aaaaaand here we are

Hi. I’m in one of those “I feel like talking/typing but I have nothing of value to say but am going to post anyway” kind of moods. Which usually ends up to be long rambling paragraphs about baby poop or the dream I had last night. But you don’t mind or else you wouldn’t be here reading. Or maybe you’ve already clicked off and are perusing elsewhere by now. And I’m good with that because I don’t know if you did that or not, nor do I care because this is my spot in the cyberverse so everyone just do their thang and we’ll all live in peace and harmony. Capeesh?

Today started off unusually horribly and has now tapered off to just the usual general horrible-ness. Ha. Y’all know you love my cynicism. I’ve spent all day redoing, adding to, b.s.ing my way through a document that no one will read, nor does anyone care about. It’s lame busy work and I wanted to scream and throw things and spit and roll naked down the hall in protest. But I did not. What I did was smile, nod, say “sure, no problem” like I always do and then stick my tongue out at the back of the offending party as she moved on to other meaningless tasks. Because I am a whiney adolescent at heart. But I am a whiney adolescent with a college degree hanging on my beige office wall dammit. So a big boo-ya to that, bishes.

Moving on to kid stuff…kiddo is an alien in my house. I have no idea who this creature is that does new and strange things every day, blows chunks of half chewed cheddar goldfish all over my face and gives me snotty kisses. Last night she insisted that I wear the fairy wings (yeah, you know the ones) and just do nothing. Just wear the wings mommy, really, that’s all I want. And so I did and she wore hers and we watched Sesame Street and ran around the living room. She’s started calling the dog (Cooper), “poop-poop” because either she can’t say “cooper” or she just thinks calling the dog “poop-poop” is funny. I kind of like Poop-poop better too so maybe I’ll start calling him that as well. Make life a bit more interesting for the canine ya know.

Book stuff…book club is this Saturday and we’re reading The Help, by Kathryn Stockett. Recommended to me by my mom and then I recommended it to the book club because any book my mom likes is usually one I will like as well. That said, have I read it yet? Heck no. I’ve got a great start though. Its really good, I just seem to be easily distracted and am reading about four books at once. Focus is a quality I have completely lost. I’m determined to finish it by Saturday though. Although, I could continue to fuel my reputation as the bookclub slacker…

Misc stuff….

I need to email my mom and my friend in NY, and call another friend. I’m kind of bad at keeping in touch. I used to be awesome at it but now…not so much. That focus problem maybe. Who knows.

Gettin’ ma hair did tomorrow night, which means I’ll be putting the base color on tonight. Woot. Then I’m planning to cause a big scene on Monday by marching my crazy headed self up to this really really really annoying lady who insulted my parenting skilz because of my hair and say “yo, gotz ma hair did…you like? no? oh, bet you wouldn’t like my tattoo either…wanna see? no? ohhhhh, dangzit, i can smell my kiddo doing meth right now because her momma done got crazy colored streaks in her hair, inked up and pierced…heaven for-freakin’-bid”. And then I’m flouncing off like I’m the coolest thing since those pants she’s wearing pulled up to her droopy boobages. Boo-ya again!

I’m off work Friday. Double freakin’ woot. The plan is to finally finish painting my bathroom. Second coat. We gotta get moving on selling the house again now that tax season has bit the dust. Too bad I’m not more excited about moving but it’s just gonna be across town so the scenery will be basically the same. I prefer bigger changes but this will be a nice diversion.

Did you see the quote I found about cheese today? It made me giggle. “Cheese – milk’s leap toward immortality”. – Clifton Fadiman

Peace out. Word. Whatever.

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