Christmas Shopping
It's nearly here, and no, I'm still not through shopping. I've got about half done though which thrills me to no end. There's just something fabulous about knowing that you only have to brave the wal-mart traffic and check-out lines one more time.

The list, as it were (strike-thru denotes item is bought):
Kid: X-box game, clothes, shoes, and various junk for stocking
Ex-hubby: Knife sharpener, cologne(?)
Sister: Bag-o-bathroom-goodies
Brother-in-law: ??
Mom: Perfume
Grandmother: ??
Grandfather: Flannel pajama pants, 2 pair
Supervisor: Belt, cologne.
Supervisor's Kids: Girlie toys
Nephews: Gift certificates
Auntie: ??
Ex-brother-in-law & girlfriend: Gift Certificate

So far, that's all I can come up with. Wish me luck!

I suck at this Christmas junk.

Christmas Bitch

It's Christmas time, again, and I'm not nearly ready for it as usual. What is it with me and apparently half the rest of the world? I've met several people that Christmas shop year round, and damned if they don't have great fun on Christmas morning opening their many gifts and such without a worry in the world.

Not me, however.

I wait until the payday or two before Christmas and therefore must engage in the inevitable tight-fisted argument with some wicked, ugly bitch at the department store over which one of us had the damn thing first. Or, there just isn't anything close to what you're looking for left, and you're left holding a flashlight and a manicure set like those are really things that someone on your list actually wants.

Puhleeze!

This will be the first year that I won't be shopping for a husband - well, of course I'll get something for him from my little one, but not from ME. That's kind of strange. It will also be the first year that I'm getting something for a little girl, and that's even more strange. I haven't the slightest idea what to buy a little girl. Baby dolls, and toy trinkets line the aisles, but which one?? Totally lost.

It's also the first year as an adult that I won't be receiving something from a "sweetie" so to speak. Talk about sucking out loud.

Anywho, I shall be spending the holidays at work making the all-important dollar in order to pay for the flashlights and manicure sets, so if I don't get a chance before then, Merry Christmas to all of you!

Merry Friggin Christmas

This past week, I had the honor of taking my friend out for dinner. In this podunk town, it's impossible to find a decent steak, and considering that's his favorite meal and I was making a stab at being somewhat impressive, I decided to take him out of town to a little hole-in-the-wall place that's been touted for it's steaks.

The evening started out pretty damned good. I made arrangements for the little one to stay at a neighbor's house for the evening, and felt quite good about that because he'd spent the night there just the night before and had a blast. Plenty of kids - perfect set-up. I dressed and as usual felt pretty damned ugly and fat, but that's a normal thing....we won't even get on that subject.

So I go over to pick him up, and decided to stop by the ATM machine to grab some cash - never know if this place accepts checks or plastic, and I could just imagine the worst case scenario there. Of course, it's "TEMPORARILY OUT OF ORDER" so I'm just going on a prayer for Master Card acceptance. The least of my worries.

Then over to pick up my 'date', and there he was...looking as good as he possibly could...and this of course was favorable. All was pretty much in order, and we were off to the hole-in-the-wall.

He jumps in the truck with a set of jumper cables.

Apparently he'd intended on jumping me off, so to speak. Best case scenario, I was in for wild and kinky sexual activity of some sort later on.

"My brother just called from just down the road. You mind if we stop on the way and give him a jump?"

There went that idea.

"Of course not. Let's go, it's cold and I'll bet he's freezing."

Battery power was apparently not the cause of his brother's problem, so I suggested he drive and we took his brother and his sister-in-law home. Never was I introduced properly. Fuck up numero uno.

A little out of the way, but quickly we get in the right direction. A 30-minute drive would call for something to drink on the way, and probably a little gas in the truck. So we stop at the gas station a few miles down the road. Undecided about who was going to get out to make a purchase, we both did, and he left the keys in the ignition with the lights on. As I climbed out, my arm slid over the door lock button, and shut the door.

You can imagine my horror.

The place we were going was highly recommended and with warning: "when you want the best you have to pay for it" so that's going to cost me. That, and the fact that I now have to pay a locksmith to come out after hours to get me back into my truck adds up to fuck up numero dos.

And it's late. And I'm hungry. And sitting in a truck stop full of hamburgers and fried pies. I resisted.

The locksmith finally arrives and in about 3 minutes, the stars twinkle, the planets align, and all is right with the world again. We're on our way to an amazing steak.

We get there and find the place which was crowded beyond what anyone would think of when you say "crowded." I've made the mistake of telling him that the ATM was out of order, and have no cash. Of course, paranoia sets in, and he sets off in search of an ATM. There were banks....several, easily accessible, no ATM in sight. (What kinda shit is that anyway?)
I persevered, plastic is in fact accepted, and we ordered what turned out to be two of the most wonderful, mouth-watering steak dinners ever cooked. This pleases me because he's quite hard to please, and he was very pleased. Stars, planets...everything all over again.

So we drive back to town. What to do now?

And here it comes.

"You wanna get a motel room and spend the night?"

Holy shit. You have got to be kidding, right? I just spent in excess of 70 bucks on you (and by the way, Merry Christmas) and you wanna get in my pants.

Nevertheless, it has been a while...

...But, we'll just call this fuck up numero tres, and leave it at that.

So I get home and walk up to the door and find a note: "Mom, when you get home, please, please come over and wake me up. I'm scared and homesick. Please come get me."

Before I can finish reading it, the door behind me opens and there stands my little one with tears in his eyes. I swear, I'm having the hardest time with this being-single-and-going-out-thing. Guilt-ridden, or hermit?? These are my choices.

Needless to say, the evening was somewhat less enjoyable than what I imagined.

Apartment Living
I've learned a few things since I moved to my apartment. Examine:
- How to sound as though you're moving furniture to the tenant below you at 2:00am every day.
- The enjoyment of dumping the trash any day you want to.
- The ability to wake someone next door from a sound and restful sleep by screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs at precisely 11:45pm.
- Free toilet repair service!
- How nice it used to be to have a washer/dryer in the house, this learned by having to schlepp across the street twice a week in rain, snow, sleet or hail to do laundry.
- No yard work!
- The virtue of disliking someone's spoiled, lying, smart-mouthed, doorbell-ringing-and-running, water-gun-filled-with-piss-shooting, peeping-tom'ish, playing-with-condoms-in-the-pool, obscenity-spouting, never-reprimanded 14-yr-old juvenile delinquent without remorse.
- No water bill!
- How lovely it is to search for a place to park after work. (I live in the bottom-first unit, the first parking space is MINE, dammit!)

Please...do feel free to leave your favorite things about apartment living in my new comments section :) Speak to me, my minion!

A Riddle:

Ok, so you and your buddy are talking about how nice it would be to have someone to spend time with, go to the movies, to dinner, etc. and she goes on about how lonely she is, and how she'd really like you to hook her up. You just happen to have a friend, only he's become more of a friend, and for many reasons you don't really see that it's going much further than friendship.

You understand the difference between friend and friend, right?

Good. Moving on....

So anyway, you've conspired to set your buddy up with your friend, but there's also an acquaintance (that would probably be better suited anyway), so you've got him set over to the side as a just-in-case for your buddy because after all, the weekend is nearly upon us. So, your friend (approached with this information by you) is undecided, as in "Do I have to answer right now? Can't I think about it for a week or so?" and you find yourself pushing him for a more solid answer.

Ok, here's the riddle part.

Are you asking your friend to do this because:

A. You want your friend and your buddy to have someone's company to enjoy and are genuinely concerned about their happiness.

B. You actually want to see what your friend will say if approached with this type of a situation.

and, if the answer happens to be A and they go out and hit it off, will you:

A. Rejoice in the fact that you played a successful game of matchmaker.

B. Be pissed off because it didn't work the way you wanted it to.

or, if the answer is B......

.....to hell with it.

I think I fucked up.

Christmas Lost almost

A small sampling of how my life works.

This weekend, I was looking forward to doing the yearly do - putting up the Christmas tree and dressing it all up. However, I've recently moved to a much smaller place and haven't figured out a way to store all the crap I've acquired in years past, so I'd just left the non-necessities in the storage building behind the old house. So, over I go with ex-hubby in tow to bring out the tree and such, but to my surprise, there was no tree to be found. No decorations. No nothing. The storage building was empty of all things glittery. Of course, as most sappy traditional people do, I got misty. My mind leapt to all the little cheesy decorations my son has made me over the years, the ornaments my grandmother gave me, all the worthless-to-everyone-but-me-crap I've collected over the years and I was left empty. Much like my storage building.

"Oh My God! Someone stole all my Christmas shit! Sorry no-sentiment-having-bastards!"

Of course, I'm on a limited budget, and I can't afford to just run down and buy 20 gazillion dollars worth of Christmas decorations, because you know, that's what my tree and ornaments were worth. Nevertheless, I was empty I tell you, so of course I just had to run to Wal-mart and buy something. A Santa candle-lamp and some bells for my door to be exact, and I would just have to stick the lamp on a table and put any presents under the table and be happy with that as a sad little excuse for a tree this year.

In the mean time, ex-hubby decided it was a malicious attempt at Scrooginy and called the police to report my life-challenged spruce and baubles missing.

NO, really - I'm quite serious. He filed a stolen property report. On a Christmas tree and ornaments.

I know.

Anyway, next door to our old house is a house which is vacant, a family member's, and therefore perfect for storage. Even after asking ex-hubby if he'd checked the house to make sure the tree wasn't there, he still felt he was right in calling the police. "I know I didn't put it there."

Until the cop left and he thought it was worth a look.

You see where this is going, don't you?

To answer your question, no, he did not call and report that he'd found it. I mean, that would make him look like an idiot to the police, right?

Right.

Happy Thanksgiving! a day late

Here I sit, newly single (yes, 2 days and counting now) and therefore with no life and no fun in the foreseeable future, so what do I do?

Well, I work.

And I read blogs.

God knows I've certainly been shirking my blog-reading lately. I have missed entirely too much of the goings on of my favorite bloggers such as her and him not to mention countless others.

This morning, I caught up on a little reading, and laughed myself nearly into unconsciousness. I mean c'mon.....you just know it's going to be so far past hilarity that it's hard to come up with a name for the amount-of-funny when you see a post named "booger brigade" - right? CW, I wish you all the luck in the world with the newly dismissed long-lost love of your life, Carb O'Hydrate.
She has always been a trifling bitch to me too.
[Confidential to CW, I forgive you for not being thankful for me in your thankspimping post, only because #1, I have gone and let my old site go, and #2, I never really posted anything worth a shit anyway. Really, it's ok.]

And, synonymous with all this hilarity came a whirlwind of calm, shame, and jealousy but in a good way, for that is the only way I can think of to describe how I feel after reading about the vacation that Julia has just returned from.

In totally unrelated but definitely mention-worthy news, I must say especially considering my newly single status, I'm a bit miffed that I can't ever get this lucky.

What the hell am I doing?
I'm wondering - is it just me, or is it every woman who has ever filed for divorce that begins asking herself "What the hell am I doing?!?" just a few days before the final court date?

And in totally unrelated news, my favorite blogger (you may remember on my other-blog-which-is-no-more that I had a strange stalking affection to her) has decided to throw caution to the wind and jet off to freakin' London!

I'm so jealous.

Oh, how I don't want to go to work today.
By the way, did I tell you I got a new haircut yesterday? I am so butch now.
(unintentionally.)

100 things list, updated.
I was born in South Carolina.
I moved when I was 5 and have never been back.
I've been married 4 times.
My 3rd and 4th husbands are one-in-the-same.
I'm 32 33.
I'd sleep with Tony Soprano...
...in a HEARTBEAT.
I use expletives. Frequently.
I've been pregnant twice.
I have one child.
It's a boy!
I have a paralyzing fear of death.
I love Mexican food.
I rarely eat it.
I eat out at least 4 x's a week.
My sink is full of dirty dishes.
My kitchen pantry is full.
There's nothing to eat in my house.
I'm a Licensed Nurse and hold a certificate in Medical Transcription.
I can't find a job. Have a nursing job as of 2/2003.
I'm told I should get a computer-related degree.
My dad is dead.
I can't talk about him without tearing up.
He was a computer guru.
I have a babydoll.
I'm female and don't like to shoe-shop.
I regard Nick-at-Nite and TVLand as high-quality entertainment.
I starred in my own porn flick.
I was not a virgin when I married *SHOCK!*
I talk too much.
Winter is my favorite season.
I don't like sports. I like football, a little. GO HOGS!
I am cynical.
I got it honestly.
I don't know the names of my local elected officials.
I don't care, either.
I've lived in Arkansas, Texas, Idaho, Washington, and South Carolina.
I've never seen an ocean.
I don't know how to ski - on water or snow.
I have a dog.
Snakes, spiders, and roaches gross me out.
My uncle sounds disturbingly like my dad.
I can't talk to him on the phone.
I use both DVD player and VCR, but can't manage to record from dvd to VHS.
I drive a truck.
I hate my ankles.
I know how to sew.
I own a sex toy.
I don't like sex...much. I like it, I just don't remember it anymore.
I am not a good housekeeper.
I don't like tea or water.
Chicken is my favorite meat.
I own a gun. Gave it to my nephew.
I'm thankful for my right to do so.
I once found a flyer for the KKK in my driveway.
I despise the Ku Klux Klan.
I have been unemployed for over a year.
I don't like the idea of same-sex marriage.
I believe in God.
I find the Bible to be contradictory.
I believe every word of it.
I'm not a member of the NRA.
I'm overweight.
I kill plants.
Not intentionally.
I have smoked marijuana.
I've never snorted or shot anything up.
I hate to cook.
Mario Bros. is my favorite Nintendo game.
My favorite arcade game was Galaga.
I received my first kiss hidden between Ms. PacMan and Dig-Dug.
I adore my grandparents.
I truly don't know if intercourse took place during my first sexual encounter.
I still regard it as losing my virginity.
I can't ride a moped.
I like having my feet rubbed.
"Shit" is my favorite word.
I like the smell of gasoline.
I think I have ugly feet.
My 2nd, 3rd, and 4th husbands share the same first name.
I bite my fingernails.
I pray.
I have my eyebrows waxed.
I rarely wear makeup.
Sweats are my favorite attire.
I wear a bracelet I have only removed once twice - for surgery and to have the clasp replaced.
I don't wear a wedding ring.
I am southern by birth and by choice.
I have been involved in a romantic internet relationship.
I regard them as something to avoid.
I believe I have a purpose in life.
I don't know what it is yet.
I don't advise pregnancy after the age of 30.
I have never owned an Atari.
I don't make New Years' Resolutions.
I cry often.
I believe that PMS is a valid condition.
I have been called overbearing.
I don't hate anyone.
I failed French and Geometry in high school.

Horrible day at work yesterday, state inspectors there for 2nd day in a row, and left immediately after talking to me.
That's never a good sign.
On a lighter note, I got an amusing email from my mother of all folks, paraphrased below:
Here are five secrets, taken from ancient aboriginal knowledge, that every woman needs to know to be happy:
1- It is important to have a man who helps you around the house, and has a job.
2- It is important to have a man who makes you laugh.
3- It is important to have a man you can count on and doesn't lie to you.
4- It is important to have a man who is good in bed and enjoys making love to you.
5- It is important that these four men don't know each other.
Funny how that rings true nowadays.

Another day, another blog. Ever wonder what your purpose in life is? For me, it's a daily grind of doing other necessary things - work, house, kid, etc. - while I'm trying to figure out my purpose. Lately, I'm asking myself "Is it to be here as a doormat for men as they stumble in and out of my life?" Yes, I know. That sounds pretty 'feel-sorry-for-me' doesn't it? I don't mean it that way, but I do wonder if that's what it's all about.

Sigh.