Balls, Testicles and Tests....Oh my!

It looks like my schedule is Monday's and Friday's for the next 3 weeks so far. Well, let's just say that's my schedule until I find the possibility to be more available.

So with Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday off, you'd think my ass would be reintroduced to it's long lost friend....the couch. Not so. Well, not so for this week at least. My parents moved out of their 5 bedroom house into a 2 bedroom apartment. (Don't worry, it's a good thing. Selling the house was a huge burden lifted from my almost-retired parents.) My parents are over 60 though and cleaning their house was yet another burden I decided to try and unburden them from doing. I'm not in any better shape but at least I have age and time on my side.

I had to go to the doctor yesterday for some personal issues and it was one of those appointments where my husband felt compelled to accompany me. (Don't worry, that was a good thing too. I knew immediately upon waking up that morning that I wasn't going to be able to do it alone.)

Note: Even though most times where my husband attends things he isn't supposed to I wanna strangle him, he actually made this grueling and terrifying experience tolerable. I reserve the right to bitch and moan about him later though.


It was a longer day than expected which meant wringing my hands, sweating and feeling like I was going to hyperventilate. When I finally had to go in for the "procedure" of sorts, I had managed to hype myself up into a twitchy mess of heaving breaths and almost hysterical crying. Here is why my husband was welcome.

Husband: Would it make you feel better if you could kick me in the balls while they do it?

Me: Um...maybe?

Husband: (looking at my doctor) Is that possible? Can I go in there with her?

Doctor: No. I'm sorry. She's gotta be brave like she's always been.

Me: I'm not much of a tough cookie today Doc. I'm more of an uncooked cookie.

Doctor: Oh come on! This is coming from the girl who decided epidurals were for wimps.

Me: I only said that because it wore off before it should've and I didn't want him to do it again. Purely wimpy statement on my behalf.

Doctor: Nope, you'll always be my toughest patient.

Husband: Sorry babe, I tried.

Me: Can I just kick you in the balls now then?

Doctor: You two are funny. Toughest AND favorite patient.

Husband: (looking at the doctor) If we're that, can she kick YOU in the balls then?

Doctor: Um....no.

Me: Well jeez Doc, what do I need to be in order to do THAT then?

Doctor: My wife.

Me: ::giggle:: Okay, I'm ready. Take me to your leader. (looking at my husband) You better cover your balls babe....I know where you sleep.

And that is why he was welcome. He managed to take my mind off of everything and focus on the prospect of kneeing testicles instead.

Note: I paid him back for his attention by NOT kneeing him in the balls. I am a good wife next to my good husband. At least that is what I told myself last night after I medicated and drifted off into a drug-induced coma.

Happy Hump Day people! Make it a good one cause it'll be over before you know it!

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


My Want List.

Wants and needs. Two very different words and even more difficult to decipher which is more important. It was a question my mom used to ask throughout my life.

"Do you need a beer or do you just want a beer?"

Nine times out of ten, I both wanted and needed the beer. When it comes to material things though, wants and needs get easier to identify. The importance of those two words can either put you in the poor house or in rehab. As an adult, we have the capacity to pick and choose what we get ourselves. As children, we didn't have the ability to say no. All we cared about as kids was we wanted it and we wanted it now. Need? Okay, we needed it too.

My carpool brigade are three tweens. My daughter, M, a responsible child that expects to get paid an allowance for being capable of owning a house key and opening the door. The neighbor girl, M2, a smart and church-going girl that always has something inspirational to say. She's pretty dang smart too. The neighbor boy, E, a smart ass, church-going boy who thinks my tube tops are the coolest comeback. The difference of their want lists are typical of who they are.

My daughter, M.

1) Money.
2) Money.
3) An iPhone.

The neighbor girl, M2.

1) World Peace.
2) Straight A's.
3) World Peace.

The neighbor boy, E.

1) An iPhone.
2) A laptop.
3) A sickle and a machete.
4) An iPod Touch.
5) An E-reader.

My adult words of reality to the three tweens?

To my daughter, M. Sweetie, you're gonna have to do a lot more than turn a key and open a door to get an allowance. Going from school to home on your own is no reason to get paid. God gave you legs. They're for walking, running and crawling if you have to. Congratulations! You've. Got. Legs. Oh, and you've got an iPod Touch...what the hell do you need an iPhone for?

To the neighbor girl, M2. Sweetie, you are smart so straight A's are possible. Don't put too much pressure on yourself though. There ain't nothing wrong with a B. Oh, and world peace? Never gonna happen! Sorry about that.

To the neighbor boy, E. Sweetie, you need to lower your standards. Making 20 cents an hour isn't gonna get you any of those things on your list. Get yourself a library card and I promise for the next 7 months I will be sporting a tube top....just for you!

My want list?

1) Health.
2) Happiness.
3) Piece of Mind.

I smoke so therefore, I am NOT healthy but that's my own fault.

I'm always smiling so happiness for me is making sure my smile is contagious. If you don't feel like smiling, that's your own fault. Ain't my problem.

I live and lie in my own bed. Anything I've ever done that could be perceived as a mistake or a regret is what got me here today. I'm perfectly fine with that. No regrets.

And finally, putting the word "need" in front of those "wants" changes them. I need health. I need happiness. I need piece of mind.

1) Must. Quit. Smoking.
2) Say goodbye to toxic people that think the world revolves around them, therefore infecting me with negativity.
3) Never make a mistake twice...cause that's just stoooopid.

Happy Tuesday people! It's just like Monday except Tuesday called in sick and Monday pulled a double!

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


This is why Monday's suck. (In my opinion)

As with any job, Monday shows up and everybody cringes. It's like a do-over. Except not the good kind of do-over where you can win instead of lose. It's the do-over where you won and really don't want to give anybody a second chance to make you lose. Those types of do-overs SUCK.

From what I remember, as this is my first Monday back at the job, Monday's for a pharmacy mean, you've got the weekend customers of idiots that didn't understand that doctor's rarely work on the weekend. You've got the basket of crap that couldn't be done over the weekend. You've got the customers that went to the doctor, received a prescription to get out of work on Monday. All in all, Monday's really suck.

I have always been a Monday technician. I don't think I ever missed a Monday when I worked because if you ever did, you would be hated for like ever. You just can't miss a Monday. I think it's against the law. Monday is the day that dictates if the rest of the week goes smoothly. Of course smoothly until Friday when all those pre-weekend idiots return to the pharmacy to get everything done before the weekend. Yah, pretty much the worst days to work are Monday's and Friday's.

I work Monday's and Friday's. Yay me!

But that's okay. I'd rather be in the muck of things than be in the way. Besides, the day flies by when you're running around like an idiot, dealing with people that think the world revolves around them and give yourself twenty minute time limits on a buttload of prescriptions that should normally take an hour. It was one of those rough weekends where everything that could've gone wrong, did go wrong. I'm actually happy it's over and I have another weekend to look forward to....in five freaking days.

Have a great Monday people. It'll be over before you know it!

P.S. He will never read this but my husband kicked butt this weekend with the "everything went wrong" events. Thanks for helping me out with them and I'm sorry I called you a dumbass more than normal. You're my dumbass though. :)

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


The Problem with Being New.

I had a great day at work yesterday. The consensus of the technician, the pharmacist and the relief pharmacist is I am kicking ass for only starting last Monday. Go me! And I kind of knew that I was getting it. It couldn't just be me seeing this. It was nice of them to confirm my belief. I had insurance problems, refill denials, electronic prescriptions and not one idiot customer made me want to jump the counter and throttle them. All in all, it was a stellar day.

The problem with being new though is everything turns into a training session. A mistake or a question is automatically turned into a long, drawn out explanation. I get it, you've got to know how to do it the right way before you can actually qualify it as a mistake. If you don't know how to do it right, how can you make sure you don't do it wrong? I get that. Really, I do. It's just usually if I have a question, all I really want at that second is an answer.

Just tell me the time, don't tell me how to make the clock.

My boss is a very nice guy. He's not very intimidating like most bosses are. He's actually quite likeable. Score another perk for Jeanie! There is just one thing. He's like Dennis Hopper on SPEED when he told Keanu Reeves, "Pop quiz asshole!" He's constantly turning any type of information into a test of sorts. My problem with this is I don't get when he's testing me. Here's a typical conversation.

Him: Do you know about the Return Authorization and Credit Return forms?

Me: Yah.

Him: We have a filing system for them that is very simple. The forms are very important because.....

(This is how he does it. He'll just let the sentence hang prompting me to do this.)

Me: Oh! Um....er....because you need to know if you're going to get your money back.

Him: Right. And why is that important?

Me: Um...cause you wanna get paid? (Seriously, this is the correct answer.)

But that's how he trains. A quick two minute explanation turns into a ten minute pop quiz. Here's another one.

Him: Have they told you about the workflow and the stations of the pharmacy?

Me: Um....no. (I'm starting to realize that I say "Um" too much. Stop that Jeanie.)

Him: Oh, well lemme show you. What sports did you play in high school?

Me: Um...I didn't play sports. (I was tempted to finish this with, "I was too busy getting high under the bleachers." But I didn't.)

Him: No really, what did you play in high school?

Me: Seriously, I don't play sports.

Him: Okay, what's your favorite sport?

Me: Football.

Him: Can you win the game with just a quarterback?

Me: Well, no you can't (insert name here).

Him: Why not?

Me: Because the quarterback wouldn't have anybody to throw the ball to (insert name here).

Him: Why else?

Me: Because he wouldn't have anybody to protect him. It would be sack central. ::Cough::Ben Roethlesberger::Cough::

Him: Exactly. The head tech is the quarterback and all the other people are his/her receivers and blockers.

Me: Got it.

And that was yet another fifteen minute explanation on how if there are two techs, one of them is the typer and the other is his/her back up.

Seriously, throw in some pizza rolls and press the buttons. I don't need to know how the microwave heats food from the inside out.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Goth Princess

It said brown and came out black.

What am I talking about? My hair. I only work four hours today but it's just enough time for people to notice and wonder what was I thinking? My only defense is Goth Princesses don't wear red and khaki.

The good news is my gray is completely gone and my striking black hair pulls anybodies attention away from the zit on my cheek. That's another thing! What the hell is up with adult acne? When I was in high school, I never got a zit or pimple. You can hate me but you can also laugh at me because now I'm getting them. But seriously, what the hell?

I'm a pretty hot 35 year old. I'm probably at my best these days and karma has bitten me on the cheeks and chin. Thanks karma, 'preciate it! Not only have you given me a child that is my exact replica in all aspects of life, you've turned me into a 35 year old pimple popping geek.


I'm a busy girl tonight. I have to do the soccer mom thing and help my mom pack some more boxes. K was invited by the high school girl's soccer team to be the ballgirl for their 3rd round championship game. So excited! K is my soccer star. My little mini-me has gotten her daddy's athletic abilities too. I can't claim that. My only athleticism was tee-ball where I actually struck out, (true story) and 8th grade basketball where our only win was a forfeit. I was more of a watcher. Either that or I just wanted to smoke a joint under the bleachers. Shoot me, I was a teenager.

So on this Thursday, let's figure out how to make it through the day and finally get to Friday. My Friday will be my first lone technician duty. Just me and a pharmacist. Eeeeeek! On second thought, let's try to slow this day down so Friday will never get here. Have a great day!

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Wednesday/Hump Day/Bitch about your husband day

I know my title isn't very original but hey, I'm tired. When I stayed at home all day, everyday, I loved Hump Day. It was the middle of the week. Yep, that was how boring it was when the weekend didn't really mean much to me.

So I worked Monday and Tuesday this week. I typed my fingers raw and stood on my feet all day. BTW, still haven't gotten a good pair of shoes but I'll refrain from bitching about how sore my feet are. My kids are doing very good with the ten minutes of alone time it takes me to get from the store to the house. Megan has only lost her key once....granted, she only had it two days but baby steps. It's hard being a responsible kid when you're only twelve. She's the most responsible of the two girls I own so I'm pretty lucky.

I've managed to glide into this working mother routine with the grace of a ballerina. If a ballerina wore red shirts and khakis....I'd perform The Nutcracker for you, I would. I've always had a hot meal on the table. I've gone to my husband's soccer games and cheered my fine ass off. I've even helped my kids with their homework. I've actually done more as a working mother than I've ever done as a stay at home mom. Go me! Of course, I completely get that I'm not the minority here. Mom's have been doing this for years. My two week accomplishment is crackers compared to them. But hey, this is me, let me pat myself on the back.

With working though, it has its drawbacks. My husband has found a new button to push. I've mentioned the "buttons" before. Call me a bad mother, a bad wife or anything that I've always tried to be good at....and I fall to pieces. My husband rarely does this but if he's backed into a corner....he says it. It's like the lame comeback, "Oh yeah? Well...um....YOUR MOMMA!" Yeah, that's my husband.

So, what's the new button?

Well, I had a great day yesterday. Only made a few mistakes and even smiled through an episode with a customer that I'm convinced was an idiot. When my husband and I got home almost at the same time, it was obvious from the get go that we weren't going to be able to have a civilized conversation. I had Chicken n' Dumplings in the crock pot. My husband was eating burritos.

Me: What are you eating now?

Him: Another burrito. Why?

Me: Well, let's see. I've got dinner already planned and you're eating your weight in burritos. Why do you think?

Him: ::Slam slam:: Fine. What are you? My mother?

Me: Thank god I'm not your mother because I would've kicked your scrawny ass by now. I don't give a crap what you do. I'll just make sure not to put myself out by getting a hot meal on the table for ya anymore if you'd rather stuff your fat ass with microwave burritos.

Him: You know what? Maybe this working thing isn't working out for ya. If you're going to come home and be a bitch (This was an allowed "bitch" calling.) maybe you shouldn't be working.

Me: You know what? This had nothing to do with work. This is about you being an asshole. Maybe this being married to you isn't working out for me....what should I do about that? (Yah, I went there but he pressed a button. And if he presses the button then I have every right to press my own button.)
So there you have it. That was the button.

1) I'm a bad mother.
2) I'm a bad wife.
3) I'm a bad human being.
4) I'm not cut out for this "working" thing because it's impacting the family.

After I left the premises and cooled off. I went back into the living room and said this.

Me: If you ever say that again about me working and needing to quit because I'm obviously not cut out for it, I'll never forgive you. It won't hurt me anymore. It will just make me mad. I will hate you forever.

Him: Agreed. But I find it hard to believe this started because of a microwave burrito. I think we just had equally hard days and needed to take a breath.

Me: No, this started because I rushed home from a really good day at work, had a really good meal planned and you decided you wanted to stuff your face with crap instead of wait just a little bit for a good meal. But don't worry, I forgive you and I didn't need to take a breath. Can we watch LOST now?

Problem solved....I think.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Tuesday Carpool

Yesterday was great! Finally getting it. It's slow going but slow and steady...wins the race? Great, I'm a turtle.

Today was Tuesday Carpool. We were all a little tired this morning. Carpool days are going to be a little tight as I'm going to have to be dressed and ready before I start chauffeuring these kids around. Last week was Spring Break. Seems like everybody enjoyed a relaxing week with entirely too much time on their hands with nowhere to go. Thanks a lot Bin Laden! :)

Me: What did everybody do over Spring Break?

M2: We had a staycation. We technically had a vacation when we went on our cruise so we did absolutely nothing.

Me: Well, that's okay. We didn't do anything special either except watch a couple movies at the theatre.

E: I hung out with you guys all week...remember?

Me: Yes E, I found it hard to believe that even a Spring Break can't get rid of ya.

E: I watched some movies too. My mom got Netflix and made us watch a bunch of movies she used to watch as a kid.

Me: Like what? (I imagined like Sixteen Candles or Breakfast Club. E's mom and I are almost the same age.)

E: The Muppets. Clash of the Titans, the lame one.

Me: The lame one?? Oh E, that one ROCKED! They used ketchup for blood! The special effects were stellar considering how back in the day it was. And The Muppets were exactly what I used to watch on Sunday nights. I'm sure the Bishop would approve.

E: I wanna watch the new one.

Me: They've got a new Muppets movie?

E: Um....seriously, the Muppets are lame Miss Jean.

Me: You're lame!

E: Good comeback. The only good thing about the Muppets was seeing Miss Piggy in a tube top. Question?

Me: Don't even say it.

E: Miss Piggy was your favorite huh?

Me: Miss Piggy ROCKED!

E: Don't tell him I said this but Conrad will always be Kermit the Frog to me now.

Me: Ima tell him you said that.

E: It was nice knowing you guys.

But seriously, The Muppets kicked ass. So does my husband, so say goodbye to E!

Oh Kermie! :)

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


The Helpful Husband

This going back to work was also tough on my husband. First, because he'd supported me for over 4+ years and me going back to work might be perceived as him failing. Not so! The money would be nice but it's NOT because we need it. Second, he knows how stressed I was before when I quit. He was the one that handed me Kleenex when I sobbed that I hated my job.

So when I broached the subject of me going back to work, it came with some stipulations.

1) No crying.
2) It would be my money.

Deal, deal and deal.

So after last week with the low beginning and the high ending, he was really just trying to be helpful. And because of that, yah, he's pretty freaking cool....and funny too.

Me: When somebody comes up and asks where something is, I look like I'm going to vomit because I have no idea where anything is in the store.

Him: You know what you should do?

Me: Oh, tell me Obi Wan. What should I do?

Him: You should go in on one of these days you aren't working and study the store. Get to know it and when you come home, I'll test you.

Me: You'll test me? How in the hell are you going to test me?

Him: Like I'll say, "Can you tell me where the feminine napkins are?"

Me: Okay. First of all, they aren't called feminine napkins anymore. What are you? 70? Second of all, nobody is going to ask that.

Him: Somebody is gonna ask that and you are going to hunch over and piss yourself. Then you're gonna wish you knew where those feminine napkins were.

Me: Seriously, stop calling them that. ::crying:: You. Are. An. Idiot.

Him: Do you need a feminine napkin to blow your nose?

Me: Seriously, stop.

My husband. He's ruined the feminine napkin aisle for me FOREVER!

I work with the boss today. Last week I worked with the other pharmacist. The patient one. The boss is, I've heard, a little spazzy and a bit of a perfectionist. Eeeeeeeek! Wish me luck.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.

Works for Me!

Much better day yesterday. Did my day start and finish WITHOUT me making a complete idiot out of myself? Nope.

I started work at 9am. By 9:05am, I had managed to make a HUGE mistake of MASSIVE mistakes. I won't lie to you. It crossed my mind to run screaming from work, "I quit!" Did I? Nope.

You see, I discovered the best line. "I'm new." That line could possibly work for another week but yesterday, it worked out fine.

The rest of my day? It was great. There was a technician that did a great job showing me the humility of learning the rules and the flow. By god damn, he even made a few mistakes too so I felt so much better.

Today is a short day. Just a mere four hours. What can possibly go wrong today? Well, I'll tell ya. I need better shoes. My ass has been sitting on a couch for 4+ years and quite frankly, I think my ass is really missing my couch. The only time you can sit is when you're on lunch. So for six hours, I am standing up. Yah, I'm gonna need better shoes. Either that or convince my husband that I'm gonna need a hot tub/jacuzzi in the backyard.

Have y'all seen those new "Shape-up" shoes by Sketchers? I think they are quite possibly the ugliest shoes in the world. They look like prosthetics! And even more ridiculous. They're like $100! Well good god, I ain't gonna spend $100 on a pair of shoes that 1) make me look like I'm hiding a hoof or 2) will again, make me look stupid! But I need some better shoes. Badly.


Today is Friday. It will be the first time, in a long time, that the weekend will actually be a "weekend" to me. I miss that feeling. Friday's to me for the past 4+ years have just been another day. Today? Friday means I have the weekend to enjoy some beer and spend with my family. In that order too. I hope all of you enjoy your weekend, kick up your feet and enjoy a beer.

That's what I'm going to be doing.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Change of Plans

For a couple days now I've been reevaluating the decision to go back to work. No, I'm not going to quit. I've never been a quitter. My reevaluation is how I'm going to look at it.

1) I have no idea what I'm doing.
2) I'm not going to personify that I know what I'm doing.
3) I am an idiot.

If I take those three things into consideration, I think I may actually finally get this working thing again.

I have always done the opposite of these guidelines for every major change in my life and I think that's been my primary problem. Motherhood is a good example of this. I had no idea what I was doing when my first daughter was born. The day my mom left San Diego back to Texas, I think my daughter knew it too. The mayhem that ensued for four weeks after that abandonment was astronomical.

I finally learned the reason and possible offense of shaken baby syndrome during those four weeks. There were times where I wanted to throw my poor defenseless baby against the wall so I could take a 20 minute nap. I didn't but the idea struck me more than once.

When my second daughter was born, I expected the worse. I got the best. I think my second daughter sensed that I knew what I was doing and I was prepared for anything she threw at me. She didn't throw anything at me that I couldn't handle. Of course, I didn't know what I was doing. It had been four years since I cared for a newborn. I didn't fake it though. I went into it knowing I was an idiot and accepted that fact. I can say with absolute honesty, I never wanted to smother my second daughter with a pillow so I could take a nap on that pillow.

So today, when I walk into work, I am going to accept that I am an idiot. I know what needs to happen in order for me to NOT be an idiot. I plan on embracing my non-ability to soak in too much information. I also plan on voicing my confusion if it comes up. The consensus of everyone that knows me is, I am going to get this. Okay people, if you believe that I am going to get this, I guess I'll believe you and just suck it up. I'm going to embrace the suck.

Wish me luck! This idiot is going to need all the luck in the world. Happy Thursday!

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Bitter Beer Faces

First off, Happy St. Patrick's Day! My grandfather was all Irish so this is my holiday too. I'll be wearing my green and coloring my beer today.

I'm a horrible liar. Anybody with half a brain can tell when I'm lying. They can tell by my body language. They can tell by the sound of my voice. They can tell by the look on my face. My husband says that I raise my eyebrows, widen my eyes and my voice gets two octaves higher. It's highly annoying that he knows me so well. He mostly finds it funny unless I'm lying about something big. I haven't had to tell one of those big lies in awhile.

I've always been good at reading faces though. I have a friend that wears every emotion like a neon sign. I can tell her a story or explain something to her and I can tell the exact moment when I've lost her. Her eyes get all squinty and she purses her lips.

Now my husband is different. He always looks pissed off. Seriously, you can call his name to get his attention and when he turns around? Children would run from the look of death on his face. His brother and I once got a picture of it and giggled like lottery winners when we finally got photo evidence at what an a$$hole he is...or portrays himself to be.

Yesterday was a calm day. I was missing the older child to a sleepover and the younger child was outside most of the day with E. E is my older daughter's age. He's my carpool convo of comedic genius. I let her walk to Sonic with him and upon returning, I was given a lesson on facial expressions. My youngest will be known as K.

K: Hey mommy, look what I brought you! (She is holding an orange cream slush)

Me: Awesome! I'll come outside with you and drink it. Where's E?

E: Right here! (He sitting in my chair drinking his own orange cream slush)

Me: Your butt better vacate my chair before I sit on you.

E: Where am I going to sit? I just walked from here to Sonic and back again. What have you been doing?

Me: I've been busy being an adult. Move it or lose it buddy.

K: Let's have a picnic. (Without waiting for an answer, she runs inside and gets a blanket. As she reaches to close the door, she spills her milkshake all over the blanket.)

E: Greaaaaayyyyyt. I swear K, you are Murphy and the law is it will always happen to you. (He hands her his cream slush) You can have the rest of mine.

Me: Oh phew! Cause I wasn't gonna give her mine.

K: (kind of crying) Thanks. My mommy never shares.

E: I never knew that. (sarcasm) We can go get my tent and set it up.

At this point, they're leaving me. Also at this point, I'm so incredibly moved by the adorableness of these two that I've got this silly little grin on my face.

Me: Bye! You two lovebirds behave now!

Where as they both turned around, looking at me.

E with the quintessential "Bitter Beer" face and K with the quintessential "I'm gonna marry this guy one day" face.

I've obviously lost some ability at reading faces and I'm storing this little tale for later when E says something witty that I have no comeback to. ::evil grin::

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Humility blows!

The quality or condition of being humble; modest opinion or estimate of one's own importance, rank, etc.

Okay, this is going to be a very hard posting. For those of you who know me, you should probably mark this, remember it and never speak of it again. Here it goes!

I'm not as perfect as I think I am. {{GASP}}

The first day on the job was the typical day. Videos, computer training and reading manuals. The videos I can handle. The reading of manuals is easy. The computer training? Ugh! I'm going to need a bigger brain.

So, four hours of solitary training then two hours of standing over someones shoulder. Those two hours were as eye-opening as a finding out the difference from 6 inches and 9 inches. Wow!

I will say this though. People never change. There are still those freaks that walk up and make you go, "I hate people." Yay customer service!

After work, I had to rush home, change outta my HOT khakis and red and go watch a bunch of cops play indoor soccer. I've seen my husband play soccer before so no big deal. Out of the twelve players, my husband is one of the oldest. The other guys on the team are all rookies. Young and stupid. But very, very, very, VERY cute.

With age, comes humility as well. Just like me, relearning a job I've done for 18 years, my husband has finally realized that he's not as young as he looks. He played like a 17 year old, don't get me wrong. I was yelling and screaming at those grown men like I do at my girl's games. My husband's humility came at the end of the game. I've never been more prouder of him. Serious! This was a pivotal moment in his life.

It was COPS 9 and HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE PLAYING COPS 6. One minute left in the game. My husband was out. He was leaning against the wall watching the game with three other players. I looked down at my phone for a second and all hell broke loose. HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE PLAYING COPS pushed one of the COPS as he was setting up the ball. Mayhem! Punches, pushing, kicking, body slams, you name it, it was happening. Everybody was yelling from the bleachers. All the players whether they were on the "field" or in the box, rushed over and joined in on the brawl. I of course looked at my daughter and asked, "What happened?" I miss everything but I didn't feel too bad because she didn't know either.

My pivotal moment?

Where was my husband?

He was still standing against the wall! This man was always up for a good fight when we were young. He'd fight you if you looked at him wrong. There he was though, standing against the wall, shaking his head. I smiled at him when he looked up at me and rolled his eyes. When we got in the car, this was why humility blows.

Me: I was never prouder in there of you. What happened?

Him: Babe, every freaking game, they do that.

Me: Every game? What's that about?

Him: They're just stupid. Plus, we always seem to play a team that is just as stupid so it's perfect for em.

Me: Well, I was proud of ya. You didn't even flex a muscle or move an inch toward the fight.

Him: Shit babe! I'm fvcking tired! Let the youngsters make asses of themselves. I'm retired from that. They've still got young AND stupid on their side.

Me: Where as you got rid of young and kept stupid?

Him: After I take a nap, I'll have a better comeback to that.

Humility. It blows.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


I got me a jobbity job!

Today is my first day back in the working world. I haven't worked in over four years. How am I feeling about this?

1) A little nervous.
2) I'm pretty tired.
3) I'm very excited.

When I went to the mandatory orientation, I thought to myself, "I can't wait until this feeling isn't new anymore." I hate walking into a situation that is new. I can make friends with a tree. That isn't to say that most of my friends are like trees but seriously, you give me five minutes of your time, you and I are going to be friends. It's just too hard to hate me. Why try?

I've been known to most to be very funny. In fact, people look to me sometimes for that little sliver of funny to get them through their day. Do I mind? Nope! Happy to oblige. My one problem with this is, what if I can't deliver? My friend, who I used to work with before, is training me this week. In fact, I'm kind of taking over her job. It's her turn to stay home with the kids. Well, she's been telling stories. Stories about the "old" days. Stories about me. Stories that would make a person expect some pretty funny shit coming their way with me. I know y'all are thinking that I'm being ridiculous but here's what these people know about me from a text my friend sent me from work.

Her: Hey! What's a Fleshlight? My co-workers won't tell me.

Me: Um, it's a cylinder case with flesh-like stuff inside for a man to enjoy with insertion. (Yah, I totally answered right away. I. Am. Such. A. Freak.)

Her: Oh! Ewwwwwwwww!

Her: BTW, my co-workers are laughing at your description.

Me: That ain't all they're laughing at. The fact that you knew I would be the one to ask, I am somewhat proud.

Not to mention the couple thousand stories from our old job where I had a 6% customer service rating AND being referred to as the "Tube Top Queen." I think I'm potentially walking into a situation where they're going to be expecting a lot!

Also mentioning that I'll be wearing some kick-ass khakis and a smokin' hot red shirt. Man, I am a Target fantasy right now. My first paycheck? Ima buy me a coffee maker with my 10% discount. Don't be jealous. If you want, I'll make you a cup of coffee sometime.

And the even better news about this? I will never run out of things to say on this here blog. Trust me people....I'm going to be reintroduced to some pretty freaky people. Pharmacy is by far the best place to be. I know, my fellow pharmacy technicians are totally rolling their eyes right now. Come on guys, where else can you meet someone over the age of 70, buying condoms AND a 30 day supply of Viagra? Stay tuned and wish me luck.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Trust your gut....you're crazy!

Everybody has those gut instincts. You know the ones? Your friend says hi and you immediately know she was recently having sex. Your kid won't look you in the eye so you pretty much know he/she is probably lying to you. Your husband/wife laughs a little too hard at one of your jokes and you know he/she is in ass-kissing mode.

1) Your friend wanted you to know anyway!
2) Damn kids.
3) Hmmmm, ass-kissing mode isn't so easy.

I've been in ass-kissing mode plenty of times. I spent too much on a pair of pants. (Okay, it was a tube top) I forgot to pay a bill. I actually did drink an entire six-pack. But what in the hell is he kissing my ass for?

Yesterday started off like any other day. Kids got off to school okay. Husband got off to work okay. I proceeded to drink my weight in coffee. Typical day. My husband isn't much of a texter but from 9am he began to text me. Just little notes here and there.

1) How are you feeling? (Um, I'm okay.)
2) Kids get to school okay? (Um, don't they always?)
3) Today is dragging ass. (Sorry?)
4) I put in for Patrol in June. (It's about freaking time!)
5) It's supposed to rain. (Great, now he wants to be a weatherman.)

Now, typically, this isn't normal. I'm lucky if I get a, "Hi," or a, "On my way home," text. This is something of a strange phenomenon. And, because it started at 9am, I had all freaking day to wait to see what was going on.

This is where trusting your gut and admitting you're crazy comes to play. Oprah talks about it all the time. Your gut instincts are always right. Are they? That little twinge is your inner voice telling you to pay attention. Is it? Okay Oprah, I'll test this out. Because in all honesty, women are the smarter species here. Men are so oblivious to that fact. I can spot a scam from a mile away. I can see a guilt driven present with the color of the bow. Seriously, don't play a woman because we've seen it all before. We will smile, tilt our head and you won't see the knee coming up at lightning speed to the crotch.

Fast forward. Husband comes home. He offers to take one of the kids to their soccer practice. (Really? Well no shit! I can't be in two places at once. You better take one!) He says he'll go to the older daughter's open house with me. (Why? It's middle school. In and out. Don't bother.) Me and the oldest pick up dinner and return home with our bountiful Chinese platters and husband says, "You are probably the best wife. How'd you know I was craving Chinese food?"

Okay, this is getting ridiculous. What the hell did he do???

Put kids to bed and went on the couch. Husband had remote in hand and said, "What do you want to watch?" Here's my test. "Let's watch today's General Hospital." (Wait for it!)

"Okay." ::click:: Run the General Hospital credits!

Oh good god, I think my husband is having an affair! He must be completely guilt ridden to watch a soap opera. Granted, General Hospital is probably the BEST soap opera but seriously? How bad could this hot, sweaty, adulterous sex had been for him to be this guilt ridden?

Fast forward. I'm getting into bed and just waiting for the shoe to drop, the shit to hit the fan, ANYTHING! This was it. Oprah was right. My marriage could potentially be ending tonight. At least, that's what my gut was telling me. Husband walks in, spends a little too much time plugging in his phone and taking off his watch. He's stalling. I decide to end this. "What's up? You okay?"

His response? "Um, what's your schedule next week?" (He's already planning his next romp in the hay with that whore!)

My response? "Why?"

His end-all of ass-kissing and guilt? "I ordered a bow and it's supposed to be delivered next week. I don't want anybody to steal it."


The moral of this story? Never forget who you're married to. Your gut instincts are just little reminders of how crazy you are. If you suspect your spouse is cheating on you, check the bank statement for major purchases of stupidity.

If you can't find anything like that, smile, tilt your head to the left and swiftly bring your knee up into his crotch. Either way, he probably deserves it.

Happy Friday!

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda.

Yesterday was a good day in all aspects of a day.

1) Kids came home alive.
2) Husband came home alive.
3) I probably coughed up the equivalent of a newborn baby from my lungs.

Yeah, wouldn't do anything differently if I had a chance. That chance to do things over though? I bet I could find a day in my life I would do differently. I have to thank the uber genius, Jeff Sparkman for this brain worm though. He's already figured out when and where he's going back.

I thought I did but then I reconsidered. If I judged all my days like I did above, why would I choose to change anything? Every bad thing that's ever happened to me, whether it was jail, detention, bruising, sprain, car accident, broken heart, or just a bad day, it still got me to the present. And in the present, I'm a pretty cool chick, I believe. I survived the worst and lived to tell the tale. But let's just say we had to pick a day or a moment. The genie has a knife to your throat so to speak.

Fine! I'll pick a freaking day!

Now, this ain't gonna be easy and to be honest with you, the genie should just slice to the left. I wouldn't pick a day that changed me forever. I wouldn't pick a day that someone died. I wouldn't pick a day where I turned left and should've turned right. All of those days brought me to today. To change those days would break the space continuum. I don't want to do that!

Nah, the day I would choose would be this. Kindergarten. Lunch time. I, with my red Tupperware lunchbox. I hadn't opened it yet. I was just sitting there. Why didn't I open it and begin to eat? Well, earlier in the day, I had stolen Joey Carmichael's lunch money and it was in my red Tupperware lunchbox. It was about ten quarters and whenever I jostled my lunchbox around, you could hear the change in it. I was playing the part of an anorexic that day but Joey was hungry. He was crying because he'd "lost" his lunch money. My Kindergarten teacher, Miss Jones, was eyeing the lunch table and she'd zeroed in on me. Sweet, innocent, Jeanie was caught. Why did I steal his lunch money? I haven't a freaking clue! It was $2.50!

Why did I pick that day? Well, in my calculation, that was the day that I began lying for a living. That was the day that my sweet disposition was tainted for $2.50.
That was the day that I decided (stupidly) that I would forever lie, cheat or steal to save the persona other people had for me. I never wanted to make mistakes in front of people. I never wanted to admit a failure in front of people. I wanted people to believe that I was p-p-p-perfect. And don't get me wrong, nobody ever bought that I was perfect, but the amount of lies I told to try to get them to believe that I was perfect, defined me for the rest of my life.

Now here's the kicker. What would I have changed about that day? I woulda still stolen the $2.50. I shoulda put the money in my pocket. I coulda got away with it then!

Have a freaking fantastic Thursday people! What day would you change? What is your "Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda?"

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


The Big Picture

I'm dedicating this post to a friend of mine. It could probably apply to a lot of my friends so feel free to think that I'm talking to you. I promise I won't write a song titled, "You're so vain." :)

The Big Picture. What am I talking about? Well, I think every day there is something that defines that day. It could be someone that said hi to you. It could be someone that made you mad. It could even be a mere smile from a stranger. The Big Picture. It's the ability to find that one thing about your day that either changed you or made you stop and think. Now I know a lot of people would say that they don't have time to stop and smell the roses but you really do.

At the beginning of 2010, I decided to live my life differently. Don't fix it if it ain't broke. Don't sweat the small stuff. And finally, always look for the big picture. I've managed to continue this "resolution" of sorts so far and I hope I continue it.

I can probably count on my one hand the amount of people that have my back. They would never leave me in my time of need. They would never tell me a lie to me to spare any hurt feelings. They would never stab me in the back. I won't name any of these people off but again, if you want, you can think I'm talking about you. I don't look at the amount of friends I can claim and feel loved. I look at the amount of friends that claim me and feel loved. That's my big picture. To have somebody that trusts me more than I can imagine is my big picture.

To be able to live up to that responsibility without even thinking twice is worth more than its weight in gold. I never feel used. I never feel taken advantage of. I never feel unappreciated. I feel loved. In my opinion, your friend can come in the form of the dreaded spouse, the parent, the inattentive sister, the overworked friend or the friend that handed you Kleenex after Kleenex when you were broken into a million little pieces. They've seen you at your worst and they've seen you at your best. And through worse or best, they didn't see a difference because they saw the big picture. Their big picture was just you.

What's your big picture?

I bet if you really thought about it, it would be a simple find. You might even be surprised that its been there almost your entire life. You just didn't take the time to look at the big picture.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


I'm more gullible now than I ever was

I have this cold from hell that everybody seems to be suffering from. I felt a little better yesterday but woke up today with about 10 bricks in my chest.

Tuesday carpool today! Enjoy!

Me: Ugh, I've had this damn sneeze stuck in my brain for over an hour. It. Just. Won't. Come. Out.

E: Say Pineapple-wingnut-nimnuts! It works everytime!

Me: ::long pause:: No.

E: Why not?

Me: Because you just want me to say something stupid. I'm NOT falling for it.

E: I'm hurt that you would think I would do that to you. It works. Something about the tongue at the roof of your mouth stops the sneezing sensation.

Me: Why can't I just put my tongue on the roof of my mouth then?

E: It's how often you put it there. It's like a combination to a padlock. It's up to you. You either say something that sounds stupid or look like you have a feather stuck up your butt.

Me: ::sigh:: Pineapple-wingnut-nimnuts.

E: ::snort:: (He truly snorted too) Nope! Now you sound AND look crazy.

Me: I hate chu!

Have a nice day everybody! I still have to sneeze.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


You've been "purged."

Purged. A word that can prompt a visual of so many things. It's actually my favorite word to use when cleaning out my "friends" list on Facebook. I have over 200 friends on Facebook and I like to keep the number as close to 200 or under as possible. Why? Well, jeez, who can keep up with more than that? I don't get off on having friends. I'm comfortable in my real friendships. I don't need a pat on my back with the amount of friends I display on Facebook. Twitter is a whole other subject though. I have 60+ followers. That makes me happy. I wish more people followed my blog too. I know y'all read it but if you follow it by pressing that (Follow) button, it makes me happy.

If I ever do a purge on Twitter, it's usually if you are a pornbot and have one tweet that asks me to look at your webcam. Um....no. I have my own porn and my own webcam, thank you very much! I hate pornbots, they're usually gone within 24 hours by me or them. Who follows these people anyway?


My purge list. The why's and when's of making my purge list. Of course if you're reading this, you probably haven't been purged. It's still good to explain just in case.

1) You friend requested me but have never spoken or typed one word to me. That leads me to believe that you are wanking to my pictures or are just snooping to see how my life turned out. (I don't mind if you wank to my pictures, just make sure you say hello from time to time. Wash your hands first though. Oh and I don't mind being nosy either. Just make sure you wave as you peek through my window.)

2) You update constantly about how good/bad your life is. Seriously, one minute you're happy, the next minute you wanna kill yourself. I don't give a crap! Seriously!

3) You update that you hate Facebook and you are leaving for awhile, then ten minutes later you update how cute your kids are. Um....that kinda goes with number two, I don't give a crap! You look like an idiot that severely needs medication.

4) Your updates are about 8 sentences long and basically just occupies space. I neither laughed, cried or smiled. I probably wasted about 2 minutes of my life that I will never get back.

5) You update something ominous. Again, this goes with number two. I don't care. You wanna kill yourself? Don't let me hold you back.

6) You constantly update in text speak. Now I didn't purge the person that ALWAYS does this but I'm giving you fair warning, it gives me a headache when I try to figure out what you are trying to say. Honestly, if you have THAT much to say, write a freaking note and post it that way! I really do love this person so she'll never stop cause she knows that I'll never purge her ass.

7) Unwanted pop-ups in chat. This may make a few people nervous. What classifies "unwanted" in chat? Well, keep it short. DON'T tell me you wanna screw me as your opening line. (Make it your third line at least!) And honestly, you should be comfortable enough with me to know if I'm okay to chat with you.

8) Farmville! Good god man! I don't do it. I don't wanna do it. If you send me a fig tree or a purple cow? PURGED!

Well, that pretty much covers it in this purging. I have the right to add on though.

DISCLAIMER: I have no problem if you purge me either. If I annoy you with my mind, PLEASE, feel free to click on my profile and press the (Delete) button. It might piss me off for a second but in all honesty, you probably would've been purged next go around anyway.

There is also this button I press when you're about to be purged. It's the (Hide) button. One might wonder, why don't I just (Hide) instead of (Delete)? Well, you just don't understand the personal high I get when I do a purge. I have no control over most things in my life. The purge is the one thing I can control.

Don't hate me, embrace me....or I'll purge your ass next time. ;)

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Kids these days!

There's this email that's been going around forever about how kids these days don't know how "good" they have it. You know the one? We had to blow on our video cartridges to get them to work. Cell phones were unspeakable for anybody under the age of 30. Beepers were the thing to have. Yah, that one.

Last night, my older daughter had a choir performance. She did great by the way. It was a musical named, A Kid's Life. Picture it. The lights went out and technology was gone. ((GASP!))

It made me think of how adults would panic as well if we lost technology. I start shaking like a crack addict if my Internet is down. And good lord, if my phone has no bars? Yah, I feel naked. I'm not embarrassed by that though. I lived through the days when caller ID was unheard of. You had to pick that phone up to see who it was. Busy signals? Yah, we had to call back. I paid my dues. I deserve the luxuries of this century. We all do. Do the kids these days though?


Do we allow them to enjoy the luxuries?


Spoiled brats, I tell ya! But therein lies the problem. I couldn't imagine not being able to get a hold of my daughter when I couldn't find her. What did my own mother do when I was out playing or venturing off out of site? How did she do it? I embrace technology. I love the fact that my kids can spend all day on the computer or pushing the screens of their iTouch or iPod. As long as they aren't saying the annoying words of, "I'm bored!" If I ever said that when I was a kid, my dad would've kicked my skinny little butt.

Of course, I was never bored as a kid. I actually went outside to play from sun up to sun down.

Friday carpool today!

E: You guys are boring this morning.

Me: I'm just a circus monkey to you, aren't I E?

E: A circus monkey? Nah, but seeing as three out of the four people in this car are playing with their iPhone's and iTouch's...I've got nothing to do.

Me: Don't hate E. You'll get one someday. I mean, making 20 cents a day....what are you up to now? $16.40?

E: Funny! How many tube tops can you get with $16.40? Like 20?

Me: I wish! But lemme check my iPhone for possible sales. Gimme a minute.

E: I hate you and your iPhone too.

Ah, technology. It truly rocks! :)

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Why I love being me.

This sounds familiar, doesn't it? I talked about my measly biography a couple weeks ago and how agents don't care about anything like my size and weight. Oh, I ain't gonna tell any of you either. Let's just say, I'm happy with both my size and weight.


I have quite a few jobs under my belt. Only one of them has paid me. I was a cashier at a drug store and the pharmacist saw me talking it up with a customer one day. He said, "I'm not stalking you but I watched the way you were speaking to the customer. You seemed like you cared and wanted to help them with the way you spoke to them."

Ha! Fooled him!

I didn't care and all I really wanted to do was take my break. But it was that pharmacist that got me back in the pharmacy. He trained me, he studied with me and he made me actually start caring for the customer.

Okay, that story is over. I'm a pharmacy technician. I make somewhat good money for somebody that didn't want to go to college. A career actually. I'm not ashamed of it. I'm pretty proud of myself because those freaking tests were hard. I know about things that I probably shouldn't know about. I've worked with people that I probably never would've known had I been something else. My friends that I've made in this profession are the best. I take everything I get from those friendships and think they get something from me too.

Do you enjoy your job? Do you like the people you work with? Years after leaving a job, do you still associate with those people?

I can't imagine not having those people in my life. I love every single one of them. Y'all know who you are. Thank you for being a part of why I love being me.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


I think they switched babies at the hospital.

When I was a kid, progress reports and report cards were torture for me. Why? Well, the amount of absences and my grades were going to tell my parents a very scary story about their daughter. Yesterday, I get the phone call from the school. No, not THAT phone call. The automated phone call alerting parents that their children received their progress reports. After hanging up the phone, I asked my daughter why she didn't give it to me.

My daughter always shoves her progress reports and report cards in my face! It's like the ultimate, "I'm so much better than you ever were!"

Would this be the moment when I would ::gulp:: and find out my daughter isn't as perfect as she strives to be?


Why didn't she excitedly run in, waving her achievement in my face?

Because she's getting an 87% in English! ::GASP::

I would've blown my English teacher to get an 87% in English....if my English teacher was a man.

Seeing the disappointment on her face, feeling the sadness that she isn't perfect left me feeling.....um.....er....well, I was proud of her. Jeez! It's a B+ and I was proud of her. Who's child is this?

I helped out E's mom today and pulled a Wednesday carpool. Enjoy!

Me: How'd everybody do on their progress reports?

M2: I got a 2 hour lecture because I'm failing English.

Me: You are failing English? (Yah, this is quite the shocker because M2 is a very smart and eloquent girl)

M2: Yah, I'm getting an 84%. (I officially want to strangle M2)

Me: Um, M2? That's not failing. I think that's great. Good job.

M2: Can we switch parents M? Thanks Miss Jean.

M (daughter): I'm failing too. I've got an 87%. I don't wanna be lectured for 2 hours.

Me: You two kill me. Those horrible 80%'s are B's ladies. You can bring them up to A's but don't knock em. B's are worthy grades too. Freaking nerds.

E: I'm getting a 71% in English.

Me: Well, that's a C....minus. What did your parents say to you?

E: Um, try to get that grade up?

Me: What's up with the C minus though?

E: Well, unlike the two drama queens in the car.....I am NOT a nerd.

Ya gotta love E! He is probably my son in another life because this daughter of mine....just can't be mine.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Tuesday Carpool of Smiles

Yes, it's carpool Tuesday. The kids were a little sluggish today but they all managed to smile when they got into the car. This morning before setting off I had to order my daughter's Spring pictures. It wasn't a bad picture. She looked like she faked it pretty good. A little grimace that showed her perfect teeth. I feel her pain. I always hated school pictures too. I didn't start taking good pictures in school until Junior year. Oh and my Senior pictures were great too.

I'm not sure when it happened to me but I am NOT an annoying picture taker. I have friends that have to retake over and over again. I'm the girl that glances at it and says, "Whatever!" It's a freaking picture. The only time I'll retake is if my eyes are closed or my arm appears to be the size of my thigh. (Cause seriously, my arm isn't that big. WTF?!)

I've always had this thing that I've gotten used to. When I smile, one of my eyes squint a little. I don't know why. I always see it though. I can't fix it because when I try to, I always end up getting that "crazy eye" look. You know the look? Where they can see the whites of your eyes and you look like the photographer flashed you their goods. Yah, that one. So if I see it, which I always do, I just shrug and think, "That's just me. Take it or leave it."

Here's the carpool conversation!

Me: Did everybody get their pictures yesterday?

M2: I was absent on picture day so I didn't.

E: My mom never buys my pictures so I didn't even bother.

Me: Well, the package says I'm supposed to have 5 sheets in it but I only got 4. I swear if they screw me over with the missing sheet, Ima be pissed!

M2: How'd your pictures turn out M?

M (daughter): Typical picture. I look like he told me to smile and then I had to hold the smile for an hour before he took the picture.

Me: I thought you looked great.

E: Didn't you have curly hair that day M?

M (daughter): Yah, it's about the best thing in the picture.

Me: How come your mom never buys your school pictures E?

E: Cause she says I always look weird. I either look like I'm taking a giant poop or a clown walked into the room.

Me: Ha! Yah, clowns freak me out too.

E: Oh, no doubt. What the heck are they about?

Me: I find it hard to believe that your pictures aren't a little cute. I mean, you're her baby!

E: You've obviously never seen me take a poop....or heard the shrill scream I do whenever a clown is near.

Me: Thank god on the first and hopefully one day on the other.

Cause seriously, clowns are evil and should be banned in at least 48 states.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.


Partying with Cops 101

Disclaimer: This may not work for you if:

1) You don't have a tube top dress on.

2) You can't hold your liquor.

3) You frequently find yourself at the end of the night needing to climb on a table and performing a dance that would make a pervert blush.

Okay, so there are probably more rules to that disclaimer but I'll add on as I continue writing. Oh! Remembered another one already!

4) Your shot making skills are crap.

As the night began an hour early, that last disclaimer actually benefitted me. Nobody knew how to make a Jagerbomb. Seriously? How does one not know that? So scoot over boys, Jeanie's coming through! I'm adding some rules to follow along with the disclaimers.

5) Bring your own shot glasses to the party because big red plastic cups are so not shot worthy.

After three shots that were created to perfection, I reminded my husband of what an ass he made of himself the last year and proudly said, "It's my turn buddy. You keep your ass in check and watch mine tonight." I had the stellar tube top dress on, the compfy heels on and my hair was probably the best it had ever looked in months.

6) Don't tell anybody how much your dress cost because they will in turn look at their wive's dress and say, "How much did you spend on your dress?" (Sorry Christy)

Of course, that last disclaimer bit me in the ass when I told Jerry that I looked like a $5 hooker and he replied, "Well yeah but I'd probably spend $10 on ya." (Thanks Jerry)

7) When saving a table and somebody asks if they can sit with you, don't snicker and laugh, saying, "No, this is the cool table."

But seriously, if you weren't already invited to sit with us, you probably shouldn't have asked. Oh people can be so stupid sometimes. I sat next to my husband on my left and my friend Nita to my right. My husband has a tendency to speak more to his left so I had already knew I needed somebody to my right. (Thanks Nita)

8) When the food arrives, scarf it down as fast as you can because when the award ceremony starts, you can vacate the bore and smoke a cigarette or head to the bar.

9) Claiming a nut allergy will provide hours and hours of dirty jokes. (Thanks again Nita)

10) When there is a lady walking around with a camera asking if she can take your picture, make sure you say loudly, "I am SUCH a picture whore!" Then smile and stick your tits out. Next year's banquet will have about 10+ picture of me. Can't. Freaking. Wait!

11) Don't be afraid to make an ass out of yourself in front of your husband/wive's boss. Trust me, they'll finally understand why your significant other is so difficult to work with.

I got told by my husband's leutinant, "You're a crazy bitch aren't you?" My reply? "And this surprises you? Have you met my husband?"

12) When needing a late night snack, DO NOT bring a bag full of tacos to the party because people will talk shit behind your back.

But seriously, all you assholes knew I was going. Ya shoulda spoke up cause I may look like a $5 hooker but I ain't buying you tacos!

13) Try not to climb on a table when "Tik Tok" comes on the radio.

No, this wasn't me. It was a fellow wife that went with another couple. Her husband had to work. The story is, he is going to kick her ass when he finds out she made an ass out of herself.

14) Embrace when another wife makes an ass out of herself.

Because my husband forgave me for everything when he saw the table dancer. I could've stripped and he still would've thought I was perfect. (Thank you wife that I don't know your name)

15) When you look at the clock and see that it's 4am, try to remember that you aren't under the age of 30 and GO TO BED!

Half of these kids that are cops are all rookies AND are under the age of 30. There is no shame in saying that you are going to bed.

And finally. 16) Don't be afraid to start stripping in the elevator.

Because if you're lucky, when the elevators open, there will be somebody waiting to get in the elevator on floor 3 to ride all the way up to floor 18 with you. Ah, good times, good times. Even luckier, it will be a fellow police officer. My. Husband. Is. Going. To. Kill. Me.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.