I’m not promising any magic in this post today, just a random rant that struck my fancy because I spend entirely too much time on Facebook.

Have you ever read those trending topics on facebook?

Right hand side of the screen? Popular stories? I’ll wait a moment for you to find it….

Ok well this week’s topics were the most asinine stories I have ever seen. I’d rather have scrolled through my newsfeed reading all the retarded status updates of gym losers posting selfies of their #AWESOME workouts. #HatersGunnaHate

In case you missed it, here are the trending topics on Facebook this week…

Hercules

Dwayne Johnson proves he is Hercules in this new trailer

Russell Crowe Meets Arnold Schwarzenegger

Can someone please tell “The Rock” to stop trying to make Dwayne Johnson happen! This man is having a serious identity crisis.

Did he really prove to be Hercules? Last time I checked he was a wrestler out of work, making movies terrible by starring in them.

America, when will we learn that ex-wrestlers/lifters/porn stars/ do not make good movie stars? Case in point: Arnold Schwarzenegger

Nick Cannon

Nick Cannon wears white face, sparks internet controversy.

Have you heard about this yet? White people are legit pissed.

Are they really that mad? Or are they just riding the “poor white people” wave they have waited so long for…FINALLY, a black guy does something us white people can publicly complain about. We can’t complain about their terrible grammar, music, bad behaviors or excessive breeding habits because that would be racist, but now, WHITE PEOPLE ARE FINALLY THE VICTIMS!

Yep, they have been waiting years for victim status. So in short, whiteys ain’t letting this shit go.

Let the man do some white face, it’s a compliment, not a diss.  Fuck people, stop being such ass hats.

Nick, welcome to world of being white…I think you nailed it, even the part where you married a cougar. Kudos.

National Football League

NFL will now penalize players for dunking over the goal post

Ok…And…If this is “trending” topic-worthy there is no reason as to why the pimple on my ass shouldn’t be.

Plus, aren’t you supposed to dunk in football? No? Wrong sport?

Stupid…exactly my point.

 Flight 370

Debris found by Chinese Satellites 

O Jesus Christ, here we go again…the Chinese satellites found “debris” floating in the ocean…for the third time this week.

Is it me or does anyone else question why the rest of the world would think these Chinese satellite images are credible? Let’s not even discuss the fact that Chinese satellites are probably sold in Walmart, made by a group of unpaid children in a factory but I just don’t see debris in the picture.

Although if I squint my eyes hard enough looking at the images, similar to how the Chinese would look at it, then I do see plane debris. But then again I also see Godzilla in the left hand corner, so who knows.

Squint and See

The bigger mystery is, how do the Chinese see anything out of those eye-slits?

How? HOW CAN YOU SEE?

Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin

Uncoupling

Here we are, just uncoupling

Spoiler alert: they split up.

It was an “amicable” breakup or what Gwyneth calls, “Conscious UnCoupling”

Please explain what Concious Uncoupling means. Do people use this term, “Conscious Uncoupling”? Is this a thing now? I can’t wait until the first turd starts using this phrase on Facebook.

Status update: Me and Chad decided to break up. #ConciousUncoupling

How does one “uncouple” themselves? Do you just decide, hey lets start to uncouple. I’ll bang some guys tonight, you bang some girls tomorrow and we can start this uncoupling process. We will do things in an uncouple way.

One benefit to this break up…Coldplay might actually decide to consciously uncouple themselves. Wouldn’t that bring joy to the masses. We can finally stop slitting our wrists listening to their depressing music.

North Korea

Kim Jong Un requires all North Korean Men to get haircuts…like his haircut

Attention men of North Korea, you are now ordered to cut your hair like a fat faced penis. Don’t feel too bad, you could be like us Americans who are now required to buy health insurance. Imagine the horror of that!

Although, it could be worse, he could be requesting that everyone get haircuts like his pal, Dennis Rodman.

Who would you rather look like? An asian version of Hitler or a black, green-haired pirate?

The choice is yours:

 Jeff Gordon and Stephen Rhodes

Come out of the closet as a gay couple

I think the world is coming to an end. Jeff Gordon announces he is a gay man in a relationship with openly gay driver Stephen Rhodes.

No, wait, this is supposedly a hoax according to searches on Google…but it’s too late, this has already spread across the internet. Nobody knows its a rumor, especially a bunch of red-neck NASCAR fans. Unfortunately they are illiterate. All they saw was the picture of both men holding hands and went nuts. Some fans have already committed suicide from the news. In fact, I saw 4 less Gordon flags flying this morning.

FACT: NASCAR fans reportedly have been seen running into the northern state borders with guns screaming, “Kill all the liberals and the gays!”

FACT: I have lost faith in humanity.

Can’t wait to see what crap is trending on Facebook next week…until then!

This is an original drawing

I never understood the stick family phenomenon.

You know, those stupid family conglomerates stuck on the back of minivans?

I live in a typical suburbia environment where minivans rule the road. I know I’m getting close to home when I start to see the plethora of stick people dance across my line of vision.

The population of my town has been reduced to stick figures and no one seems to care.

This might sound crazy but I think there is a competition going on with this stick family obsession.

The more stick people that populate your back windshield the better! Let the stick kid breeding competition begin!

I frequently ask myself, where did this begin?

I think I also found the answer:

America Loves Stickers

I saw a van the other day that had 9 stick kids.

Yes, 9.

Why would you want to tell people you have 9 children? When I see you have 9 children, it makes me want to drive up next to you and scream, “Stop breeding stick people”.

Plus, if you drive a minivan I already assumed you have a mass litter of kids.

The irony of the whole thing was that this particular minivan had an additional bumper sticker that read,

“Proud supporter of my neighborhood watch program”

Well,  you’re not doing the neighborhood watch any favors by inviting every single child molester in the area to follow you home. Basically your family decal is  putting your litter of stick kids in danger. While you think it’s cute to have stickers on the back windshield, to a pedophile you are saying, “Hey, we have kids! And lots to spare! Come by and join the fun!”

The sticks have gone to your brain.

If I were to post my family stick status, I would have a mommy stick, daddy stick and baby stick. I would also include two doggie sticks, one cat stick and one rabbit stick.

People would officially know that I am an animal hoarder. This is why I am not a stick fanatic.

The only benefit to this stick family obsession is that it can be a great source of gossip for the rest of us…and who doesn’t love a little gossip?

Just last week, I found out that my daughter’s classmate has TWO dads.

How?

I saw this:

Dad-to-Dad Parenting

And then I noticed a change in my neighbor’s stick family situation.

She added an additional stick child (she is expecting) and removed her stick husband (they are getting a divorce).

The big X just gave it away.

You can learn a lot when you pay attention.

Shockingly, this trend has caught on in non-suburban cities like Newark too!

Typically in these parts of town, I expect to see death decals:

Debbie Downer Stickers

However I was presently surprised to see this:

Hard Core Jail Time

Baby mama has custody of the kids while baby daddy does jail time…O, and they have a dog.

Honest, entertaining and to the point.

I love it.

But the fun doesn’t end there, I am starting to see some really creative stick family decals that I think are worth mentioning…

Everyone has a little family dysfunction

Dysfunction at it’s finest

Why be stick people when you could be a family of tight-ass chickens?

Even the Single-Cat Lady wanted to partake in the fun!

Any takers?

Proud and Loud Mormons

And finally, what’s a family without a little passive-aggressiveness?

Those damn hoes wreck everything

I will never understand the point of this trend.

Maybe it’s along the lines of putting reindeer antlers on cars at Christmas time. Or maybe it’s a deep seeded need for humans to feel validated by the use of stickers; anyone remember Kindergarten Star Charts?

No, that’s not a memory we would like to re-visit, I agree.

So many sticks, so little time…

I got slapped with a speeding ticket this week. Doing 91 in a 65 is apparently too fast…who knew?

I’m from Jersey. When you have a sign that says, 65 MPH it’s safe to assume the normal speed is at LEAST 85mph which means I was only going over by 6 MPH.

Logic people, logic.

Speed Demon

By the time I saw the officer in my rear view window, it was too late. That fucker caught me.

I swerved over to the shoulder and collected my necessary identification, waiting for the officer to approach. I glanced in the mirror to fix my lipstick and realized I had forgotten to put on makeup this morning. Shit.

This was going to be tough to get out of with no makeup on. To make matters worse, I hadn’t had my coffee. My bitchiness levels are always high before coffee.

I took a deep breathe and said to myself, “Ryan, be a nice girl. Be sweet and flash a smile.“

But in reality I thought:

My thoughts were interrupted by the short midget Mexican cop knocking on my back window, “Ma’m, roll down your window“

I rolled down the passenger side window.

“Ma’m, roll down your back window and put your hands on the steering wheel where I can see them” he was anxious and looked nervous.

I felt the bitchiness levels rising at a rapid pace…”Well, OFFICER OF THE LAW, I can’t roll the back window down if my hands are on the steering wheel. This car has bluetooth, not fucking mind-reading-tooth“

“Ma’m, just roll down the window“

I complied as the officer peeked in to find anything illegal stashed in the back.

All he found was a left over bag of Doritos and a car seat.

I was annoyed at this point because this man felt threatened by me. Granted I had no makeup on, I’m sure he was a bit scared but still, white girl with a carseat…come on bro.

We had some unfriendly banter back and forth…

He questioned me asking why I thought I had gotten pulled over.

I responded by questioning him, why he questioned me, since he was the one who pulled me over.

He sat perplexed, which was my original plan…confuse him with questions and it worked. He smiled knowing he had been defeated and walked back to his car. He came back to the window after fifteen minutes and handed me a piece of paper…

“Have a nice day. Ma’m. I cut you a break today“

You cut me a break? How? You still gave me a ticket? And now you want me to have a nice day? Sure, I’ll have a nice day when you pull back on the highway and get run over by an 18 wheeler.

Kidding, I would never wish that, but seriously if it happened, I would smile a little before taking my time to call 911 on your behalf. The rage I feel for traffic cops could crush the Great Wall of China…

I sat for a minute and looked into the mirror and said…

Who could ticket this face? Who?

I flashed myself a smile to get back on a positive note and that’s when I saw it…a massive piece of kale left over from my healthy “green” smoothie.

Fucking, kale…you ruined it!

No wonder why I got a speeding ticket, not only did I not have make up on but I had a large thing of kale just hanging out. How can anyway take you seriously with a bunch of kale shoved up in your teeth?

Can YOU spot the kale?

I wished at that moment I had a time machine. If I had a time machine this would have never happened to me…I would go back to the age of 6 and make this all alright.

*Flash Back, circa 1991*

“Now Ryan, wear this retainer every night till the age of 10. You will have perfect teeth and we will close that gap up nice and tight! Nothing will get in or out!“

“Yes Dr. Orthodontist“

Fuck that shit, I’m not wearing it.

If I had just listened to the damn dentist that day, I would have been happily driving myself to work on Monday morning. Humming along, thinking of a better blog post to write for this week.

AND if I had worn my retainer, I wouldn’t have shot juice through my teeth in 10th grade.

If I had not shot juice through my teeth in 10th grade, I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of by my classmates making me bitter about my teeth.

If I wasn’t bitter, I would have not been driving like a mad woman down the highway.

And if I was not driving like a bitter, mad woman, I wouldn’t have gotten pulled over for speeding with kale stuck in my teeth.

And If I didn’t have kale stuck in my slight-gaped tooth, I would have successfully gotten out of my speeding ticket.

Kale may be the god of all vegetables but it will ruin your life, especially if you didn’t wear your retainer when you were 6.

Decisions, decisions, decisions. How many decisions do we make on a daily basis…coffee or no coffee? Pumps or flats? Do work while at work or write this blog post?

The tiniest decisions can impact your entire life. I actually believe the most impactful decisions are the tiny decisions that you don’t think about. The tiny choices in life lead to bigger, better decisions down the road. Your best decision yet was probably prompted by a smaller decision in the past. Meaning…the right, smaller choices lead to better, bigger choices!

Ouch, my brain hurts from that paragraph. It’s kind of like trying to understand the relationship of space and time. Or thinking about what you think about when you are dead; you just can’t do it and I’m not smart enough to write about it.

SO…I decided to make a Vlog for this week’s Finish The Sentence Friday post. Focusing on some of the small decisions I make that are my best…Enjoy.

What small decisions add a little extra light to your day?

To the little girl who calls me mother,

I wanted to write you a letter this Mother’s Day because you are the reason I am being celebrated for my MILF status (I threw in the MILF part).

You are only 4 years old but at 4, you blow me away.

Before you came, my life was like any typical college kid my age. The world was my oyster and my five year plan was as solid as a brick wall. You were a factor that I had never considered.

Doing my typical college thing

When I found out about you, I was only 20, still a baby myself in many ways. Like the fact that I still didn’t know how to wash a load of laundry without shrinking everything in it.

Two weeks before I took that pregnancy test, I competed in a college Beer Olympics with your dad. I must have drank between 12-15 beers, chugging them as fast as I could. Sorry about that. Your little peanut fetus must have had as much of a hangover as I did. However, your dad and I won the Olympics so that trophy you stare at on the wall was well worth it.

Dad was super excited with his winning Russian hat.

Then there was that time when I was about 7 months pregnant and turned 21.  Instead of getting wasted on my birthday, I got loaded on raw-free sushi. No complaints here, I’m sure you were just as happy as I was that night.

That same week my doctor said I could have a glass of red wine, my first drink of alcohol since the Beer Olympics. I ordered a red sangria…I thought it was red wine with fruit. Sometimes young mothers are stupid. Halfway through that sangria I realized that it was filled with more than just red wine. Between the slight buzz and the angry looks from other people in that restaurant, I should have noticed sooner. My bad.

This explains everything

When you were born, you were not the cutest newborn. You were purple and had a slight resemblance to the asian gas station attendant down the street. I’m sure your dad was a bit concerned but didn’t say a word.

Do you see what I’m saying?

As you filled out and got your chubby baby rolls, you became the prettiest little thing I had ever seen. You had bright blue eyes like your dad, my smile and your own unique laugh that was contagious. You should have been the poster baby for GAP, you made Prince George look like a pile of elephant shit.

Can’t handle the adorableness…Neither could GAP

Heart Melted.

When you were about 8 months old I brought you shopping with a friend…a non-baby-experienced, friend. She took you into a dressing room while I finished getting my hair done and sat you on a dressing room table. Of course you fell off and bumped your head. She brought you back to me wailing, your head looked like Worf from Star Trek.

That was a bad day for you.

I felt terrible, probably not as terrible as my friend but that was the first time I questioned if I was good mother. The minute I coddled you in my arms and kissed your boo-boo, you calmed down and smiled letting me it was ok. I left with my hair half done, but I didn’t have to pay for it so it worked out. Needless to say, my friend will not be allowed to take you shopping until you are at least 10.

By 2 years old, you mastered the art of a taking a selfie before it was even an art to master. You would take my IPhone and snap pictures of yourself for me to find. You don’t know this but your secret selfies got me through Monday mornings.

Awesome in a selfie

At 3 years old, you were more mature and smarter than most kids your age. You are an old soul. I know this because you asked me one day to stop calling you a baby. You said, “I am 3 years old and should be called a little young girl“. It broke my heart a little bit but it was a fair request.  Or that time you wanted to use your Chuckie E Cheese money to buy a Dora doll. You insisted on using your own money to buy what you wanted. At 3, you already were an independent “little young girl.” Beyonce would be proud.

Independent women don’t give a F*$#! in Crayola Factory

Now at 4 years old you continue to amaze me. When we went camping and a wild animal ate all your marsh mellows, I did my best to keep you calm by explaining that we would get you more. You simply looked at me and said, “Fuck it, whatever. It’s no big deal”. I should have scolded you for using profanity or put you in time out but I was so impressed you used it in the right context that I couldn’t. All I had to do was explain that “Fuck” is an adult word and should be used by adults. You now you reprimand me for using it and say, “12 year old girls shouldn’t use that word.” I hope you think I’m still 12 in a couple of years.

“Mom!”

I love when you make me laugh uncontrollably, which happens often. Especially that time we went for a 5 minute walk and you told me your boobs hurt from walking so much. You told me you wanted to lay down so you could rest your boobs from such a strenuous hike.

After two years, Dad and I finally found the secret to keeping you a clean kid. Who would of known the detachable shower head would be the trick to get you to bathe more than 2x a week. My outlook for your hygiene is now bright.

The god of all clean children

As you get older, you are turning into a little me. I worry about your dad’s sanity. Having two of me in one house might be a bit much for him. We may not find most of his jokes funny, but he is crazy about us. You will find out soon enough that he is wrapped around your finger and always will be.  Give him a break every now and again, he tries his best to keep up with your mile-a-minute stories. And I know his dreams of you becoming the first female NFL player are excessive, especially when he times your 50meter sprints in the driveway.  He means well. I will do my best to keep him at bay but wearing his favorite team’s football jersey on Sunday is out of my realm, nothing I can do about that.

I got nothing to do with this.

I often wonder why you chose me to be your mom and am so incredibly grateful that you did. I will never be the perfect mother and you will never be the perfect child but you are certainly perfect for me. One special thing we will always be able to share is that we are growing up together. The bond you and I have will never be duplicated by any future siblings you may have one day, it’s only for you and I .

I can’t wait to see what great things you will do. You will fail and you will make mistakes in life and me and your dad will fail and make mistakes but we will always love you unconditionally.

I promise that I will always be honest with you and tell you like it is. I promise that I will always do my best as your mother. I promise that you will not like every decision I make for you or that I will like every decision you make for yourself. All I ask is that you promise me to do what makes you happy and that will always make me happy.

On this Mother’s Day I’m not thankful to be a mother, I’m thankful to be YOUR mother. I wouldn’t replace you with any kid out there because for me, you are the most perfect “little young girl” I could ever ask for.

Love,

Mom

Re-Posting this from last year, it’s too priceless not to share again!

Enjoy Mother’s day Weekend Everyone!

If you haven’t gotten your mother anything by this point in time, its too late. Running to CVS to buy a last minute bath set is TOO obvious. You might as well make a card and write a nice poem, mothers always seem to enjoy that.

Available at your local CVS Store

Although, if my daughter grows up and writes me a poem for a gift, I might be offended. Let’s see- I pushed you out , stayed up many nights with you while you threw up, shit, and drooled all over me and all you can write is a poem? Yea, maybe that’s not the best idea, stick with the CVS bath-set.

Anyways, id thought this year I’d do something special different for my mom.

She has been tip-toeing around me, on her best behavior for fear that my next blog post would be about her and her darkest secrets…

Well mom, the wait is over, NOW is YOUR moment!

Let me just say, my mom is an amazing woman. She is the best person I know and I wouldn’t be me without her. She has taught me to be strong, motivated and to never apologize for being myself. She has also been my best friend since the age of 20 (because during the teen years, your supposed to hate your mom).

That being said, Ive learned a lot from my mother and there are some things I think are worth sharing.

1. Saturdays are for cleaning

In school Fridays were never about Pizza Day or the day before the weekend. Fridays for me were The day before cleaning day. Saturday was ALWAYS cleaning day. If the apocalypse hits on a Friday, your still shit out of luck because your ass is getting up at 7am on Saturday and cleaning. When we finally got a cleaning lady I thought all my chore problems would go away but no, Saturdays became the day to clean before the cleaning lady.

2. Girls Always Wipe From Front to Back

I’ve always wondered why? No idea, but it might have something to do with my vagina. 24 years and counting of Yeast infection sobriety. Thanks mom.

3. Fashionably late never exists

My mother shows up everywhere 30 minutes early. Know those people in your life that you show up late to EVERYTHING. Like you send them a different party invite with the start time earlier than it is? Well my mom is the opposite. She is the person you change the invitation to say 30 minutes later…

4. Never shave the tops of your legs

I listened to this advice till about 8^th grade. Then one day I wore shorts and I was deemed “Hairy Tops”. I never got why she thought you shouldn’t shave the tops of your legs, until I noticed the tops of her legs aren’t the only thing she skips out on shaving. Now, I understand.

5. Photogenic ability is a gift, not a right and sometimes my mom just doesn’t have it…

Like this…

Or This…

Resemblance?

And Finally This…

Well nobody looks good in this one.

6. Once you go black, you never go back

This was in reference to a white girl dating a black guy. I always assumed it was negative. Then I started hearing the rumor that black guys got big “Disco Sticks”. Now I’m starting to see the truth. Once you have had black, there Aint NO REASON to go back to white. You Go Mama-O

7. Never put a TV in your bedroom, it’s unproductive

According to Mama-O, the bedroom is for sleeping and “something else”. The minute I moved out, I put a TV in my bedroom and realized that watching TV in bed while doing “something else” is multitasking.

Speaking of “Something Else” that reminds me:

8. The “Sex Conversation” doesn’t have to be a conversation at all

When I learned what sex was at the age of 7, I went home, disturbed, and ask my mother

“I learned about sex today…you and dad don’t do that do you?”

“Yes we do and you should feel lucky that your parents still have sex very regularly after this many years of marriage”

-END CONVERSATION-

9. She Puts All Hand Talkers to Shame

10. You Can Run, But You Can’t Hide

I remember a day when my mom owned that ugly box 90’s van, light blue to be exact. My sister and I ran away from home, I was 7, Sam was 2. We packed our barbies in a suitcase and planned to skip town. We made it to the local playground and hid out. After about an hour (Yea, it took an hour for her to notice her bundles of joy were missing)I see my mother’s van speeding up and down the street like a mad woman. By the way she was driving, she was mad-I mean pissed off- gunna kick my ass -mad. She found us partly because it was dinner time and I was hungry and because two blondes hiding in a slide were a dead give-away.

When you saw this, it was all over

11. No dinner table conversation is off limits

My family has the most inappropriate dinner conversations. Some topics have included; how big my sisters poop was, the importance of using condoms. But the one that takes the cake; My mother bragging that my father didn’t need Viagra at the age of 49 in which my youngest sister replied, “What’s Viagra?”

More Sausages anyone?

12. Punishments get easier with sibling order

My sister and I grew up during a time when spanking was still OK. It was never considered child abuse. We would stuff towels in our pants before we knew we were going to get spank to ease the hand of my parents. Our little tactic worked well until my sister started laughing hysterically while she was getting spanked-mom caught on real quick.

Now I see my youngest sister get punished and there is no spanking, not even a threat of spanking. Her punishment is “Go to your room and play your with your kindle-your punished” I was definitely born in the wrong order.

13. You will always be responsible for raising your male spouse

This is so true and I wished I listened to this piece of advice a little more. Not only do I have remind my husband to change his underwear, but I also have to shop for his outfits and teach him how to chop onions. Step it up Boy-Mothers, your children are killing us women.

14. There are two types of people in this world, those who are Chowns and those who want to be Chowns

Chown is my mother’s maiden name. I always thought this saying meant Chown women were long legged, tall and have gorgeous million dollar smiles. But recently, my sisters boyfriend clued me into what this REALLY means. When my sister asked him:

“What do us “O” girls have in common with our mom”

To which her boyfriend replied:

“Everything. Your boobs, you all have nice boobies”

AND That is what it means to be a Chown or want to be a Chown- It’s all in the Boobs.

15. White Girls Can Dance

16. Love is a Choice

The best and last thing I have learned from my mother is that Love is a Choice. You don’t fall in love, you choose to love and this piece of advice I TRY to live by everyday. There are some days that this choice is difficult and days that it is impossible, but I wake up each day choosing to love not only my spouse, but everything and everyone around me.

Mom, I hope you can choose to love me after this blog post.

Happy Mother’s Day everyone!

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/05/12/daily-prompt-mom/

Hi Everyone! It’s been awhile…I’m feeling guilty about my absence from the blogging world. I haven’t been eating popcorn watching Netflix this whole time I have just been busy with my newest addiction to stand up comedy and preparing for my cousin’s upcoming wedding. (The bachelorette party put me out of commission for about 5 days. My brain has slowly started to come back to me.)

Also, I did my very first REAL LIVE SHOW on Friday! Whoohoo! I got to perform with Rain Pryor, the daughter of legendary comedian, Richard Pryor. What a fun time it was and I got my dad to video tape the whole thing for you. Please note at the end when an elderly man gives me the middle finger…nothing like pissing off a senior citizen to start off your comedy career.

On another note, I am a guest writer for Can I Get Another Bottle Of Whine today! It’s all about the time I went to my first AA Meeting. Make sure you check it out here and don’t forget to follow Kate, she is a hilarious blogger that has a special talent for Twitter.

Blogging will commence shortly….stay tuned.

I recently found my motivation for going to the gym every single morning.

I….I….I….don’t even know how to say this the right way….

I have a real life midget at my gym.

A Midget works out in my gym.

In my place of fitness, we have a midget member…that lifts weights for real, not for entertainment.

I have a special fondness for midgets. Some people are scared of them, some people want to kick them but I can’t contain my excitement for the little people. In fact, I adore them.

This is how I envision my life:

It’s a hard life living in a Big World.

When I first saw this little person it was on my way to the bathroom. I stopped dead in my tracks. For a moment I thought I was dreaming or that the circus was in town….but it turns out, we have a new member. And it’s the best thing since Frozen came out on DVD.

Let me ask you this, have you ever seen a midget leg-day? Have you ever seen a midget do pull-ups? Have you ever seen a midget do a dead lift?

Do Midgets even lift bro? Fuck yes they lift and I have gone to the gym 6 days in a row to watch it. That hasn’t happened since treadmills had TV’s installed.

I’m certain that this gym midget and me were destined to be friends. I have always wanted to be friends with a midget, it’s been a life dream. I have never known one personally and only have seen them in public places, like at the zoo. Actually every time I go to the zoo I see a midget…maybe there is a correlation?

However, I started to think about the possibilities of us becoming friends and I’m a bit worried as to how this whole friendship would play out.

Me with a midget version of myself

Here are my concerns:

1. I can’t hide my excitement for midgets. When I talk to the midget at the gym, I sound like I can’t breathe. I also smile like a creepy child molester. I’m 73% sure she thinks I want to eat her.

2. I’m not sure how to greet her. This is a new kind of etiquette zone and I’m lost as to how to maneuver it. Do I bend down on the floor to say hi? Should hugging be avoided? If she hugged my leg would it be acceptable to pat her head?

3. We could never share clothes. The best I could do is offer her some hand-me downs from my 4 year old.

4. What if we decided to go out to a bar and there are no booths available? We would be forced to sit at the high top tables. I’m assuming she isn’t a trained ninja that can scale a wooden chair leg, so would I have to pick her up? That might be awkward.

5. Forget pedicures. Could you imagine a midget getting a pedicure? The spa I go to has some strict nail technicians; Le-Le would have none of that.

6. Taking walks. I like to be active with my friends and enjoy taking long walks…but 1 of my steps would be 4 of her steps. She would be tired in less than a mile and then I might have to carry her on my back. I could bring a stroller, I have an extra one but I have a strict safety policy on strollers and would insist she be strapped in.

I think a snuggie would solve most of these issues but I wouldn’t want to push this idea on her too fast.  We will just have to take things slow.

I tried googling, “How to be friends with a midget” but no credible advice columns came up. If anyone has been in this situation before please let me know what are the Do’s and Don’ts. My friend circle is small so I don’t want to mess this up without being properly educated.

So, how was your week?

I’m about to have a Chelsea Handler status

I hope you all are recovering well after a three day long weekend of boozing and sunshine. I’m writing this after a very long weekend which means I’m still paying for it. I shouldn’t feel so crappy today, we had a fun weekend with good friends. We even got to take Addison to her first “friend” birthday party. Her first party at 4 years old…I know it sounds like a late “first” right? It’s not like she’s a loser and never gets invited to parties, it’s late because my husband and I were too chicken to take her to the other parties. Sure that sounds selfish but when you are the youngest parents there by 10+ years, it’s a little intimidating. Plus, introducing yourselves as Ryan and Ryan can get annoying. We can only handle it in doses.

Birthday Party Fun

Superhero Party!

So we go and it was just as awkward as you could imagine. Parents standing around, not sure what to do. Nobody was talking to one another or being friendly so it was a lot of sitting and watching the kids run back and forth. At one point one of the mother’s sat next to me. I decided to strike a conversation and we chatted about stupid shit that mother’s chat about. She told me she was a teacher at Addison’s school and was raving about how great Addison was.

Then she asks, “Where is Addison’s little sister? Did you bring her along today? Or was it too hot to bring her outside?“

This is not the first time Addison has told her schoolmates that she has a younger sibling…but something about this detailed question made me realize that maybe the whole sibling lie was a little more extreme than I had anticipated.

“Addison doesn’t have a little sister.” I replied.

“What? She tells us these stories about her little sister, Sarah.  One time she told the class that Sarah has brown hair and brown eyes. She did also mention that Sarah has a condition where she can’t be around other people or go outside for long periods of time. Wow, all of that was made up? “

I didn’t know which was worse, the fact that my kid is telling people about an invisible, rabid little sister or the fact that these teachers are dumb enough to believe her.

Everyone, meet Sarah…Addison’s younger vampire sister

Addison has been known to be “creative”. I choose not say, a “liar” because she means no harm in making up these stories. I knew we were in trouble the day she began describing her most fondest memories of Disney World. She explained that her happiest moment was when she got to meet Mickey Mouse in person and he kissed her hand...we have never been to Disney World. Or my personal favorite when she told me her greatest hobby is saving baby monkeys in Africa. Yes, apparently my daughter saves baby monkeys in her free time.

To be honest, I have no idea where she gets this from….SEE: MADE UP SHIT I TELL MY KID

We left the party shortly after. Addison was strapped in her car seat, happily munching on her 5 lbs of pinata candy. I felt now was the best time to confront her about her little “sister”.

“Addison, why do you tell everyone you have a sister?” 

(Silence…..)

“Your teacher told me that you have a sister named Sarah. Not only that but Sarah cannot go in the sunshine or be around people.” 

“Well…I tell them she can’t be outside in the sun, it hurts her skin…And she is not allowed to be around other people because she bites…”

Good God, Sarah bites…

“Addison, why are you saying that? That is called lying.” 

“Yes. But they ask me about her and I cannot stop telling them. I cannot.”

“Ok, Please stop telling your school that you have a sister who lives in the basement because she bites people.”

The Family according to Addison

Apparently Sarah was on vacation with us!

Who knows how long these people at my daughter’s school actually believed that I have a rabid, blood sucking child locked in my basement at home. No wonder why I get weird looks when I pick her up from school.

I think I just heard Susan B. Anthony roll over in her grave this morning…seriously Susie B. is pissed. Betty Friedan even made a mandatory meeting with her posse to discuss if prescription drugs are to blame for the lack of intelligence in today’s female population. Gloria Steinmen is getting ready for a full-on bra burning session later this afternoon…

I was perusing Facebook this morning looking for new quizzes that would tell me what spirit animal I am or what Disney character I resemble when I stumbled across a tumblr account called, Women Against Feminism. Have you heard of this nonsense?

Intrigued I clicked on it and found much to my dismay yet another reason why I should completely lose faith in all of humanity. It’s a blog composed of females posting pictures and holding signs saying why they don’t need “feminism”. Some quotes include, “I don’t need feminism because I’m not a victim” or ” I don’t need feminism because men are not villains”.

Apparently, young women of America think feminism is a “Man-Hating”, violent and slut-filled movement.   I almost threw up from the pure ignorance. Every five minutes a new picture goes up…that’s how many people are actually jumping on board with this crap.

Holy mother of gosh, what is happening? SMH.

Something about this whole thing just rattled my woman cage. Probably because it’s a complete slap in the face to the entire population of women, worldwide. And because this movement is gaining so much traction by people who clearly are misinformed by what “Feminism” actually means.

I can’t believe that these young women, who by the way are reaping the benefits from feminist movements, have the gall to promote all the reasons why feminism is no longer a needed “ideology”. These women, who are the future of our country, are posting misrepresented information all while women in other countries are still fighting for the right to just read and write…but who cares about people in other countries? Seriously, as long as you aren’t suffering from inequality then that’s all that matters.

Can’t even handle it right now.

I’m clearly disappointed in today’s youth (that makes me sound oldish) but as I look through all these #WomenAgainstFeminism posters, I find that majority are teenagers who have no idea what they are talking about. I can only hope that their thoughts on this will change but I would like to give them some harsh words of advice:

You are an embarrassment to your mothers, your peers, your aunts, grandmothers, sisters and women worldwide. Instead of writing on a piece of paper and snapping a selfie, take the time to research what feminism means, what it has done and what it still needs to do.  Don’t be brainwashed by something you know nothing about, feminist fought so you have the right to educate yourself before making a decision.

In pure, That Girl Ryan fashion, I’ve decided to publicly respond to a select few of these anti-feminist posters by creating my own posters…they are meant to be funny not insulting…but they are a little insulting…

I can’t help it, I’m just a feminist.

Feminism in government? No way!

Spoiler Alert…it’s already on the agenda

 What about those feminist sluts?

Very valid point you have here…

Feminist hate masculine men.

Just say no to beards and manly stuff!

Wait, Christian Grey is real?

How dare you compliment a woman’s body, we don’t stand for that.

Guurrrrrllll!!! You go!

Feminist don’t have families because we don’t believe in cooking…or cleaning or breast feeding!

F*** the 1%, them bastards don’t know nothing about family.

‘Merica is the only country that exists…duh

This is my favorite

 Hopefully this nonsense will stop.

 Fly Your Freak-Feminist Flag High Ladies!

Boy Ryan and I have had some shitty luck with neighbors over the past few years. We’ve lived under a bat shit crazy women who would knock on our door for talking too loudly, had a neighbor contact the home owners association for a suspected “dog dumping and not picking it up “incident and a run in with the neighborhood “violation” board for not weeding our patio. It’s been a rough and exhausting couple of years living in the world of renting which finally gave us the motivation to buy a house.

I moved to my house almost two years ago and at the time had no idea what I was getting into. Boy Ryan and I bought our house from two suspected lesbians. I say suspected because it was never confirmed, however one lady was super butch and the other wouldn’t stop staring at me during the closing, so I feel my evidence is strong for this theory. Plus my neighbors nicknamed our house, the “lesbian house”.

My house sits about 100 feet from a neighborhood lake. We have a club house, a beach and A LOT of “lake” parties. The usual attendees who participate in lake parties are interesting characters. The first few times I went to a lake party two things always happened; 1. I stumble home and 2. I would be told by the residents that living in this neighborhood is, ” A LITTLE PIECE OF PARADISE”.

Everyone who lives here is very close, eerily close and I’m thinking this neighborhood might be a huge community of swingers. While I haven’t seen any keys being exchanged, it’s a definite possibility. Hopefully I won’t get lured into any odd situations after a heavy night of lake drinking, if I do, you all will be the first to hear about it.

The Lake People are all in their mid to late 50’s. They will drink you under the table and tell you about things you have never even considered. For example, 10 reasons baseball can cure erectile dysfunction. Again, never crossed my mind before, yet highly informative.

Basically on a weirdness scale, my neighbors fall somewhere between Lady Gaga and Weird Al Yankovic.

Here is a diagram of my street. Each and every neighbor have a corresponding nickname given by myself and Boy Ryan based on the encounters we have had with each one.

A. The Mean Old Lady

Mean old lady is probably a hoarder. I haven’t been in her house but I’ve watched hoarders enough to know the personality traits of a hoarder. She never leaves her house unless to yell at someone and rarely takes out the trash. I spend a lot of time staring out my window and have observed her the most because she sits at her window doing the same. Long story short, she hates us, I’m not sure why, but its probably for one of the following reasons:

1. Boy Ryan accidentally blew 3 leaves onto her lawn last fall. She came outside like a bat out of hell ready to shove that blower down his throat.

2. She is severely constipated and blames us.

3. Or she’s offended that Addison asked her if she was a, “legit” witch while trick or treating at her house last Halloween.

B. The Crazy Cat Lady and her emotional abused husband

I’ve written an entire post about the Crazy Cat Lady a while back. Basically my “angelic” dog attempted to eat her cat not once, not twice but three times. The point is, he never succeeded in eating her cat and the thing is still alive. We have done our neighborly duties by training our dog (through shock therapy) so he can’t leave his own yard and that should have been the end of the situation. However, that hasn’t stopped her from starting a dog-hating revolution on our street. She makes sure to stand at her glass door each and every Saturday morning holding her cat as if to remind me that she is the alpha female on the street. In a true passively-aggressively  way, I make sure she knows how much I respect her by never helping her shovel out her car when it snows. The only thing that disturbs me about her is her husband. This is a man who Is truly scared of his wife. He doesn’t speak unless spoken to and only chats with us when his wife is not home. One time he and I were having a conversation and when her car turned down the street, this man literally ran back into the house before she pulled into the driveway. I wonder if he got a beating for that?

C. The Pirates

Our favorite neighbors are the Pirates. This couple is wild and borderline trashy. The husband has a ton of tattoos and walks with a slight limp which prompted our daughter to call him a pirate; the name stuck. He loves to drink and can only remember your name when he is past the legal alcohol limit. The first time we met him, he showed up at our door with a case of beer; really he’s a great guy. He brings his own hookah to parties and will kick your ass in corn-hole. The couple has around 45 animals; at least 4 dogs and a ton of cats that run wild around the neighborhood. One of the cats is the size of a small lion and beat the shit out of our dog who, no surprise, tried to eat him.

D. The invisibles

The invisbles live directly next to us. We never seem them come in or out of their house and are not really sure they exist at all. I thought I saw them once but I might have been hallucinating.

E. The Partridge Family

This couple has 4? maybe 5 children who each have outdoor chores on Saturday morning. Mowing the lawn, raking the yard, weeding the plants…they are always doing chores. At night, the children sit outside on the porch and sing while their parents play the guitar. I’m pretty sure they write and produce their own music which is beyond impressive. The children sing in different octaves like something you see right out of The Sound Of Music.  When it’s raining out, they leave their front door open and you can find them around the fireplace jamming out.

I might want to be adopted by them.

F.The Lake Ladies

These 5-6 women are the shit. They “cast” off to the center of the lake on lounging floats with floating coolers filled with wine each Sunday at 3pm. I know this because I patiently wait on the beach for an invitation. Sometimes, they call their husbands to row out on the lake and replenish their wine bottles. When I grow up, I want to be a lake lady.

G. Packs of Children

For some reason there are always pack of children running around the lake. I don’t know who they belong to, they might be feral children. These kids keep to themselves while the adults drink, like all children should do. Occasionally I will drop off my own child so they can teach her how to occupy herself while I drink wine but I always pick her up before she gets the urge to run free with them. These children are basically free babysitters with an aversion to wearing clothes and shoes.

Hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

This neighborhood is slowly rubbing off on me. Who knows, by this time next year I could join the swingers club and really get into this little piece of paradise.

Part of Finish the Sentence Friday!

It happened. It happened to me. I never thought it would.

But how?! Was it my text? The way I responded? Maybe I seemed too over-eager to meet up.  I tend to get a little excited about new relationships.

This was my first time, I thought I did everything right. We met at a party and hit it off right away. We kept in touch every now and again and exchanged facebook friend requests. Then one night, after finding the courage in 3 glasses of wine, I sent a text asking to meet up and it worked! We set a date and time and double confirmed the details. The day came and I could barely contain my excitement. I showered, shaved and even put on my new fall booties. I anxiously awaited by the door as the time neared closer to the hour you said you were arriving but you never came. You never showed up. You never rescheduled. You never even cancelled!

Yes, I got stood up…on a date… on a play date.

I normally don’t do play dates. The thought of sitting in a stranger’s house while our kids play and leave us to small chit chat is excruciating. Especially when there is no wine involved. I went with my daughter to one birthday party/ play date and it was probably the worst thing ever. I’m not sure which was more painful, the fact that each and every kid at the party had a melt down or that people assumed I was the 18 year old babysitter hired to help.

Yea, play dates aren’t really my thing.

But they almost were…last year at a party, I met a girl that I had gone to high school with. I found out she had a son who is close in age with my daughter and immediately we hit it off.  By the end of the night, we had decided we should get together; the kids could run themselves tired while we drank wine and complained about them running wild.

It sounded like a dream play date come true.

Basically, I tend to get really overly excited when I meet new people. I am that over-eager friend. When you say, “we should get together soon” I respond with, “how about tomorrow”? Yea, I’m one of those people. Making friends out of college is a tough task. You no longer have drinking buddies or Sunday brunch besties. As you each begin to start new jobs and get married, you are lucky if you keep 2-3 friends from college. Sure, you can make work friends but all you really have in common is work and all you probably do is bitch about your boss. So to say that I was a tad excited for this meet up is a bit of an understatement. For this play date I went out and bought a cheese spread…Yes, A MOTHER FUCKING CHEESE SPREAD.

This was serious.

Our guests were to arrive at 2pm and confirmed earlier that morning we were still on. I did some last minute cleaning, brushed my dogs so they were less smelly then before and sat patiently on the couch awaiting their arrival….

2:00 ….Ok, it’s time! I’m sure they will be here any minute now.

2:15….silly me, nobody arrives right on time, she is probably just being fashionably late. 

2:30….Maybe they stopped to pick up some desserts. 

2:35….They must have hit a detour in the road

2:40…I hope they arn’t dead

2:45…They are definitely dead

2: 50…I’ll send a text

Text : Hey! Are you guys on your way?!

3:00…No response

3:15…Ok, Seriously this is rude, the cheese is melting 

3:20...I’ll start an episode of Scandal while I’m waiting

3: 30…Shit, I ate all of the cheese 

4:00…Fuck it, I’m changing out of my bra and watching NetFlix

4:30…Drank entire bottle of wine and fell asleep

Can you believe I never received a response or cancellation from this girl?

Look, when a man stands you up on a date it’s expected because men are douche bags, but women, women know to cancel plans. They either reschedule or come up with a half believable excuse as to why they can’t make it. This girl straight up just went missing in action. I even kept an eye on the news in case I heard about a mother and son that were taken hostage!

For two days I had no idea what happened or if this girl was even still alive. Lucky for me, the world is small and I found out she planned a birthday party for her son the same day as our play date was scheduled.

Ok? Weird? Maybe she forgot about the birthday party?  Some people might forget a planned birthday party for their kid…right? But still, shoot me a simple text like, HEY-gotta reschedule, totes forgot my kid’s birthday party is today!

WHAT IS THAT? Why are people so damn weird?! I got a cheese spread for crying out loud! 

At least Addison sees right through the bullshit. When I asked about her thoughts on being ditched on her first play date, this is what she said,

“This whole situation is awkward and so is that kid’s mom.”

Well said.

Good god, are we doing this again? Happy Birthday To Me!

Photoshop Cred to my wonderful coworker

^ FYI this was the birthday invitation sent out to my company by coworkers-I deserve a promotion

I’m 26. I’m still at the age where I’m not afraid to admit my age. I cried last year when I turned 25 but I have realized that as I get older I am really starting to figure shit out…so I’m pretty happy to be turning 26. Plus, I feel a lot older than I am and wouldn’t mind my age catching up a bit. I know that sounds horrible but when you prefer the company of people in their 40’s to people in their 20’s, you begin to feel impatient. While the rest of my 20 something generation is trying to find a special purpose in life, I’m over here like shit, is it time to retire to Florida yet?

I’m 26 going on 40 and I know I’m getting older because…

1. I finally understand the power of a hand towel

I never got the point of hand towels, I thought they were just over sized wash cloths with no purpose. This was until I started purchasing hand soap to place in my bathroom- you know to wash your hands-and now I understand the need for a small-but-not-too-small towel to dry your hands.

Hand Towels are awesome!

2. My routine is my life

I go to bed super early, like 9:30pm early.

There is a method to this madness…If I don’t go to bed at 9:30, I won’t wake up for my 5:30am workout. If I don’t work out, I eat fatty foods, If I eat fatty foods all day long, I am cranky when I get home. When I am cranky, nobody wants to talk to me.

I am a slave to my weekday routine which is why I decline invites on weeknights. Don’t ask me to get drinks because I will say no. If you want to come to my house, it’s all good between the hours of 6-9. If you are not out the door by 9:15, I officially don’t like you anymore.

#I’mLame

3. My Hair is getting shorter

I never understood why people grow up and cut off all of their hair.

“I’ll never do that”

Guess what, I did. Chopped all 8 inches of my hippie hair.

People, I’m about 2 inches away from a MOM cut. Help me.

4. I got called, “boring” 

I told my 24 year old co worker the highlights of my weekend which include catching up on Netflix shows and drinking craft beers on the couch and she called me boring. I laughed it off at first and then went home and cried about it because it’s true.

5. Old people hangovers

I remember the days of drinking until 4am, sleeping for 4 hours than waking up and starting all over again without hesitation. Now I drink three beers and have to raid my medicine cabinet.Plus if the night doesn’t start by 8pm and end by 11pm, it’s not happening.

6. If you are 22 years of age or younger, you will think I am a pessimist.

<22 yr old says, “I can’t wait to work!” 

I say, “Give it a year, you will hate it” 

<22 yr old says, “I just want to be free and travel the world before settling down”

I say,“You won’t have enough money to do that alone.”

<22 yr old says, “I know I’m going to be an executive by the age of 30″

I say, “Maybe, but you should probably move out of your parent’s house first.” 

Pffttt…Kids these days.

7. I hired a cleaning lady

First sign of grown up success.

8. Dislike driving at night

Hello, grandma. Scary things happen to your eyes at night.

 9. I pay attention to Public Works Announcements

Trash day happens every Tuesday, Leaf pick up day is once a month and there is no recycling enforced in my town…which pisses me off.

So pissed I actually sent a letter complaining…

10. I have a strong desire to make my own food

Like pizza and Stromboli. It doesn’t matter I can drive down the street and buy it from the pizza place, I just want to make it at home.

11. I know the difference between Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon

And prefer to drink it out of a bottle, not a bag.

12. Infomercials are starting to get highly convincing 

I am the proud owner of a magic bullet. I use it 2x a year.

I currently have my eye on the “lettuce spinner”, looks like something I just need.

I’m looking forward to 26, I can’t imagine what old people habits I will pick up this year! Let’s just hope 26 doesn’t bring on any grey hairs or cracking knees!