Never trust a Seared Tuna...

  I’ve spent the last 2 days convincing myself that I in fact DID NOT drink too much at my Christmas party on the weekend. It had to be the fancy uncooked Tuna or the smoked salmon that came in a fancy little boat shaped bowl. Ya, it had to be that. I was so careful…so controlled. I only had 2 drinks. Yes, they were in a very large ‘Red Solo’ cup but I only had 2! And when those JELL-O shots came around, I only took 1. Then the Sean Penn look alike dude handed me a Vodka shot…well…What was I supposed to do!?! It was Sean Penn! He could have been handing me turpentine and I would have drank it. I’m convinced people thought I was swaying to the music and not desperately trying to stay on my feet. It has to be food poisoning! I remember looking up into my boyfriend’s eyes and saying ‘oh no…. oh no… How did this happen"? I was so dizzy. Are my eyes crossing? ABORT! ABORT! We needed to get the hell out of here and quick.

We said our goodbyes, quickly and headed out the front door. He held my hand tightly, he didn’t have a choice, I would have fallen off the curb. Is he giggling? He’s giggling. Now he is talking to me like I’m fragile. “Did you have a good time baby”? More giggling. "Screw you! I didn’t drink too much, it was the seared Tuna!!!

We arrived at our car. It was like a mirage in the distance and I couldn’t wait to crawl in. Finally, we are on our way home!  I crack open the window a little and let the cool breeze brush across my face.
Whoa!! Are we in a street race??!! Are we dragging?? I have zero control on my neck. I’m a bobble head. He literally cannot stop giggling. He’s enjoying this way too much.

I get home and flop into bed. I need this night to end. I lay there while thoughts of the night play through my mind. Omg…I bet I was roofied! By Sean Penn!!! I can’t wait to tell my friends!  Now I’m definitely dreaming. Maybe even delirious. Go to sleep. Just leave your eyes slightly cracked open so the room stops spinning….and keep both feet on the floor. Do you have any idea what that looks like? Stop, don’t picture it, it’s not pretty.

I wake up the next morning and I’ve definitely been poisoned…by myself. Did I think I was 19 again? Jell-O shots? I’m such a Fool.

Merry FRIGGIN Christmas...

2 years ago... my Children announced to me that I was "killin' their Christmas vibe". That I had supposedly stated a few times that "I hate Christmas"...to be honest I thought I was just saying it in my head but it's been confirmed over and over again that it was out loud. I actually felt really bad, these poor kids haven't had an easy life and here's old crotchety Mama Scrooge putting a damper on their spirits. Soooo, last year I really rolled in sugar for them. I decorated the house and put those tacky little red velvet bows on every single surface that would hold them. I played Christmas Carols and kept announcing " I Love Christmas"! Listen, they knew I was full of shit but they didn't care. They got to have spunky Mama instead of the one they had the Christmas before.

So here we are, approaching yet another beautiful Christmas Season and I have decorated and even done some shopping. I hate Christmas!!!! I bloody well despise it!!!! There I said it.

I have realized something huge in all this and maybe where all of this comes from.{Insert depressing paragraph here} I was in a very abusive marriage for 15 years. Once I left, It took me a hell of a lot of therapy and lots of frontal-lobe pills to get me through and back from the dark side. I was alone raising my kids and lived on VERY little money. For almost 10 years I juggled money from one bank account to the other and used every trick and all the budgeting advice I could find to just get through. Every single day was a struggle. So this my friends was what turned me off of Old St Nick. The fact that I could never afford to buy my kids presents or buy things for my family and friends who helped me out in every way they could was crippling. It was the worst feeling I have ever experienced in my life. The truth is, the pills and the therapy helped me get past the abuse but the after effects of the struggle and fear of losing everything has never gone away. My financial situation has improved drastically yet I think about money and worry about it on a daily basis. So when Christmas rolls around so does my anxiety.
If I had a pile of money in the bank and I could get my kids everything they wanted...then I could enjoy it and not worry about having to choose between my car payment and heat for the feeling I get when I watch my kids unwrap their gifts.

That paragraph made me want to curl up in the fetal position and moan softly to myself...

This year, my boyfriend and I finally agreed to 'No gift exchange' between the two of us. Thank the Lord! Can I get an Amen?...He is the most giving man I have ever met. His gifts to me are always so extravagant and expensive and I can NEVER...EVER come close to being equal with him in the gift-giving sense. I buy him a 25$ Tim Horton's gift card and mug? And he buys me a 500$ lens for my camera as a stocking stuffer. KILL ME. Anyhooo, That's done, he agreed...no gifts. Why do I feel like he will get to me through my kids? Well, less than 2 weeks until Christmas and I will have to wait and see.

Happy Holidays Ya Filthy Animals...

My Bully is a 17 year old Girl...

I’m sure there are rules to blogging. Introduce yourself, give them a little info on yourself then work your way up to full fledge ranting. But I’m going to skip forward and tell you about my Bully. Ya Ya…I have a bully and I think she is 17.

 I will give you a moment to stop giggling.

I work in a student center where students come in to study or use the computers to do work. I love my job and I love the students. I’m that lady that buys chocolates and leaves them in a bowl on my desk to treat them.

It was these chocolates that unveiled my Bully to me. The bowl was empty and I hadn’t found the time to fill it up with the extras I have in my desk drawer.

So in walks “MeanGirls3” (that’s what I’ve named her) or MG3. Anyways…MG3 saunters up to my desk and says “Where’s the chocolate”? My response: “ Hunh?” (Mouth open and wide eyed). “Where’s the chocolate”? So, this is where you imagine that I correct this young lady and tell her that she is not being very respectful and that it’s no way to speak to someone and maybe even that those chocolates are a treat and not something to take for granted! Nope… while my mouth remained a gaping hole, I slowly reached into my drawer and retrieved the bag of candy and handed it to her like I was handing my lunch money to Biff. She then began to stuff her pockets with the chocolate. I was in shock! Ya…that’s why I didn’t speak up…I was in shock! So I shakily find my voice and say” Are you stocking up for the winter”? And MG3 answers “No…I just don’t want to spend my money on chocolate”. And so I….yup…said nothing. God Dammit! Next time she comes in, I’m going to show her who is boss and who runs this Centre!
But I don’t…because if I did then I wouldn’t be blogging about my Bully, right?

Incident numero deux (that’s French for 2): I have signs on all the computers that say NO FOOD NO DRINKS near the computers! Every time she gets up and leaves, there are enough crumbs left on her chair to feed a small village. Oooooooh, it makes me furious because I never actually see her eating because she’s a sneaky little bugger. One day I hear this thump over at her work station and then she stands up and says “Where’s your Kleenex”? So I point to it even though I wanted to say “Get your own damn Kleenex”! Nope…insert image of my chubby little index finger pointing to my Kleenex box on the shelf, which I might add were the ones with Lotion in them! I asked her what she spilled and she told me not to stress-Grrrr- it was just a bit of water. So after she emptied my entire box of Kleenex I got the courage to say “Just a bit of water”? And she then held her finger to her lips and shushed me. Now anyone reading this just imagined what happens when we get shushed. Your head starts to slowly do a full 360 degree rotation and then we black out. I said nothing. I grow weaker by the day.

To be continued….

This is cheaper than Therapy!

I figure that instead of sitting at my desk having full blown arguments with myself on how I have allowed my life to unfold...I would start a blog. I can't find the time to pee during the course of the day but I figure that my mental state is much more important than the health of my kidneys and bladder. When they give out, I always have the option of adult diapers...but if I don't tame the beast that has been let loose in my mind, it won't matter whether or not I pee myself.

So How do I write up a little ditty on me? How do I let you see the trailer of my life thus far? Hmmm...well...I'm 43, I have 3 kids and a boyfriend (of 6 years) I work full time at a college and do photography on the side. Mmmmm...sounds so yummy and vanilla, right? {Insert the sound of the screeching of a needle scraping across a vinyl} Not so much...therefore my need to Blog.

If any of you have ever seen the show ally mcbeal ... you will have an idea of what it's like to live inside my head. I always refer to myself as being mute...blocked...scared to speak. It's horrible. But you know what would be even more 'Horrible'? If the flood gates opened and everything in there came out uncontrolled...hahaha...the thought of it makes me chuckle. It would be a "shit storm".

I will be honest with you, I have no idea what I am doing. I have seen blogs and followed them/subscribed to them and they usually consist of how to decorate for the holidays or how to make scrumptious cupcakes that will piss off the other class Mom's but I don't know if this type of thing is the norm. I guess we'll see.

Thanks for listening...sorry in advance for sucking the life out of you and your welcome in advance if I helped you in any way to realize you are not alone.