Some people should be muzzled!

On Sunday's we have family dinner at my parent's house. It's a great way to end the weekend. All the grandkids get together and wear each other out. They run and scream and make a mess of my mom's overly clean house. We love it. Most of our kids are more connected to my parents than their other grandparents. In fact, most of the other grandparents are completely crazy.

I don't mean a little nutty and odd, I mean that we could check any of them in to a mental institution at any minute and they'd fit right in. Like my kids other grandmother who never leaves the house except to go to the grocery store and the liquor store and who wears those fuzzy socks with the non-skid bits on the bottom (like the ones you buy for babies) and old lady flesh colored sandals. Nastay! There is also my oldest sister's mother in law who lives in Bev Hills, chases very well known married politicians, and wears tape on her face to make sure she doesn't purse her lips or scowl to avoid wrinkles. (it's not and has never worked. her wrinkles are terrifying.) CRAZIES.

My grandmother shows up at this dinner every Sunday. No fail. It's a free meal. And, she lives in a place where she has now offended every other resident and no one will speak to her, or invite her to do anything. And, really, she does nothing anyway. She stayed with my parents for a few months a few years ago after having heart surgery and left a stain on my mother's sofa. She sat in the same place all day every day watching game shows and The View. From this comfy perch she was able to also view and comment on my mother's cleaning habits, and yell at any and all children who came in to the house for no reason whatsoever. She is, perhaps, the most unhappy and unkind woman on the planet. And, she has spent the last twenty years of her life making sure that everyone around her knew that. She has been beyond offensive to all of the children in my family and my parents my entire life. She has also given us many many reasons to laugh. I know, I'm horrible, but on days when she is especially nasty to us or to our children, it is incredibly gratifying to have her walk out of the house and out to her car with her dress caught way up in her pantyhose. It's mean. I know. But, payback's a bitch. (you can judge me, i'll get over it... i've been tortured by her my whole life)

The purpose of this rant/vent is really to say that I don't understand people who do not know that being cruel to children for any reason is unforgivable. This past Sunday after dinner and in a place out of the earshot of most parents my grandmother cornered my 1o year old niece and asked her why she was so pudgy when all of her cousins were so thin.

My niece is adorably round. She's like a character from Lilo and Stitch. All soft rounded lines. She is a competitive swimmer and an outstanding student and friend. She has noticed her differences and commented on them privately. But, she has a mother that knows exactly how she feels. My little sister, her mother, was just like her. Always a little rounder and rosier than her friends. But as an adult she has always been quite thin and fit. She grew out of her soft edges and so will her daughter.

I have never had patience for my grandmother's lack of tact or feeling. Generally when she pulls this kind of crap with the kids or any of my siblings, I'm the one that tells her that it is not only unkind but inappropriate. I wanted to call her and tell her that she's not allowed to talk to any of these kids of ours unless it is to tell them that they look fabulous, and that they are wonderful and talented and perfect in every way. The kids avoid her. She has never developed a relationship with any of them. It is a very sad thing. They are all remarkable and funny and wonderful in their own way and they totally love each other. Our children deserve so much better.

She's 85 this weekend. Maybe I'll give her one or many of the lovely gifts she's given me throughout the years. Like a bottle of Seabreeze, that hideous smelling astringent that burns the top layer of skin off your face every time you use it. I think she stopped giving those to me when my mom told her that Seabreeze melted our contacts. Or, a crocheted belt made with rainbow colored yarn with glitter in it. Or, a Whitman sampler. You know, the box of toothpaste and rock filled chocolates. Yummy. We often fed them to the cats. Or, on a good year we'd remember to wrap them back up and give them back to her for Mother's Day, Easter, Christmas, and her Birthday. We were horrible children... but wickedly funny.

I didn't call her and tell her what a big huge jerk she was for calling my niece pudgy and making her cry. I was a candyass about it. But, it's highly possible that I'll give her a little shit this weekend. I just need to get in the mood. And, so far, this week has been kind of awesome. Except for work, but who cares about that. And, except for friends having work woes and crappy asshat partners and the like. There's bound to be some big hiccup though. Only gave my asshat half of his ass today. Need to do the rest before the week is out.

Do they make muzzles for people? (and i'm not talking about the s&m ones... in this post anyway)

better villians II

So, tomorrow turned in to the day after the day after the day after tomorrow. It's cool though, no one is really reading this yet so who give s a poop?

It's actually a good thing that I didn't post for a few days because I had a new awesome addition that is totally fitting for the second half of my villains post.

I've been consulting for a company for the last ten months. I stepped in to help them build their brand, tell their story, and help their customers connect with them. It was no easy task. The owners all played creative director here and there. They spent three times what they should have because they would not focus. I should have stepped away as soon as I was finished delivering the brand and marketing strategy. I stayed. Easy money, what can I say. But the last three months have been torture.

One of the owners has turned in to a the micro-manager from the deepest darkest depths of shitty boss hell. He doesn't just follow up on things here and there, he follows up on everything and peppers me and everyone else with texts and calls and emails at all hours of the day and night. Yesterday I was out with my kids and he shot multiple texts at me about something completely trivial. He was annoyed that my answers came several minutes after his questions and he let me know it. I finally just asked him why he didn't have anything better to do with his time because I was out enjoying the beautiful day with my kids and I really had no intention of doing a moment of work on my Saturday. I didn't stop there.

I explained to him in a very strongly worded response that it has been a challenge to work with him because he does not trust others and because he never seems to be busy doing anything productive. He spends a lot of time bouncing from office to office talking to the few of us at the company about what we're doing every day. He sucks up hours of my time discussing things that have nothing to do with him. I believe that he simply does not know how to do what he has to do to make his company a success. This is a brand new company. He believes that running it requires him to be on top of every little teeny tiny detail. Unfortunately, this is the thing that will likely assist in his failure faster than anything else. You must trust the people you hire to do the work you pay them to do. Great managers participate but not in the minutia.

He's kind of an asshat, this guy. He's erratic and unpredictable on his good days. And, on his bad days he just doesn't show. He may be there, but he doesn't do anything. This is the guy who asked if we could change our logo two months in to shipping product. Ummm, dude, the answer is hell no. He demanded that we explore options anyway. Guess what? 25k later we stuck with the original logo. Did I say asshat? It's a way better word than douche. It's funnier. I've called him captain doucheypants for the last several months. But, asshat is my new favorite. I so deserve a better villain. Someone a little more interesting anyway. He bores me.

The last bit of this tale of shitty villains is rather funny. But, beware. It's about sex, the oral kind, and vibrators, and radiation. Read on if you dare...

I am one of many lucky lucky girls that get to spend a good part of her week doing something hideous (besides working with the asshat) to to her body so that maybe she'll get a little more time to work with more asshats. I'm recovering from a little tiny touch of cancer. Not the worst form, but this one's been a bitch from day one. I gained 78 pounds in about three months. It was water. I was pissed. Then I was terrified. Now I'm just sick.

I go to radiation twice a week and take an oral chemotherapy drug once a week. We've already killed most of the little nasties, but there are a few stragglers that need some attention. The radiation is insane. It makes me feel a little insane. I vomit before I go in and then at least a dozen times during the hours after I finish. Having been a former lush in high school and even college the art of the dry heave was perfected long ago. So, it hardly phases me anymore. I'm super thankful for all those boozy parties and how they prepared me for this horrid experience. (kidding).

The very best part of my time at the clinic is the conversation I get to overhear between the two nurses that have been involved in my treatment since day one. These two twenty something girls are hilarious. Not because they're funny. They're not all that funny, but they talk about the craziest shit. The conversation I overheard not too long ago went something like this:

nurse 1: "i have the funniest story to tell you. do you remember how i told you that my husband bought me a vibrator for christmas?"

nurse 2: "yes, and thanks for sharing that again because... gross"

nurse 1: "so we've been trying to figure out how to make things work a little bit better with it because it's been not so fun since the babies and stuff"

nurse 2: "and, again, thanks for sharing" (but she's laughing and clearly they've talked about this stuff before)

nurse 1: "so we were using it last night and were in a very awkward position so that he could get a better view and it got too close to his teeth and hit his two front teeth a few times and chipped them both. like big huge chips."

nurse 2 laughs so hard that she falls off of her stool on to the floor.

Poor nurse 1 deserves a better villain than a tooth chipping vibrator. But, since I've learned that the teeth are fixed and beautiful and the vibrator is a godsend and her husband is a freaky freak in the bedroom. Good for her!

I was so not a candyass yesterday. And, today, I've only been a partial one. I'm not brave all the time. Not as brave as I should be anyway. But tomorrow I'll be extra brave because I have to be done with the asshat. It's exciting. It's my first step toward Honey. That'll be a new chapter. I'll tell you all about it.

Peace out!

i deserve better villians

Today was was an exceptional day on so many levels. I spent a good hour and a half with a couple of terribly smart and funny girls. They made my day. Time like this is rare for me. I crave it - more than chocolate and diet coke.

I met the hilarious and clever Carina a week ago and caught a glimpse of her genius in our brief introduction. She had lunch with my good friend (who should have been my good friend ages ago because I adore her) Melissa and I. And, she's way awesomer and more fabulous than I thought. Any girl who shares my distaste for that Tai Pan Trading place (which I often refer to as that big huge shitshow on 90th) gets a lifetime membership to the cool girl club.

I don't make girlfriends easily, in fact it is nearly impossible. There are just too many twits out there. No, not you, I'm not talking to you... I love you, you're fabulous. I'm talking about her... the one over there. The one that complained to several of my neighbors about my black heels and how I should not wear shoes like that to church because it is in poor taste to flaunt my good fortune when others are losing their homes. Yes, she was referring to my most prized and heavily guarded pair of Christian Louboutin black patent leather peep toe super high heels that scream sex and hotness. They were an ebay find. They were a steal. They are insanely beautiful and it is highly possible that if they were not that cheap I would have traded a kid for them. Don't think I'm kidding. And stop judging me. They're CLs and when you see them on you'll want to cut them right off my feet and run. Promise.

This girl down the street knows enough about shoes to know what that red on the bottom of the shoe means. She made an assumption that I was the kind of girl that would pay the massive amount they charge for these things retail. I am no such girl. I got so lucky. They were never worn. They were a sample pair given to the seller. And, the proceeds went to charity. I paid $85 for them.

Tonight as I pulled in to the house and unloaded the exhausted kids and the target bags and all the crap we gather in a day from my car, this girl walked up my driveway to drop off a note for an activity involving scrapbooking. (a big thumbs down there, i don't do the crafty crap). For some reason I got totally ballsy, the seed was likely planted by the girly conversation at lunch when balls were mentioned a few times, and I called the girl out on the shoe gossip. I wasn't nice about it. I'm tired of being the source of the good neighborhood gossip because of my job, my straightforwardness, my shoes, the way I raise my kids, my dysfunctional and wacky marriage, and my filthy mouth (i make truckers blush). And, she fired back some crap about the fact that I am not aware of the struggle that most face because I am simply not around and don't participate in local church activities often, if ever.

Turns out, it doesn't really have much to do with the fact that I have a couple of pairs of fancy shoes to go along with my Nordy Rack super cheapo finds and my favorites from Target, or that I work full time, or anything else I thought it was. It is simply about my lack of activity in church. The parting comment was about my poor children and how sad it is to see them at church without their mother every week. I let her get the dig in. And I let her walk away feeling triumphant. Then yelling from behind me went something like "that was not very nice, and you don't get to talk about my mom or act like you're better than her when you have never done anything to try to be nice to her like when she had ... CANCER." My 9 year old scolded the hell out of that prissy priss. My beautiful non-confrontational oldest daughter has big ass balls!

The line from Whip It came to mind as Abby replayed the whole incident over the phone to her best friend. "We deserve better villains." I don't like arguments. I could have just let it go, but it was getting weird for my kids and my sisters who both live in the neighborhood. It had to end.

Other things I tackled with my big balls today:

That piece of shit toilet in the guest bathroom that plugs up with a single ply sheet of toilet paper. It's been like that for about six months. I hate that toilet. It was clogged again. So, instead of using the plunger that has not really ever worked well, I went to home depot and got the biggest badass of the plungers. And, I extracted 4 matchbox cars and one giant duplo block from the toilet. All better.

Big balls are boss. And, I'm not really a candyass today. But, some days I am. And, tomorrow I'll tell you a little more about how much of a candyass I'm not.