fighting sleep, just to take advantage of the fact that I don’t have to hit the hay at 9pm.
So much for that myth that ‘grown ups get to do whatever they want’. HA!
It means I don’t have to set the alarm for Saturday – but my internal clock doesn’t cotton to ‘sleeping in’ and neither does Butters, my staring, wagging early bird dog.
Saturday means, errands. Groceries are gathered, the house is cleaned, and of late, Nic and I have decided it serves us well to clean the offices Saturday night to afford us one more morning of ‘sleeping in’. He manages this – we’ve established I don’t. But it’s still nice to get up with some measure of leisure.
Laundry – that’s the Sunday task. And I have this bonkers clock thing going when it comes to Sunday. A countdown. Only 10 hours ’til bedtime, 8 hours ’til bedtime, 4, 3, 2 … crap, Monday is around the corner. That’s how Sunday goes.
There are times it’s more relaxing to actually BE at work.
One day, I’ll schedule a ‘staycation’ and clean like a fiend and shuffle around in my PJ’s with NOTHING on the agenda. ^_^
Workin’ to the oldies
Working away today at my desk with a top 40 station playing in the background. The DJ announces it was time for a song for all the hot moms out there – we’re going ALL the way back, they said.
“Yeah!” I’m thinking. “Let’s go! Let’s go all the way back!”
I was hoping for some Madness or Bon Jovi or Depeche Mode or something.
We went alllll the way back to 2003 with a Fountains of Wayne song.
WTH?!!!
In the past that sound bite has been followed by something from the 80’s maybe early 90’s. I got to be part of the target audience! I got to be ‘hot mom’. Not today.
It then dawned on me as I remembered my son turns 18 next month – ‘Holy Shit! I’m ‘Grandma’ age!’ I mean, God forbid – but I could be!
Calm down grandma – I’m not saying this is a bad thing, I am merely pointing out that just yesterday I was ‘mom’ age and now …
When did this happen??
I took this question to a friend who works next door. (Who, by the way, has nearly 15 years on me and is one hot babe and just this morning sent me a hilarious squirrel picture).
We pondered – have we really changed? I mean, yeah – we’re wiser and worldlier (is that a word? Apparently not, in edit mode it has a red line under it, but it’s staying) have a better grasp of what’s important in life and know more ‘stuff’ – but the essence of who we truly are, the things we like etc. have remained pretty constant.
For me at least. I still laugh at the same things I laughed at in my 20’s, still cry over the same things I cried over in my 20’s. I still love to read, love falling stars – I’m still terrified to break the rules (I even do a U-turn to collect my mail so I’m facing the flow of traffic).
So now of course, my tangent brain takes this ponderance (also not a word) to a new level with this charming thought.
Those old men I excused years ago with an ‘Aw … he’s old, he’s harmless’ when they grabbed or spoke inappropriately, were doing those things with their 20-year-old essence in their older bodies. Ewwwwww!
Shame on you! Shame!
Back to the music thing. You know, I took my son to his first concert, it was the Beach Boys. Then to see Bret Michaels, total trip since I was his age when my friend Donna and I saw Poison (with Ratt funnily enough – the irony caught up to me later). Then just this last summer to see the Summerland Tour.
So we’ll end this with the photo of the Gin Blossoms singer Robin Wilson and this old grandma aged woman.
Rock On! To all you moms out there – and rockin’ grandmas too.
Car cursed
I’ll let it tell its own story. Prologue goes like this: my son took his girlfriend to the movies. Son and car returned at 10:30 pm.
I probably shouldn’t have joked with another lady in the waiting room (after we both noticed the ‘shock’ poster) that ‘knock on wood – I’ve NEVER had to buy those!’
Man announced (as I was now 2 hours late to work) “Your back shocks are dead – they are not doing a thing”.
Super.
Duper.
Not today buddy. Today I have spent 3/4 of my paycheck on these flipping tires.
Had to giggle when the salesman told me they would last 50,000 miles. I wanted to say that was probably longer than my car would last. But didn’t. It wasn’t that festive of an occasion and I was afraid my jesting would come out bitter.
I am totally, utterly, completely car cursed.
But! I am VERY blessed when it comes to my son coming out of them unscathed (twice now)
And when it comes to food product vandalism (mustard vs egg yolk)
So! I’ll count my blessings and avoid looking at, let alone counting, my bank account.
“Bah Luvbug!”
I’ve been hitting the conversation hearts I stocked up in my office ‘for the customers’ like a crack fiend. They’re are a LOT better these days than they used to be FYI. The pink ones don’t taste like Pepto Bismol anymore – and the white ones don’t taste like chalk.
The other day I happened to actually look at one of the hearts before inhaling it … and to my horror and chagrin. It was BLANK!
What the heck? Is that bad luck? Foreshadowing? A really bad omen? Is it as bad as getting a blank fortune from a fortune cookie?? (And for someone not interested in having a valentine, I’m sure worked up over this heart aren’t I?)
My friend Lisa so amusingly said ‘you’re supposed to turn it around’.
Ha ha.
I can assure you there was no writing on either side.
I am doomed. DOOMED I tell you.
But – the rest of you be sure to have a happy Valentines Day tomorrow.
Love you all bunches!
(Oh, and no, you don’t have to adjust the color on your monitor – I am now a Brunette. Thought I’d see if I got any smarter – it isn’t working yet)
Where can I get a Papal application?
Heard the news this morning that Pope Benedict XVI was resigning. (Do you lose God points when you quit that post??)
First thought that came to my head was:
Good thing other people select the next person for the position. Can you imagine applying for the job?
Someone that knows you is bound to comment:
“See! I TOLD you they thought they were holier than thou!”
Debauchery Soup 