Grrrr ....

Yeah .... it's turning into one of "those" weeks.

I'll be back later tonight with a proper post and the
winner of this weeks Haiku Monday.

                                                                                  

Hair today ....

Last weekend, Jack & I had a wedding to attend.
On the day of the wedding, his niece came over to do his Mothers and his daughters hair.
I hadn't made an appointment for mine as I feel very capable of doing it myself.
However, Jack's Mother would have none of that.
So, I sat and she did my hair.
It was awful.
Bless her little heart ....
She's sweet as can be and puts forth all her effort.
Believe me, I appreciated her hard work.
My hair is a bitch and a half to style.
It's unbelievably long (down to my waist), it's thick, naturally curly and it frizzes.
My hair frustrates MY hairdresser and i've been seeing her for 20+ years!

Anyway, as she was styling me, she asked if she could come back on Sunday and just give me a trim.
I agreed because I knew my ends needed a good 2"-3" off.
Sunday at around 5, there was a knock on the door.
It was Jack's niece.
She had arrived to trim me up.

I wet my hair down and she got down to business.
As i'm sitting there hearing the snip snip, it dawns on me that I haven't seen any of the hair that's been cut.
But in my heart, I knew.
She had NOT followed our agreement of 3" MAX taken off.
Jack's daughter walking in confirmed my suspicions.
Her eyes were wide with horror.

When she finished, I stepped away to the bathroom to see what had become of my lovely mane.
I looked in the mirror and burst into tears.
My hair was GONE.
My waist length hair is now barely touching my shoulders.

I have been distraught ever since.
I know it's silly ...
I know there's nothing I can do about it ....
I know it'll grow back .....
But right now?
I'm sad and angry.
I feel naked and exposed.
I feel OLD.
I don't feel pretty.
(ok, i never feel pretty .... but that's a whole other post)


I don't feel like ME.

Change?

What the fuck happened to Blogger????

I've never switched to the new template style.
So why did Blogger decide to change what wasn't broke?
My comments look like crap.

*sigh*
Change.

Maybe Wordpress is in my future

More of the same ...

I saw my doctor today ....

He released me back to work on Jan 30th.

With restrictions.

I can't lift OR pull anything over 20lbs.

Exsqueeze me???

Due to the nature of my job, I can't go back to work.

For 3 more months.

Fucktard say what???

Can y'all see the flames that are shooting out from every orifice in my body?????

I've been out of work for just over a month, and now I have to add another 3????

I won't make it.

I WILL kill someone.

Or at least severely HURT them!

Or myself.

Not only that, but I don't get disability.

My job doesn't offer it for part-timers, and technically, that's what I am.

I am beyond a BAB! (Broke Ass Bitch)

I may have to sell a child!

Anyone in need?????

Anyone??????

*chirp*

That's what I thought ......

*Excuse me now while I go drink myself into oblivion and maybe take a Vicodin (or 5).

*not really .... but it sounds good right about now!



Peaceful Journey to you Ms. Etta James!

UTERUS*

So ... since I haven't heard from my Doctors office, I decided to give

them a lil' jingle and find out when my surgery might be scheduled.

After being place on hold for a gajillion  few minutes, the Office Bitch Manager

comes on the line and proceeds to tell me that I have to sign a consent form first.

OK says I.
I will come today and then we can get it scheduled right away, right?

Um .... not quite.

According to my (lame-ass) insurance company, the consent form has to be

ON FILE for at least ONE MONTH prior to surgery.

EX-SQUEEZE ME???????

Do the math .....

(I'll wait  .... I want a coffee anyway)

Everyone with me now? Good.

So ...... there goes Black Friday shopping!

AND 

I'll be on strict bed rest for the first 2 weeks AFTER the surgery and recovery for another 6!

I hope the kids don't want Christmas.

*I just want you all to say UTERUS .... it makes me giggle.  =)

Life; interrupted

*I know it's hard to believe, but the world (mine in particular) DOES NOT revolve around YOU!

Get the fuck over yourself ....

Live your life .....

STOP trying to worm your way into MINE!

That is all.

*This rant is in no way intended or directed at any of my gentle and lovely readers.

Some days you just gotta let it out.

It's Monday ...... again

"Did you know that you have a few golf ball sized fibroids behind your uterus?"

Hmmm ..... so THAT'S where I put those!

WTF?

How would I know that?

Sweet hell .....

I REALLY hate Mondays.

Roller coaster of life ...

Life is funny.

In a weird, warped and twisted sort of way.

Which fits me, as I am weird, warped and twisted.

Today I received some AH-MAZING news!!!!!!

(Yay me!)

Within a half hour?

Not so AH-MAZING news.

The good and the bad.

(and may hap ugly)

Things that make you ecstatically high one second ....

Can make you unbelievably low the next.

(like a roller coaster .... only mine is a psychotic and broken one.)

I know this is how life goes.

But some days?

Well, it's just not much fun.

(like sucking sweaty rhinoceros testicles) 

Especially on a Monday.

Grrrr .......

June ....

I want this horrendous month to be DONE.

True Lies ......

When Arnold & Maria announced that they were divorcing after 25 years of marriage, I wondered why.

Then I read this today:

"Former California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger has acknowledged he fathered a child with a member of his household staff more than 10 years ago."
The particular article I was reading  further states, "The name of the former member of Mr Schwarzenegger's household staff with whom he fathered the child has not been made public. But reports said she worked for the family for 20 years and retired in January." (coincidentally, that is when Maria moved out)

Question answered.

In the words of Sarah Connor, "You're terminated, fucker".

Dream ....

After a very long drive, I pull up in front of your house.
I remove my suitcase from the trunk and walk up the steps.
Before I can knock, you open the door and drag me into your arms.
You entwine your fingers through my hair as your lips devour mine.
We're not even in the house, we're in the doorway ... half inside, half outside.
Our hands are flying all over; trying to remove coats, shirts, pants and anything else
that's keeping us from being the way we want to be ....naked.
We stumble into the vestibule, slamming the door behind us as we tear each others clothes off in earnest.
We've been apart for far too long, so 'romance' will have to wait till later .... when the 'fire' has been somewhat quenched.
I fall back onto the couch as you drop to the floor and bury your head between my legs.
I let you gorge yourself for a few minutes, but only for a few minutes.

I need to feel you inside of me ... filling me.
My ache growing to a crescendo as you enter me.
You sink your teeth into the soft flesh of my shoulder as we bump and grind out the weeks of loneliness and missing each other.
For the next however many hours, we explore, renew and re-introduce ourselves.
Finally, sated, we pass out ... only to awaken and start all over again.

*SIGH*


REALITY ....

After a very long drive, I pull up in front of your house.
The Boy jumps out of the car like his ass was on fire.
Poot soon follows screaming, "Where's my DS? I have to pee!".
The newest member of hell, Princess, decides it's time to play.
I ask The Boy to grab the dog and take her across the street to the park so she can pee.
Meanwhile, Poot is telling me to hurry up, he wants out.
I get out of the vehicle, grab Poot and my suitcase.
I walk up the steps open the door, step in and look around.
No one is around to greet me.
As I stumble in the front doorway, I hear you coming in through the back door.
Swearing.
You must have been at your parents.
You see me as you come through the kitchen, but you can't get to me as Poot has decided
to attach himself to your legs, making walking almost impossible.
Meanwhile, as I try and get my coat and boots off, The Boy comes through the door with Princess.
The dog pushes past me, dragging The Boy with her into me.
We all collide and become entangled in her leash.
I reach over, release Princess from her leash and then finish removing my boots.
As I'm bent over removing my boots, Princess is leaping on my head to try and get back to The Boy, who is on his way back outside to bring in the rest of the luggage.
With Poot firmly attached to your legs, you finally make your way over to me.
Well, close enough for a quick peck on the lips anyway.
Anything more than that is impossible as The Girl (your daughter) has now heard all the commotion and has decided to come downstairs and join the party.
The dog goes nuts, jumping up on her, and you.
The CAT walks in, sees the dog, hisses and then runs away and hides.
The Boy brings in the rest of the luggage, Poot runs upstairs to pee, Princess finds a comfy spot on the overstuffed chair and I think, "Finally! He's all mine".
But no, The Girl has a bajillion things to tell me ... and they all have to be told to me NOW.
So .... after 6 hours, we climb upstairs, close (and lock) the bedroom door behind us,
and kiss.
Finally.

*MFM

Mondays suck.

Mondays after a week off REALLY suck.

Mondays after spending my week off with Jack are torture.

That's all I have to say today.

*MindFucking Monday or MiddleFinger Monday .... take your pick.

Twas the Sunday before Christmas .....

.... and all through the house, not a creature was stirring,
except for a 5 year old on "kiddie crack" (pop tarts).
When what should my blurry eyes should appear, an equally "cracked" out 15 year old bouncing around saying, "Can we go do MY Christmas shopping today Mom, please? Please? I wanna go to Target!".

On the Sunday before Christmas?
Are you out of your sugar induced little MINDS?????
All I heard in my head was, "I triple dog dare you!".

Oh for fucks sake, it's only my sanity, right?!
It's overrated anyway.
All went well, and we made it home safe .... *and in one piece.




*I DID end up with a NASTY case of road rage in the parking lot.
Some little Barbie Bot on her CELL phone was about 6 in away from slamming into the side of my VAN as she ran the STOP SIGN.
Yes, I called her the "C" word.
She deserved it.