Things that are peeving me.

The allergies from which I am suffering. Out of nowhere, I am sneezing like mad and my eyes are red & irritated. Getting some meds today!!

Those stupid Lilydale chicken commercials. Could the “real life” people doing the talking be any more wooden? And that annoying “chef” at the end - he’s GOT to GO.

The fact that my kids leave the water running on the slip ‘n slide, and WALK AWAY. We’re on a WELL, small people, so use it wisely.

The sunburns on my kids’ backs. Highly preventable, husband dear, had you thought of the fucking sunscreen. OY.

This is getting old.

It has snowed here almost every day this week. Hell, for the month of April. Today, May 1st, we woke up to yet another dump of the white shit. I’m having my winter tires taken off today - I’m illegal as of last night. Funny, I suppose our government assumed the fucking snow would typically be GONE by May 1st. Silly of them.

There is one small upside: soccer has been delayed a week. This helps me immensely, considering I just confirmed all my coaches two days ago, the t-shirts aren’t in, the jerseys will be late, and none of the teams in either of my two divisions have their actual equipment. I’m not the only one doing the last-minute scramble, which has alleviated my guilt.

Other things I think about posting, but cannot find the time:

- I participated in a soccer coaching clinic on Saturday evening. What a workout!
- Soccer clinic + burning trees for 4 hours on Sunday = one sore ass & two sore legs.
- My computer. It’s screwed. I need to get it to a repair shop soon, or I’m going to drop-kick the damn thing.
- Computer again. I managed to delete all the accessories AND games on the weekend, in a vain attempt to remove Internet Exploder, which I blame for 92.4% of computer problems. I do NOT use the program, but it’s there, and it’s fucking with my karma.
- I am having an internal debate about my oldest cat and the fat dog. Cookie (cat) is almost totally blind, losing weight slowly, generally cranky, and prone to living under my bed for days at a time. Methinks this is not a great quality of life. Goldie (dog) is old, probably arthritic, and tends to go through bouts of using my living room as her personal bathroom. During those times, I am certain she needs to go. Then I give her an anti-diarrheal med, things improve, and I like her again. GAH.

Ok. Brain hurts. Thank god April is over.

Random brain farts.

Driving 700 km in two days takes a lot out of a person.

I’m surprised that the howling wind outside my hotel room didn’t keep me up.

Room service?  ROCKS.

Room service?  Holy overcharging, Batman.

That bastard Murphy was all up in my shit today:  son #1 woke up barfing (while I was 300+ km away), which meant I had to have my mom stay home with him, which put my office at 50% of normal staffing.  Of course, this also meant that the remaining staff got pounded with business today.  Oy.

I can’t believe nobody noticed how sticky the puked-on bathroom floor was.  Ewwww.  Austin did a fine job of cleaning up, he’s just got to learn to do the whole job.

Why the fuck do I have zits at 34?  Fuck off, already.

4 am.

That’s when my phone rang this morning.  And yes, I answered it, even though it usually doesn’t go well.  The last time, it was D’s alarm monitoring company, calling because some back-check phone call didn’t work.  Bullshit call, and the guy didn’t need to call.  Especially not our home number, where D doesn’t even live full time.

Anyhoo.

This morning.  4 am.  I answer, some stupid bitch says, “Stop calling me.” then hung up.  And, at the risk of sounding like a racist bitch, I’m pretty sure she might have been a resident of our local reserve.  Either that, or she did one hell of an impression.   She (he?) called again, but I didn’t answer.  No message, and I turned off the ringer.

Then I couldn’t fucking sleep!  Which made me very angry.

So, I lay there, awake and pissed off, when I noticed that the message waiting light was flashing again.  Are you KIDDING me?!  I listened to the voice mail, and it was some gibberish song with swear words.  Now I’m thinking:  Young.  Drunk on hooch. Random-dialing people.

If it continues, I’ll use the call-trace option (even though the number is blocked, the phone company knows damn well who’s calling me) and/or add a call-screening feature to my phone.  Whatever.  I just don’t want the phone to ring at 4 am.

Re:  previous post.  I adore Maine Coon cats, strangely enough.  My girlfriend had one years ago, and he was just the most beautiful and sweet cat - he was probably the cat that made me comfortable with the very idea of having cats of my own.  Hm.  I’m going to have to get one someday.  Maybe when the numbers reduce a bit?

The hits just keep on coming….

It’s fun times around this place.  No, really.

Jack has this weird reappearing/disappearing fever thing going on.  Friday night = fever.  Saturday = nothing.  Sunday night = fever.  Monday night = nothing (well, it was really low, and was gone all day).  Tonight = fever.  Tomorrow = DOCTOR.  The child slept 16 hours on Friday night, was passed out on the couch at 6:30 last night, and has been asleep for over an hour tonight.  Gahhh.

We couldn’t take our usual route home yesterday due to a rock slide.  Had to take the toll highway, which is just annoying.  And takes longer, especially when one stops in the big(ish) city en route to see if, just maybe, the shoe store has those shoes one was too stupid to buy when one saw them last month.  Not that this happened to me.  Uh, yeah.

I bought some foundation on the weekend, thinking it’s about time I made it a part of my daily routine.  I know, I know, no foundation?  I’m just lazy, and haven’t felt a burning need until recently.  I tried it on half my face yesterday afternoon, and then proceeded to have a conversation with the father of Austin’s friend when he came to take A to karate.  I’m sure he didn’t notice, but come on.  I have no dignity.

Upon arriving home yesterday, we discovered two spots where the goddamn fat dog had peed, and she’d also shit just for good measure.  This is the dog who will not ask to go out, unless you count standing around looking stupid as asking.  GRR.  Tonight I found a pile of cat shit in the bedroom - Cookie’s Official Protest as to the state of the kitty boxes - and the fat dog shit in the living room when I shooed her out of the bedroom so I could vacuum.  Fuuuuuck.  I swear, I’m an animal lover, but those two aren’t going to last much longer with the shitting & pissing in my house.  And they never use the fucking lino.  What is UP with THAT?!

The house has now been de-cluttered, the animal messes cleaned, the upstairs vacuumed, the bed stripped, and laundry started.  Fun times on a Tuesday night.

Oh, and as a final cherry on the top of my shit sundae, I’m sick.  AGAIN.

Must. Post. More.

Some days, I feel I’m just hanging on.  As noted in my last post, February is…ahem….pissing me off getting me down.  It’s just so goddamn drab.  The snow, while still marginally pretty, is just a pain in the ass.  The temperatures keep changing, and this usually means I have to shovel the damn snow.  Again.

Work is slow, although I probably have a million things to do.  I just keep avoiding/ignoring/forgetting about them.  Go, me.

I’ve been told I need to exercise (I believe the term was vigorously) and I just can’t get motivated.  Someone kick my ass.  PLEASE.  Heh.  I’ll be doing that myself, I suppose.  The exercise thing will help as part of my treatment plan - isn’t that official sounding?? -  and raise my endorphin levels.  Or something.

Basically, no sex because my husband lives far away and winter weather is making it nearly impossible for him to come home on weekends is making me cranky.  REALLY goddamn cranky.  He’d better be home and naked by 6 pm on Friday, or I can’t predict what might happen.  It’ll be ugly, people.  Front-page headline ugly.

Bleh.

I think D has it right:  February sucks.  Sure, there’s the big excitement of Valentine’s Day* to break up the monotony.  But really?  There’s a reason this month is short.

It BLOWS.

Mother Nature can’t decide if it’s time for more snow, blowing wind or temps above zero.  Everything is icy.  Driving is a crap shoot.  It’s still dark by 5:30 pm, and it’s barely light when I head to work.  What a depressing fucking month.  March has some potential…I’ll actually see the snow begin to recede, and can consider removing my snow tires.  I just have to get through February.

Wish me luck.

*Yeah, right.  Can you hear the sarcasm??  I don’t buy into the whole V-Day bullshit.  Haven’t celebrated it in…um, never, I guess.  Who needs overpriced roses, a cheesy card, and chocolates that go straight to your ass?  Fuck that.

What the?

I’m confused by a commercial I keep seeing on TV. It’s for Bailey’s, a lovely liqueur that I have been known to drink on occasion.

Scene: guy in kitchen, surrounded by beautiful women, all of whom are fawning over him (to some degree), when he performs the miracle that is whipped bailey’s on top of coffee. Ok. It’s a semi-cute premise, but what is up with the guy? He’s so fucking skeevy I feel gross just looking at him. Unshaven (and not in a good way) and only able to conjure up one “sexy” look that borders on leering.

Ick.

Why do these shitty commercials even exist?

Ranty McRantyPants, that’s me.

B (neighbour boy, 14 yrs old) must be inherently stupid. He watched the boys Saturday while I was busy with the auction. Fine, no problem. His mom & stepdad called me at the auction, asking if my kids could stay the night (stepdad has 2 young boys the same ages as A & J, so every weekend is play time). No problem. This morning, I talked to S (B’s mom) and made sure Austin could stay over there while I went into town to help clean up the hall (Jack came with me).

Tonight, just as he’s going to bed, Austin tells me the following:

1. While I was in town this morning, B decided they needed to BREAK INTO MY HOUSE to get some fucking toys to play some fucking game. Austin didn’t want to go in the window, so T (Brad’s step-bro, 9 yrs old) did.
2. Once in the house, B dumped out a fuckload of A’s toys, thus creating a disaster in A’s room. He didn’t pick up a goddamn one.
3. When leaving the house, they accidentally let Wiley out, and had to BREAK IN A SECOND TIME to put him back in.

Livid does not come close to my mood right now.

I’m glad A told me, because this is unacceptable behaviour. I’m not so glad that he didn’t say “stop” to them before they were in the first time, and because he waited all fucking day to tell me.

It’s bad enough that he thought it was a good idea to break in, but the window he chose is especially bad. Basically, there’s enough room for a skinny 9 yr old to get in, but T would have been balancing on a 6-inch wide wall that is right above our stair case. So, if he’d fallen, he’d probably have broken something.  The window is now locked.  The second break in was through the garage, and I bought a new lock that the little fucker won’t be able to jimmy.

I plan to call him over tonight, and we’re going to have a little chat. I think I’ll go with:

1. What the FUCK were you thinking, you moron?
2. No toy on the planet is worth a B & E, you moron.
3. If you ever ask my kid to LIE to me again, you will never be invited back to my home (he is allowed to use our computer sometimes), you moron.
4. How DARE you come into my house when you haven’t been invited, put your step-brother in danger of bodily harm, and then proceed to further disrespect me by trashing my kid’s room? MORON.

Basically, I’m going to make him feel really bad about this. And if that doesn’t work, I’m calling his mom, and he’s going to fess up with both of us in the room.

Telemarketing 101

1.  When your victim answers the phone, a long pause is not advisable.  You only have them by a shoestring, don’t waste what little advantage you have with your “unknown number” on the call display.

2.  Do some background volume control.  “Deafening roar” is not the aesthetic to which one should aspire.

3.  Learn to pronounce some basic last names.  I’m not talking about the difficult ones here.  Fucking up your victim’s last name is pretty much the end of it.

4.  When told that the Mr. in question is not available, don’t ask for any available male over the age of 19 in the household.  Even if he were home, he’s not talking to you.

5.  Stop fucking yelling at your victim.  See # 2.  The roar?  It’s making it hard to hear yourself talk, isn’t it?  Don’t yell to make up for it.

6.  The dinner hour is not the most appropriate calling time.  You’ve been told this before, I’m sure.

7.  When I say no - politely, I might add - please stop asking.  Otherwise, you can just fuck off.