Category Archives: LOL

This Resolution Sucks

One of my numerous New Years Resolutions:
To get more organized—not just with my stuff but in the management of my time (this should probably include not screwing around on the internet so much, yes?) and the running of my household (I know…so lame)

Current Resolution Status:
For three weeks I’ve been rolling this stuff around in my head, trying to make sense of just what it is I want to accomplish and also, more recently, to assess what I’ve accomplished thus far. Well, heh, that second part is gonna be a preeeeety short paragraph because right now, I have more excuses than progress to report. (See? See? Another psychological roadblock to actually getting stuff done…the old “I already know I suck at this, so no need to document” excuse. Gah. I really DO suck at this.)

Ohhh man. This is too hard. Maybe a nap and then we write? Yes? Pleeease?

No? *sigh*

Okay, I’ve been busying myself (because, you know, I have sooo much time to fill and not nearly enough tasks) with reading articles on the internet (THE SOURCE OF ALL KNOWLEDGE AND WISDOM) about getting organized, staying organized, and fighting clutter.

The problem? These articles are so…dry. So fact-filled. So utilitarian. So designed-to-actually-help. BLEH! There’s nothing sexy about decluttering in ANY of them. No earth-shatteringly easy secrets to organization that I could employ without even trying, either. And frankly? A distinct lack of of cute acronyms that I could actually remember in the heat of a clutter battle. Who writes this crap?

So yeah, I’ve been on this semi-passive quest for the holy grail of self-help materials; the quest for THE PLAN that will work best for me. That’s lazy person code for…the plan for which I have to merely breathe and be upright in order to execute effectively. As noted, I’m not having much luck—my life is still not organized, my time is still being squandered and frankly, all this domesticity is killing me.

I don’t know how all those Blissfully Domestic folks do it. The more I try to be pro-active and get caught up and be on the ball about stuff and just…DO…all the crap I was probably supposed to be doing anyway, the more made-of-suck I think this whole resolution idea is.

There has GOT to be a better way. But if anyone suggests a cleaning lady or a life coach, I might have to reach across the internet and pistol-whip you. And don’t think I can’t. We’re very high tech around here…

PS: Do men worry about this crap????

PPS: Please share your best get-your-life-and-stuff-under-control advice in the comments. Also feel free to share what DID NOT work for you.

Seriously?

I remember hearing awhile back that Disney’s squeaky clean teen queen Miley Cyrus had declared herself a virgin and intended to remain one until marriage. I think it was when she was seeing one of the less fortunate Jonas Brothers.

But then I saw a picture of Miley’s current boyfriend, 20 yr old model Justin Gaston, and I had to laugh a little about that very public pledge. I have nothing against virginity but COME ON!

He’s TWENTY…and let’s face it…he’s NO Jonas Brother.

justingaston8

I’m just sayin…

 

Thoughts on a Tagline

Tagline. Notice I don’t have one. I mean it’s not like a requirement or anything but sometimes it can help illuminate a bit about the author.

So…in keeping with the caffeine/coffee/I-stay-up-way-too-late thing that is the inspiration for this blog’s name, I started mentally toying with taglines.

Best one yet:

Always Up. Always Hot.

lololololol

I crack myself up.

What? Think you can do better?

Naked Statue Men

Yesterday we were watching Rick Steves’ Europe. As you’ve probably already deduced, it’s a travel show about Europe. And in Europe there are lots and lots of museums that Rick Steves likes to visit and of course, edumacate us on the works of art contained therein:

8 Year old daughter: What’s so great about a naked statue man with no arms anyway?

Kid’s got a point…what’s up with all the half arms???

Incidentally, we had a naked man statue (arms intact) peeking out from behind some foliage in our tropical jungle of a backyard. Shut up — he came with the house. Anyway, for a while N maintained that he was scary because he was, she claimed, always looking at her. One day, he just keeled over and the back yard is now safe again; naked statue man can no longer watch us or bring harm to us with his naked statue man powers.

Lost in Translation

A long time ago I had a t-shirt with some Japanese characters on the back along with a dragon graphic. I had no idea what the characters said and had honestly not given it much thought until a girl I knew who was a Japanese language instructor told me it said something really nonsensical and funny, which now escapes me. Whoever designed the shirt clearly did not get an accurate translation of English to Japanese.

Another time, we were reading the instructions for something and they said “Do not allow children to mucky-muck, owing to small parts.” Just another wacky example of inaccurate translating…

Judging by the photos below, the same could be said about translating the text and concepts on products and signs from Chinese(?) to English. Something has definitely gotten lost in the translation.

(I don’t know who to credit for amassing these pics but they appear to have come from Engrish.com, so thanks to them for the chuckle.)

If there’s one thing we don’t need help with…
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Here Crippie, you can have my seat.

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The dork is delicious, not too sure about the barboo…

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Time Limit for Teenage Boys: 15 seconds

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No breakdancing!
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They should franchise in the U.S.
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Where the emo kids shop…
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Weird, because horsebeans sound delicious.
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I wouldn’t tickle this one!
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Starbucks should be very afraid…
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Mother gets her anus hair done here!
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TWO DOLLARS? In America, we abuse our plastic for free!
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Look up and down the aisle twice before proceeding…
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Much tastier that the grown-up variety…
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Not nice. Some of my best friends are liquor heads.
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Go over there to die, please. Thank you.
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You ain’t gonna find it there, I assure you…
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Sounds better than canned water, doesn’t it?
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All sauces are now suspect….

 

Things I Learned This Weekend

Things I Learned This Weekend — this weekend being the weekend of my son’s 3rd birthday party…

I should note that the poor little tyke had been screwed out a proper birthday celebration for the previous two years thanks to the all-important family reunion beach thing, put on by the huz’s clan, that we’ve attended for the past 15 years or so.

I like to think of it as “THAT WHICH CANNOT EVER BE HELD AT ANY TIME OTHER THAN THE 25th WEEK OF THE YEAR OR LIFE AS WE KNOW IT SHALL COME TO A SCREECHING HALT!”

See, it just so happens that mah precious babay’s birthday falls during THE SACRED WEEK and thus, we cannot have a birthday party at home because nobody on the huz’s side would drive their tired asses 25 minutes in from the beach to attend AND IT WOULD BE SELFISH OF US TO ASK THAT…even if it was his first birthday, which is, to most people (like his parents), somewhat of a BIG EFFING DEAL.

So we celebrated his first birthday at the beach and it sucked. It couldn’t have been more of an afterthought but who cares because, you know, HE’LL HAVE ANOTHER BIRTHDAY NEXT YEAR.

Last year was the same kind of nonsense, more or less, and P’s birthday was something of a non-event. We opted not to do the family reunion thing, which was being held 3 hours south, and had a small party with a few close friends. Woo hoo.

This year, I was determined to give P his very own full-fledged kid party and that’s what we did. And it was cool. Everyone had fun. And considering that it was held outside at a park, it wasn’t even that hot. No extended family members were in attendance, as expected, and we didn’t care. It was a great party.

I tried to make the party as green as possible but dude..not as easy as it sounds. We did, however, bring an empty box and collected all the recyclable stuff. Also, I totally broke from standard kid party operating procedure and didn’t give out a treat bag full of useless crap because seriously, does anyone need anymore plastic whistles or mini yo-yo’s or ball-bearing puzzles or tiny bottles of bubbles or themed pencils and erasers or mini-packs of crayons or plastic slinkies floating around in the back seat of their car or in the junk drawer or under their kids’ beds?

I also didn’t have the kids do one of those pre-fab foam crafts, which, no offense, has got to be the stupidest waste of time and resources ever invented. I hate those foam door hangers and visors and crowns etc. that you make them sit down and decorate. I can’t tell you much of that junk has entered my home over the years. Seriously. Cannot stand.

All I sent the kids home with was their booty from the piñata (Smarties and Sweet Tarts) and a punch balloon. Remember those? it’s a big latex balloon with a rubber band handle and you bop it back and forth against your knuckles? Now those? Are a fun parting gift. And they’re latex which is biodegradable. I know…am genius :)

Now, as promised, here’s the short list of what I learned this weekend:

1) Just blow up about a hundred balloons because they were the most coveted thing at the whole damn party. Kids kept accidentally popping them and then asking for more and when there weren’t enough (because they were supposed to be decorations!) there was some balloon-stealing and subsequent fussing going on (this includes the 4, 5 and 7 year olds, too). Next time, I’m just going to pass out a bajillion balloons to the kids and everyone will be happy as shit.

2) Don’t buy anything your kid actually likes for a piñata. Case in point — my son loves trucks and construction equipment so we got him a piñata shaped like a dump truck. Um hello? When your son sees everyone beating the crap out of the piñata shaped like one his favorite things in the world? It’s not going to be pretty. Next time I’m getting one shaped like a snake because when I showed him one outside the other day? He no likey.

3) From now on, I will always make food for the grown-ups. Because the party was at 10am, I made two quiches (one vegetarian, one with sausage and cheese) and they were totally gobbled up. Doesn’t it suck when you go to a party and there’s nothing but kiddie-crap set out to eat?

4) No matter that your son has never seen Cars or Spiderman or Batman, simply because he is a boy, some part of every gift, whether it’s the wrapping paper, gift bag, card or the present itself, will feature the aforementioned marketing juggernauts. It’s, like, a rule.

5) You DON’T have to have a specific theme for a party. I know all the party stores and party supply catalogs would have you believe otherwise but really — you can break that silly rule and nothing terrible will happen. I used party stuff from previous years’ themes (Thomas the Tank Engine and Fire Trucks and some generic red plates and napkins) and picked up a few other things emblazoned with construction equipment and cute frogs and Curious George and we just rolled with the totally unmatchy-matchy anti-theme theme.

6) People do not care how obnoxious certain toys are or how much they make you want to rip your ears off. They will buy them for your child anyway. And then LAUGH about it.

Amazingly, the whole party went off with absolutely no stressing out on my part — a miracle I can probably attribute to a minute dose of physician-prescribed Xanax :)

My Parenting Book Deal Should Be Coming Any Day Now

I was woken up this morning with a tampon being waved in my face, unwrapped and thankfully, unused. I guess my son took a detour to the bathroom before coming to wake me up and demand “chocktick mook.” Can you decipher that? It’s chocolate milk. Yes, I’ve become one of those moms who gives their kid chocolate milk (Shut up! It’s Ovaltine. It has vitamins) instead of white milk because that’s all their preshus darling will drink. Seriously though, I just got tired of finding half drunk milk sippies all over the house and decided that a little chocolate milk never hurt anyone and that’s how we roll now. And I NEVER find half drunk milk sippies anymore. Am brilliant.

I’m also using Skittles to bribe my son to use the potty. I’m sure many of you are thinking that if I were more devoted and less lazy, I wouldn’t have to resort to sugary sugar-coated sugar nuggets and perhaps there’s some truth to that but honestly, I’ve been through potty training before and bribery often works just as well as following your child around all day asking them if they have to go. But alas, my confidence in the superiority of bribery is flagging lately because that method is not working quite as I’d intended.

See, he has been taking himself to the potty for months now (he’ll be three in June) which is great, right? There’s just one small glitch. He’ll only use the potty if he already has no pants on (not an unusual occurrence) The fact is, he just won’t take his pants down to go potty, opting instead to take the path of least resistance and go in his pull-up. I assume this is primarily attributable to laziness. He is, after all, my son. And honestly, who hasn’t wished at least once to be able to just pee into a nice absorbent diaper for the sake of convenience?

What? Is that weird?

So anyone who has an opinion, which is everyone, says I should just put him in underwear and pants and not use pull-ups anymore since he clearly knows when he has to go and is capable of taking himself to the bathroom without any assistance from me. And I’m all WHAT? Are you crazy? Do you realize how many pair of pants and underwear we’ve gone through already with that approach? And his sneakers? Peed upon right along with the sofas and the carpets. Were it not for Stanley Steemer, my house would smell like a freaking nursing home and if you’ve ever been to one, you KNOW what I’m talking about.

It seems we’ve reached an impasse. I can just let him go everywhere without pants on, which is tempting, or I can keep him in pull-ups until he’s like ten which is even more tempting except that those suckers are pricey and I’d rather spend that money on myself something more practical than character-festooned disposable underwear to pee and poop in, which, when put like that, actually sound downright absurd.

I’ve got to get him out of those things. Le sigh.