Granny Vans

I have noticed a disturbing trend lately. There seems to be a growing number of senior citizens driving mini vans. Why? I need to know!
What are these people doing that they need a vehicle that can carry seven people at a time? Are they planning a group attack somewhere? Are they driving around breaking their friends out of their houses late at night to drive around and vandalize playgrounds? What is the plan?!?!
Why the vans? Usually there is only one person in the van, sometimes two. Today I saw three men in one. Ok... I KNOW they are NOT going to Walmart to do their shopping. Tag team grocery shopping? I think not.
I think that since most minivans have the cute little sticker family on the rear window, the seniors should have to do this as well. Them, their four kids, fifteen grandchildren, five great children and various cats, dogs and other pets as well. So by now there is no clear space in the window making the rear view mirror completely useless. Although in their defence, I'm not sure most them are used anyway.

Nine time out of ten if I am cut of in traffic or behind some jackass going 20km/hr, it's a senior.  You can gripe about the teen drivers all you want.  The seniors are worse.  

Now, one of my best friends would be saying, " awww, be nice. What if it was you dad driving in front of you?"   My response?  

"I'd jump out of my car, walk along side his slow moving vehicle, reach in and grab license from his wallet."

Seriously?!?  If you can't follow the rules, don't play the game.  That is why the granny van syndrome is somewhat concerning.  I have a feeling they have heard my road rage through my blaring music and are planning an attack.  

So if I go missing, check the granny vans.  They will likely have me tied up and sedated with Ambien in the back seat.  

Daily Positive Affirmations (and the negative impact they have on my life)

It has recently been brought to my attention, that Sarcazma has been slacking lately. So thank you for the push... I needed it! It was also a very brave thing to do since we all know I can sometimes walk on the scary side of "crazy-bitch land".

After I finished college, I moved back home for what was supposed to be two months. I actually moved out two YEARS later, which is a painful story for another time. I am far too sober to relive the joy of living with my parents as an adult at this moment.
Anyway, I moved back home while I finished my practicum. At this time, my dad was knee deep in a new thing that he was introduced to at work. His head office down east, decided it would be a good idea that the staff listened to positive affirmations in the morning as they got ready for work.
You know where I'm going with this.

This was before the glorious invention of earbuds. So I was exposed to this over the top happy bullshit every damn morning!!! Now, believe it or not, I am NOT much of a morning person. Don't get me wrong, mornings are beautiful.
Sun coming up, sky getting lighter, birds singing and all that shit.
It's just that I think it all happens far to early in the day. I myself prefer sunset. It's the same thing as sunrise, just in reverse.
Sun going down, sky getting dark, birds shutting the hell up... It's glorious.
So as I get ready for my practicum ( which is a fancy way of saying " doing the worst part of the job for no money"), I am forced to listen to what I referred to as someone who has taken way too many uppers and consumed a toxic amount of sugar, blow sunshine up my ass.
I was 20 years old at the time, and lets face it, in a perpetual hangover. So listening to this dude EVERY morning did not make me feel positive. It did the opposite.

Look in the mirror and say 3 positive things I'm going to do today?? Here they are smart ass...

1. I will make a snarky comment to the ass hat taking 20 minutes to fill his car with gas and wash his already clean windshield. I will then also, as a bonus, make fun of the fact that he referred to his car as a "Lincoln". I know it's a Lincoln... I also know you are bald. Don't care. It's a car idiot. It doesn't require a name. Move along...

2. I will find the dark side to a dark situation. I will not make lemonade out of lemons. Lemonade gives me cankers. Unless we are adding vodka to the lemonade, shut up. I will not make a bad thing good by thinking positive. Sometimes bad stuff happens. Deal with it.

3. When someone says, " have a nice day!" I will be forced to respond with my usual, " Don't tell me what kind of day to have. Man, you are bossy."

I do realize I respond like a spoiled three year old. I'm not sure why, but I feel compelled to do the exact opposite of what I am told. Especially by some moron on a cassette tape yowling at me from across the hall at 7:00 am. I'm fairly certain other people feel,this way too. Perhaps there is an untapped market for Demotivational Speakers. I can make my own little series for people to listen to in the morning.

TAPE ONE - Yes, You Cut Your Ankle Shaving This Morning And You Are On Day 2 Of Your Period, But You Will Also Get Caught In Traffic This Morning. Enjoy .
TAPE TWO - Today Is Going To Suck, I'm Not Gonna Lie To You.

Etc, etc, etc...
Anyway, that is my thought for this morning, not so much sarcasm as it is pessimism. But whatever.
Have a nice day!

The Wonders of Modern Medicine

We have cameras that can see to the bottom of the ocean.
We can see the tiniest of microbes.
We can see blood vessels and nerves so clearly that a surgeon can reattach them.
We have a camera that can take pictures on Mars. MARS!!! The planet... Not the chocolate bar.

You know what we don't have? The ability to see two inches into my body just under my belly button to see my freakin' girlie parts. Where exactly is my uterus that it is so hard to find? Is there a lead curtain in front of it? Is there an army protecting it? What is this mystical method of protection that renders modern medicine useless?!?

It is apparently my bladder.
Seriously? Bladder?
With the wonders of modern technology, the only was to get a decent picture of this elusive organ, is to fill my bladder up to a point where I want to weep. Why does it need to be so full that I would actually rather just pee myself in the waiting room without giving it a second thought than try and last another minute in this agony?!?

I'm going to just mention quickly that having a uterus and not planning on using it for reproduction, is like owning an apartment and never renting it. Just have it there... Doing nothing but causing grief. Vandals break in and trash the place. It costs you money and and maintenance and then bleeds you dry. (Pun intended)

Seriously, they need to remove this thing along with the birth of you last child.

Anyway, just when you think you can a actually hear you bladder ripping at the seams, they call you in. Yay! You get to lay down which somehow makes it easier... But not for long.
Now you get to endure at least ten minutes of someone pushing what looks like a whacked out hot wheels car over your body. Not your entire body... Just on top of your stretched out bladder. Because this seems like a good idea.
Fill it up, and then poke it for awhile. Awesome.
I've actually had the tech tell me my bladder was too full and I could go and pee "a little". Now you would think I'd be happy, but no. I'm kind of a believer in the whole 'All or Nothing' school of thought. Seriously? A little? Whatever....
So it is finally over and they tech says I can leave and go.... ( not sure what the end of that sentence is because by then I have usually knocked them over into a garbage can on my way to the nearest bathroom.)

It is over; I have survived. Then I hear, "have you ever had an internal ultrasound?"
My blood goes cold and I fall to floor weeping. If you've had one done, you know where I'm going with this. If you haven't, I'll save that little surprise for you to find out on your own.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go pee for the eightieth time today.

Hacked Again!!!!!

Seriously?!?! This is the last time I will be changing my email address and using Yahoo. If I get hacked again, I will be taking my email business elsewhere! What is so attractive about my email? It is just the usual generic crap. No government secrets or photos of crashed UFO's.
Just boring sales from Pottery Barn, eBay updates, blah blah blah...
So as I frantically try and change everything over before deleting the compromised account, emails are flying out at lightning speed! I especially love the weight loss ads being sent to my seriously skinny 16 year old and the hair loss and male enhancement ads being sent to my kids school trustee. Awesome!!
By the time I manage to create a new address and change everything over, the hacker has managed to send crap to everyone in my contacts. Who has time for this? Is someone out there seriously spending time trying to get into my email so they can spam my friends? Omg! That is so sad! I'm not that interesting! Trust me.

So in the mean time, if you get a message from me offering time share deals, weight loss plans, or 5 easy tips for a better sex life.... Just delete.
Please.

Day Make up vs Evening Make up (learn the difference)

I love the new smokey look eyeshadow that you see on tv and make up ads. The problem is that it is not only difficult to replicate, (without looking like you're Chris Brown's latest victim), it's also not an appropriate look for 98% of the time. A wedding, or any formal event this would look great. Going to get groceries, not so much. Since the look is usually paired with false eyelashes you end up looking like a raccoon whore with bamboo shoots growing up of your eyelids. That is why is is a NIGHT time look only. Lets face it, harsh sunlight is not our friend.
Except for Charlize Theron and Cindy Crawford... And they can both just bite me.
Everyone should have a friend that can tell them, "ease up on the face paint Missy. You look like Ronald McDonald." If not, you will be mocked. Maybe not directly to your crayola coloured face, but it will happen.
The only possible exceptions to the "No False Eyelashes and Heavy Shadow" rule are girls participating in a dance competition within the next two hours or drag queens.
The dancers still look ridiculous, but at least they have a reason.
The drag queens however, just look fabuloussssss!!!
And just in case you think you are fooling people with the falsies (lashes and otherwise) and try to get away with claiming its all natural.... You're not. So as Bob Newhart would say,

STOP IT !!!

(Just for giggles, search 'Bob Newhart Stop It' in YouTube)

Valentines Day. Why I love/hate it

Valentines Day is just around the corner. Ugh.  Every single woman gets her red satin heart patterned panties in a bunch over this day every year.   They all say its stupid and who needs it!!!  And then secretly weep while they consume an entire heart shaped box of chocolates.  Okay not EVERY woman...but quite a few.
I love that for one day a year, we are required to proclaim our love for our partners.  Only one day.

No more, no less.
Sad.

As if the concept of this day isn't weird enough, the fact that we are soooooo damn busy in our world today, we can't even call it valentines day. Now it's more often than not, referred to as V Day.  Am I the only one that finds this disturbing and perhaps somewhat vulgar?  Maybe because it sounds to close to VD.  Which for everyone over the age of 20 is what STDs were called a million years ago.   Even if it doesn't bring to mind mental images of oozing sores on someone's junk, it also sounds like an abbreviated way to say Vagina Day.  I'm going avoid the obvious connection to valentines day and connect it to another type of v day. 

 Pap day.  

Either way, not very romantic.  Even if my ob/gyn shows up with flowers and chocolate will that day ever be worth celebrating.  
At any rate, I say celebrate love every day. Especially when your partner least expects it!  Don't become a Hallmark zombie and show up once a year with a card and over priced roses!   It means more when it isn't prompted by endless TV commercials.

That being said, if my husband doesn't produce something with a serious carat weight, I will be seriously upset. 

My Wedding Vows aka "No Yardwork"

Whenever a female friend of mine complains about having to do any type of yard work, be it mowing grass, planting, pulling weeds or shoveling snow, I invite them to have a quick peek at my world.  My usually response is,

"I don't do yard work.  If it happens outside; it's not my problem.  I had it put in my wedding vows."

Now obviously I didn't LITERALLY do this, although seeing the expression on the eighty year old priest that married us would have been a tiny little hoot! 

And before you get your undies in a knot, it has nothing to do with sexual sterotypes.  I just do not enjoy the outside stuff.  Let's face it, that's where the bugs are.

You see where I'm going with this.  I have never mowed a lawn in my life.  I grew up with an older brother and was therefore never required to attempt this chore.  Luckily we also had a gas run John Deere monstrosity of a mower that weighed a thousand pounds, so the likelihood of me being able to actually maneuver it was slim.  Call me spoiled if you wish, I do not care!  I'm also one of the few people on the planet who can not stand the smell of freshly cut grass.  To be perfectly honest, I would rather smell a skunk.  I'm serious!  So unless the grass has started to grow inside the house, it is none of my concern.  And frankly, if it IS growing in the house, and it's bugging you that much, feel free to fix the problem.  The same rules apply to snow.  While I have had some experience shovelling, I feel this task is best left to those more experience and trained for such tasks.  Like my teenage son for example.  Once in a blue moon, if it isn't too cold out, I will attempt to help out with the snow removal.  But in all honesty, my heart isn't in it.  What can I do?  I have given the job to my husband (who in turn has dragged a grumpy teenager into it) and if I change the rules now it would cause chaos in an otherwise fairly calm household.

 Who am I to rock the boat?  Stir the pot?  Make waves?

So this has been the rule in our house for the better part of 20 years.  I handle the insides, he handles the outsides. 

 Oh, unless the fridge needs to be cleaned out.  No way in hell I'm doing that!