<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d10984815\x26blogName\x3dTwisted+life\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLUE\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://twistedlifeofmine.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://twistedlifeofmine.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-5422402003551832537', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe", messageHandlersFilter: gapi.iframes.CROSS_ORIGIN_IFRAMES_FILTER, messageHandlers: { 'blogger-ping': function() {} } }); } }); </script>

Friday, November 25, 2005

Post-Fat Ass Update

Jesus God, I am still full and tired. For those of you who have done the whole "let's have every damn soul to my home for Thanksgiving" and then cooked for the ungrateful little bastards, my hat is off to you. I just had no earthly idea what all that entailed. My menu was far from complicated: chicken and sausage gumbo, fried turkey, roasted potatoes, peas, corn, rolls and for desert, apple pie and pumpkin pie. I also did a spinach and artichoke dip for nibbling while waiting for grub. I mean the turkey part was not even my job. The husband fries the 3 turkeys we had. So why am I so damn tired? Who the fuck knows? I just don't know how women do this shit. Oh, we had stuffing too. Forgot that part.

I have no pictures with which to participate in Stuffed Portrait Friday because in the melee that was my day, it never once occurred to me to take pictures of the chaos. I had a total of 15 people invited over. 17 showed. I fucking freaked. My step-sister-in-law brought her friend and I about shit. Then the step daughter brought her boyfriend and I once again about shit. We had more than enough food but we had the tables already filled to the gills and stuffing two more bodies in there made me nervous. Let me begin at the beginning. I cooked and baked literally all day Wednesday. The only room I cleaned was the kitchen. I got up at 6 Thursday and went back to the cleaning before putting on the gumbo. Everything was going well. Our friends showed up first with their three children. Still - no problems. Husband's brother-in-law came on over. Still, all is well. Then FIL and MIL came over. As previously posted ad nauseum, I have had issues with my MIL. I have not mentioned it but the FIL is not doing well physically - mainly due to his own stubbornness. It was iffy to expect them at all, but they showed. She came in slippers. SLIPPERS, people. What the fuck is that? I mean, I was by no means dressed up and probably had flour coating my shirt but I did manage to put a bra and shoes on. For the love of GOD. Then they don't eat. Um, ok. I knew FIL could not eat because the pain he is currently experiencing is making him nauseous. No biggie. However, MIL who made such a giant fuss over the fried turkey and how she had to have some, came over and never ate. Then tells me on the way out the door that they really only eat dark meat and they had that elsewhere. ARE. YOU. FUCKING. KIDDING. ME? Why the FUCK am I doing all this shit? Here is a note to you male readers of my blog (if there are any) women take this shit seriously, ok? I know I sound a tad overwrought but that is the epitome of rude. You come to my house without ever telling me that chances are you will not be eating and then literally leave after like an HOUR. I was HOT. Raging case of chapped red ass over in these here parts. Then enter the ingrateful step-children complete with boyfriend. First off, let's go through an etiquette lesson. When you enter your father's home, is it only polite to speak to the step-bitch in the kitchen who is slaving her fucking ass off since you walked into HER house to eat HER food? The answer is YES. How about "Hi, how are you? How are things? What's going on with you?" Well, fuck no. The step-daughter said a total of 10 words. I got a total of 3 from the step-son and that was only because he was literally forced to speak to me upon leaving since he literally crossed my path. Thank God I am not forced to bite my tongue until December 21 when these same ingrates are forced to go with us to see my father and step-mother. Perhaps once they see me and my step-mom who, hold your britches people, I actually LIKE and RESPECT. Holy fucking shit. What was that, you might say? Yes, I like her. She and I absolutely had a battle of wills at various times in my upbringing but she makes my Dad ridiculously happy and she has been good to me. Plus, and this is probably a biggie, my mother did not bad mouth the fuck out of her to me. Wait, an ex-wife who acted maturely and responsibly for her child's sake???? I know, I am just blowin' the roof off the joint today. Let the record show this - I will put up with a lot from these kids because they are my husband's children and despite their utter rudeness, he loves them, as he should. However, if they go and treat my family and close friends with the same utter disregard with which they have doused liberally over me, the wrath of hell that will come upon them will be UGLY. So if there is an online news story from Phoenix, AZ about a girl who says "fuck" a lot slapping the living shit out of two teenagers, y'all can say you knew me when.

OK, enough with the bitter. Last night, I was just so freaking done that my husband - lovely man that he can be - rubbed my feeties. Yep, him did. It felt so freaking good. Hard ceramic tile under my tender feets for two solid days = mega pain. He was just as tired as me but he did it anyway. I suppose he might love me. Slightly. Until I burp or fart.

Today I got up and really kicked back. I left the house only to bring things over to the husband who is working and to run to the bank. Then I came home and did a lot of work on the computer (because it required very little movement) and listened to the LSU game. I figured if the husband rubbed my feet, I could at least try to give a shit about his team. It's the least a wife could do, no??? I, therefore, have the house to myself tonight. Very peaceful. Have the candles burning, the tv on the Ghost Whisperer starring Wonder Tits and plan to sit and watch a movie later. Fucking wild ass woman - that's me. Tomorrow I may go to Target to check out the sales because it was so not happening today. I have done the shopping thing after Thanksgiving a couple times and just could not see it happening today.

I am thankful for many things. First and foremost, of course, the fact that my family and I made it through Hurricane Bitch and Hurricane Bitch, Part Deux relatively unscathed. I am thankful for my family scattered all over the country who took very good care of us when we needed it. I am grateful for the husband even though I don't always show it. I am so very very very thankful that he is supporting my efforts to work at home because the very idea of going back to an office gives me a tic. I am grateful that despite their ripening ages, my parents are still well and happy. I am grateful that my friends are there for me when I need them most. I am grateful that despite being so tempted on so many occasion to rip into those children, I have not said a word to them about what they have done to me and their father because I know somewhere deep down that the only person who would get hurt in that is the husband. It's just not worth it. I am very happy to have my pets. They provide me with so much laughter, stress and pain, but are worth every moment of me fussing at them. I am also grateful that the blog world has been incredibly kind to me - sometimes with comments, sometimes with laughter, and what blew me away most, with so much support (financial and emotional) after the hurricane. Y'all do not even know me (in the typical sense) and yet did not even hesitate to extend yourselves. That is unreal. Truly. I thank you all. I hope your holidays were as wonderful as y'all are. :)

Elizabeth at 8:00 PM

8comments

8 Comments

at 9:13 PM Blogger Tammy said...

Damn girl, you are my hero!

 
at 10:44 PM Blogger Melanie said...

17. Freaking 17? I would be exhausted too. Especially if one of them was in slippers and didn't eat. Glad you got your foot rub. You deserve it!

 
at 1:20 AM Blogger Unknown said...

Far from complicated? Damn! You had more stuff that the resturaunt buffet where I purchased T-day dinner for mother and took it to her! No wonder you’re too tired to fuck—I mean, so fuckin’ tired!

I am a male reader of your blog and I know you take this shit seriously and I used to until I became a bachelor again and attempted to do a Thanksgiving meal for 6—only 6—by myself. Now I go to restaurants! (I do miss the left over turkey, however

I glad you spent a relaxing day today—I mean Friday. I did, too, happily avoiding the idiots in their shopping frenzy.

 
at 10:53 AM Blogger Kami said...

Slippers? Tell me you're making that shit up, please. OMG. WTF? And why the fuck didn't she eat? OMG. My MIL was/is a total bitch, too. UGH! WTF? I'm thinking of sending them all up the river, and doing this shit solo from now on.

 
at 4:22 PM Anonymous Anonymous said...

You can come to my house next year. You may want to run and hide with all the chaos, but at least I'd be nice to you. (I ran and hid this year from my house, the kids and I stayed with Phil this whole long weekend...can you say: ahhhhh)

I'd be honored to have you as a step mom to my kids. These kids dont know what they're missing. Hopefully they'll grow up soon and realize that.

 
at 6:12 PM Blogger MsPerdie said...

Glad everything worked out OK! Happy Turkey Day!

 
at 9:44 AM Blogger Pissy Britches said...

Holy fuck.
What a day that was.
And with the step kids..keep your mouth shut. Believe me...it isn't worth it.
Not one fucking bit.

 
at 10:11 AM Blogger MsKnow said...

I live in Phoenix. I'll be checking the news daily from the 21st on!

 

Post a Comment