Sunday, February 11, 2007

Brain dump - part deux.

I have decided that I need to start carrying around like a notebook with me. Almost a diary of sorts because as I go about my day, I think of a shitten ton of things I want to write about, vent about, bitch about and share with you, the internets, but when I go to sit and put fingers to keys and compose a post, I draw a blank and end up just blathering on about my day (which, let's face it, is normally pretty damn boring) or showing pictures of my furry children. While I can look at pictures of my pets all damn day and be nothing short of amused, I imagine you all would prefer something a tad more mind provoking than the Pooper dragging his ass on the carpet (he has GOT to stop doing that) or Reba putting her cat ass on my sweater. Am I right? Can I get an amen please?

I finally got an email today from the girl I call my best friend. Truth be told, if we go by most people's definitions of best friends, mine would be either the hubs or my cousin, Jen. However, Wendy and I have been friends since 10th grade and while I doubt she considers me her best friend, I plan to keep the friend hierarchy as is for now. Anyway, I was a tad put out because she has always been rather close to my dad and despite several emails and a couple phone calls, I had not heard a thing from her. Not even a quick "How is the Dad?" dash off email. Well, today I realized why. You see, this is gonna come as a shock to you all but I can be a little self involved. I'll wait while you gasp and clutch your chests in utter disbelief.

Done?

Mmmkay.

So I completely forgot that her sister was pregnant and due to give birth in a month or so. Last I had heard there was a chance the baby had some of the indicators of Down's Syndrome. It was not conclusive evidence, so they were hoping for the best. Turns out that Julie gave birth a month early and it looks as though Down's is not a problem but of course with the early birth, there presents a whole host of other problems. Premies tend to have problems with lung development for months, if not years. She is a wee little thing weighing less than 5 pounds and Wendy has called her Thumbelina. We both do that - the whole nicknaming of everything. So little Ashley/Thumbelina is okay but has a long road ahead. Poor little chick.

Work has been okay but I have had some computer issues and it has slowed me down considerably. While waiting for stuff to download or send, I end up surfing the net and then I get distracted by some story about how inane Bush is or I start shopping for a new purse and then 15-20 minutes has gone by, the report has BEEN sent for a while now and I am still sitting there. Consequently, my production this week sucked donkey dicks. Big ones. No bueno, girls. I got bills to pay. Purses to buy. Kohls trips to make. Sperm channels to reconnect. Think productive thoughts for me, would ya? Without cash, I don't get sperminated and a license to eat lots and be bitchy - unlike now when I am the epitome of slim and mannered. Shut it.

So I am driving down the street last night to go assist my girl, Karen, in chaperoning a middle school dance - more on that in a second and the phone rings. I assume it is the hubs because I generally force him to keep me entertained on the road, but it is a number I don't recognize. I am way too curious (read: nosy) a person to allow a call to go to voice mail so I answer. It's Mrs. DallasK to tell me two things - (a) I don't have an accent and (b) She was a wee bit lit up as she and Football Widow were on their way to go see a flick. That girl is too funny.

So the dance. Let me tell you something about me. I live across the river from New Orleans and Metairie, which is the largest suburb of New Orleans. I detest Metairie. It is traffic and giant SUVs and non blinker using soccer moms that can barely function doing one thing at a time yet try to do 14 things while driving and talking on their phones. Metairie makes my toofers ache, y'all. What do I hate more than Metairie?

Mardi Gras. Can you even imagine how I feel about Mardi Gras IN Metairie? Oh yeah. Big fun for SFG. It never even registered that it was the first night of parades when I agreed to drive my ass across the river (hate that as well) and chaperone a couple hundred middle school children while they dance to songs that they think are new (i.e. Take my Breath Away and I Love Rock n Roll) and generally take the first steps to becoming future pole dancers. The most startling thing about most of these young girls was how able they were to walk in what can only be described as stripper shoes. (Hint: If any single part of your shoe is see through, and this includes the heel, they are stripper shoes.) These tiny little chicks, who I was pleased to note dressed fairly modestly compared to what I am used to seeing at the mall, all strode across that gym in 3 and 4 inch heels like it was nobody's business. I would have busted my ass at 13. Shit, I'd barely make it 3 steps now, bitches. Not these girls. These girls got skeeeels, ya heard? It is only a matter of time before me and Karen see them on a drunken night in the Quarter coming down a pole head first only using their legs using the dancing name of "Tasty." Not that I know anything about that, of course.

Ahem.

So anyway, after the dance which lasted a total of two hours and from which I am still partially deaf, everyone and according to Karen's daughter, Karlene, EVERYONE was going to Cafe du Monde up the road to have beignets and coffee or hot chocolate. So off we went. We are nothing if not good sports. So we took Karlene and let her go in and hang with her friends. In a show of not cramping her style combined with the vain attempt of not being around any more 13 year olds, we went through the drive through, got our drinks and waited for Karlene to get tired which we knew would not take long because unlike the future Tasty's of the world, Karlene is a very tame girl and has a low threshold for excitement. We figured she had 20-30 minutes before she lapsed into a coma. Thank uppercase God she is a good kid. I was home a little before 11. Children, I have come to realize, annoy me. Most children anyway. I am quite thankful that my friends children have all amused me in some way, so the annoyance factor has never affected my relationship with my friends' kids, but other people's children? Yeah, they are no bueno. Loud, demanding little fucks is what I see. I am well on my way to being a stellar mother. No doubt.

So tomorrow, it is early mass and then back across the river (this is twice in 3 days if you are keeping track) to go walking with Karen at the park. I believe I will be bringing the Pooper with me and from there, we shall make the trek out to the beach in order for him to get some quality time with brackish water and to take a dump in the Gulf. It is not common knowledge but that is a damn good time in dog world. This is why he allows me to annoy him in the ways I have demonstrated on here and put clothes on him that any self respecting animal would have ripped my throat out for already. He is surely biding his time and will take me down in my sleep one night.

I think my brain is finally empty. I can now finish watching this movie, When A Stranger Calls (only my 15th time watching it), and get some much needed shut eye. Have a fab weekend.

Labels: Brain dump, Friends, Random, The Pooper, Weekend, Work

Elizabeth at 12:48 AM

7comments

7 Comments

at 1:53 PM Anonymous said...: I got fam in Metairie and they aren't liking the way it's growing.

Ah yes...school dances. My cousin has a 15 year old and she's even stated that they dress like strippers and she can't believe some of the mothers would let their daughters go out like that.
at 4:40 PM Tammy said...: Damn. I'm tired now.

Lets see - where to start. . . .

Hope the little girl is ok. By the Grace of God, go I.

I hate other people's kids too (except my friends, of course) they annoy the shit out of me.

Mrs. DallasK cracks my shit right up.
at 5:33 PM Kami said...: Yes, strange kids are nooooo fun.
at 5:36 PM Pissy Britches said...: hey my biatch...i want some beingnets=YUMMY
at 8:33 PM Kat said...: If Pooper is dragging his booty around non-stop it could mean he needs his anal glands 'expressed' (squeezed to get out some weird dog thing - fairly common. :P)

Aw, poor baby girl, hope all goes well and she is big and strong soon!

HA about the dance, I remember teeter-tottering around at dances way back when trying not to bust my ass in normal heels, heck, I'd practice walking them for weeks leading up to the dance!
at 9:36 PM Cara said...: Carrie's right about the butt-scooting thing. I used to have a Malamute and she did the same thing. We had never heard of such a thing and the glands ended up abcessing. It was like an ass explosion. Couple hundred bucks at the vets = no bueno indeed.

Hold up. There's a Cafe Du Monde that has a drive through? That just doesn't seem right.
at 9:43 AM Monogram Queen said...: I love Thumbelina's nickname too. I was a preemie, 6 mos and weighed 1 lb 14 ozs. Best of luck to her!

Reilly has trouble w/ the anal glands also. They are supposed to expel them when he goes to the groomers also but I have my doubts as he scoots quite frequently.

Love your brain dumps!