Bet You Weren't Expecting Me...

Miss me?  Damn right, you did!

In my hiatus, I have:

• ·         survived my husband’s deployment (I use the term “survived” EXTREMELY liberal, of course.)
• ·         gotten a full time job at a home improvement establishment (currently, I am slinging appliances.)
• ·         stepped down as leader of my daughter’s Girl Scout troop (my baby girl is growing up, *sniffle*.)
• ·         and also, managed to forgive a few people who didn’t deserve my forgiveness (however, I deserved the freedom from the hate stewing inside of me.)

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Now that I got you all caught up, we can proceed to my regularly scheduled shenanigans…

Oh, how I miss the days I was a lady of leisure.  Recently, I was sick with strep throat and remembered (between my fevered bouts of delirium) how much I missed being home.  Today was my first day back to work in nearly a week.  While I enjoy the people I work with and the work that I do, I sometimes want to tell the general public to suck an egg.

Anyone out there that has ever worked with the public, especially in retail, knows EXACTLY what I mean.  Some people can be so awful.  You are probably thinking I am referring to those folks that yell and scream.  While I consider those people to be rather difficult, the breed of customer I loathe the most would have to be the ones who have no regard for a retail worker as a human being…mainly the ones that talk over you.  I HATE that!

Last week, this middle age couple came in.  I hereby dub them Mr. & Mrs. Magoo.  I greeted them like I would any customer and asked if I could help them.  They said they had some questions about a particular dishwasher.  

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Mr. Magoo asked questions about every single possible detail of the appliance.  “Ummm, yeah…are the screws that bolt the handle galvanized stainless steel?  Who invented the first dishwasher?  What is your mother’s maiden name???”  Of course, I knew the answers (and even if I didn’t I can sure as hell make it sound like I do, *wink wink*).  So I proceed to answer and as I get a few words into my response to Mr. Magoo’s extensive shake-down, the ever so lovely Mrs.Magoo interrupts me to ask me her own questions WHICH SHE ALSO ANSWERS!!!  Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs. Magoo, would you like me to go away so you can sell your own appliance to yourself.  Shit people!  Why didn’t you just order it online??

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It’s no secret that I attract crazy people.  I don’t know if I make them feel at ease or maybe they are just attracted to their own kind.  I can deal with crazy.  I find it entertaining but, rude is beyond my scope of tolerance. 

Today, I had the pleasure of dealing with this woman who needed help with a washer.  For the life of me, I cannot understand why someone would ask you a question and then try to convince you that you are wrong.  Standing in front of two washers, she asks me which one has a larger capacity.  I show her which one is bigger (seriously, by .1 cubic foot) and she proceeds to disagree with me.  She says, “Look in here.  This one is bigger.”  I try to contain my annoyance and try to explain to her that it is not even a cubic foot difference.  She continues to insist that I look inside the tub.  At this point, I felt that I needed to humor her in order to move along in the sale so I agree that it looks larger by telling her that that the tub is wider but more shallow.  It seemed logical.

Dealing with her was the least of the problem.  Shortly after, her friend walked up. 

Guys, her friend knew everything about everything!  In hindsight, I should have asked for the secret to universe.  I’m serious!  Anything that the customer would ask me, the friend would chime in with her own two cents.  Once again, I hate to be interrupted but, more so, I hate to be interrupted with inaccurate information.  I just don’t have the patience to deal with the Kanyes of the world today or anyday for that matter.

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This rambling is done for now.  When you are out and about consuming and contributing to the economy, please remember that the guy mixing your paint, the girl behind the cash register, the lady taking your order, and the man working the customer service desk are fucking human beings.  Treat them as such.  If you can’t go into an establishment and show basic common courtesy, do us a favor and stay home and order your shit online.

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I Lost My Boarding Pass

My agnostic mind, although relieved the rapture did not transpire, was intrigued to say the least of the miniscule possibility of people “disappearing”.  Last night, I laid awake thinking about how awful it would be since my husband was on the other side of the planet. How would he get to us?


To say I have an over-active imagination would be an understatement. My mind journeyed through scenario after scenario. I’m the queen of the “what ifs”. Sometimes I wonder why I haven’t locked myself in a closet somewhere.


I called my mother and basically said, “Look. Although I think this is a crock of shit, I wanted to tell you good-bye… just in case I’m wrong.” As an agnostic, I do not claim to know what others are sure about.

As I said, I laid in bed thinking about how things would play out. I thought about if this god decided to take his flock and leave behind the rest of us how angry I would be if he didn’t take my children. What an asshole that would make him to punish the innocent because of my choices and beliefs…or lack thereof.

Also, I wondered what would happen to society. Would we crumble? Obviously something as major as the rapture would change life as we know it. That’s a no brainer but would civilization itself fail to exist? Would we live in a state of post “apocalyptica”…all because some “sheep” disappeared?

Then…of course…my brain turned to zombies. Shocking, right? Me? Zombies?

I thought about if just the souls of the “sheep” were raptured what exactly would be left behind? Lifeless bodies? Rotting corpses? Would these “souls” merely be the thing that makes us human in the first place? Would the rapture of these souls leave behind the living dead, violent…without any remorse? After all if those of us left behind are to be punished and tormented until the grand finale of existence than that would sure be how I’d fuck with folks if I was this god people are so set on selling their souls to.

That’s another thing…the concept of being “left behind” is ludicrous to me. Why would a god after mercilessly torturing his strayed flock allow them to still “accept Jesus as their Lord and Savior” to avoid eternal damnation? Does that sound stupid to anyone else? I mean, holy fuck! Who in their right mind would choose NOT to believe at that point?????? So, in other words…regardless of how you live this life post rapture you still get to go to heaven. You may just need to deal with a few minor setbacks like some plagues and shit.

Now some people are demanding a public apology from a one Harold Camping who started this rapture nonsense. I guess I’d feel the same way if I shared similar beliefs.  If I was a believer…especially if I was one of his followers I’d be pissed. Some people took this nonsense as gospel. As with anything, you’ve got your coo coo banana heads that take a small slice of crazy pie and turn it into a whole freaking bakery like this loco broad.



I leave you with this. It seems appropriate.



And if you would be so kind as to show me a little love that would be superb.

Socially Awkward or Just Antisocial?

Most of my life has been spent feeling like some sort of outcast. Being an adult, not much has changed. I'd like to say I don’t care as much anymore but moving away from family and friends in New Orleans is starting to take its toll on me especially since the husband is away.


I have ZERO friends here. It’s my own fault since I automatically assume people will not like me once they get to know me. Let’s face it I’m a weirdo and even though I embrace it most other people do not. However, I wonder at times if I’m just an asshole. On top of making the assumption that most people will not accept me, I also tend to avoid the people who seem accepting of me because I conclude they are just bat shit crazy.

My best friend can’t understand how I can go so long cutting myself off from the world. She says I’m doing an injustice to the potential friends around me by not letting anyone in. The truth is I’m lazy. Making new friends is time consuming and has left me disappointed so many times that I don’t even want to try anymore.

Today I took my daughter to a friend from school’s birthday party. I met a few other parents who were nice but… (You knew there would be a “but” right?)  I don’t want to say they were Stepford but I got the whole sorority sister vibe from them which automatically made me feel like everything that came out of my mouth was being judged. What’s sad is I KNOW it is all in my head and I KNOW I miss out on making friends this way.  Also, when I think about it, it sort of makes me come off as thinking everything is about me.  (It is, right?)  There's my Leo showing.

Mother fucker! I swear I must need therapy.

I find myself thinking of that Adam Sandler bit..."Oh, Mom!"



Also, this...



What makes things worse is since I’m a parent; I’m always worried that my own social awkwardness is going to affect my children in some way or another. I’m the mom that cusses like a sailor. I’m the mom that not only doesn’t go to church but is agnostic (but may as well be atheist…oooo, PROJECT). I’m the mom that isn’t skinny and doesn’t wear make-up every day. I’m the mom that is inappropriate and is constantly cracking jokes. I’m the mom with the pierced tongue. And these things, my internet buddies, are the things that I allow them to see.

What would they say if they knew I go through at least a fifth of Bacardi almost every weekend by myself? How about if they knew I LOVE to play Rockband and even more so when I’m drunk? What if they knew that Rockband usually leads to drunken karaoke in the garage while smoking Black & Milds?

I’ll admit. I’m envious of the people that seem to make friends easily. I feel I am incapable of juggling many friends. I’m not looking to fill an address book with acquaintances. I would just like to make one or two friends around here I can let loose with from time to time. I’m smart enough to know I am my own worst enemy here.

::shake my head:: I am a sad, sad spectacle sometimes but I’m always prepared to laugh at my own faults.

Friendships Wanted, Not Needed

Six months I've been here and I'm convinced no matter where you move people are either crazy or boring or both.  Making friends has never come easy to me...maybe I'm a snob.  If I think someone is a bore and/or a lunatic, I will go out of my way to keep my distance.  For some reason though, these people are drawn to me like bums to bus terminals.
It doesn't matter where I am, the check out line at the grocery store, the gas pump, or an airport bathroom, these individuals will talk to me and divulge the craziest things to me.  At first, this entertained me.  I felt complimented in a sense that I must put these people at ease in a way that they feel comfortable telling me about their issues.
Let me interject here.  When I say "crazy", I do not mean someone diagnosed with mental disorders.  At least when these people do something out of the ordinary, you can empathize.  No, I'm talking about these folks that seem to eat, sleep, and breathe drama.  I'm referring to those people that seem to go out of their way to invent problems just so they have something to entertain themselves.  To these people I say, find another hobby!!
Anyway...
For a long time (probably the first twenty or so years of my life), I didn't have any rules or regulations for a person to be my friend other than you couldn't be a total asshole.  I would talk and befriend anyone and it would remain that way until they did something to piss me off.  As time went on and my family and I relocated to Fort Hood, these lackadaisical stipulations proved to be more time consuming than previously anticipated. 
With deployments and loneliness running rampant throughout the base, spouses clung to different forms of companionship.  I chose the safe, platonic route.  At first, it was nice to have the company of other women.  I felt a bond with them due to our similar circumstances.  Little did I know the drama that would surround many of these females like the dust cloud that hovers around Pigpen from Peanuts comics.  Like I said, at first this entertained me.  It was like watching an episode of Jerry Springer or Maury Povich pan out right before your very eyes.  I wanted to grab a bowl of popcorn and sit back and enjoy the show.  That was until these loonies began including me in the craziness.  It was at that time I had to step back, take a deep breath, and say "Fuck. This."
After the military, we headed back to our hometown in New Orleans area on the good ol' Westbank which by the way was only supposed to be temporary.  It, unfortunately, turned into nearly two years.  During that time I stuck to the handful of people I knew who where a.) not boring, b.) not crazy, and c.) trustworthy.  Seriously when I say handful, I literally mean like five people, nearly half of which were family members.
On more than one occasion people would tell me how they didn't understand how I could cut myself off from others so easily.  I don't really see the problem.  Why should I befriend people who I don't really enjoy being around?  What?  Just so I can say I have oodles of friends??
Now we are in Oklahoma and I must admit I am a little lonely.  However, I'm not lonely enough to resort to being bored to death just for the sake of company.  I also will not participate in their drama just to be entertained...they have reality shows for that.   Also, I can't stand liars.  Furthermore while I believe fully in freedom of religion, I cannot be around someone who feels the need to "save" me.  I must be able to be myself 100% and the truth is I curse like a drill sergeant and I am completely random ESPECIALLY after a few drinks which I look forward to consuming at least one a week if not (and hopefully) more.
As you can see, I do think it's wise to have a hobby.  Everyone needs something to occupy their time.  So as for me, I'm going to blog my own thoughts and try to avoid falling into the same old habits.  Truth is, loneliness is a bitch and as much as I'd love to move into a cave somewhere, we both know it isn't going to happen.  So in the meantime, I'll keep my fingers crossed that one of these days in my trek around Texhoma, I'll actually come in contact with someone that can hold an intelligent conversation with me that doesn't involve gossip and rumors.  I won't hold my breath though.