Mar
25
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.
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.
3 comments:
Girl, I LOVE you! This post made my day! Lunch was exactly what I needed (and need more of on a weekly basis). And you flaunt those CL (and if you ever wear them around me, I will cut them off your feet and run!)
And seriously, your 9 year old daughter is my new hero! LOVE how she stood up for her amazing, talented, smart, funny, cute shoe wearing, cancer battling mom! She does have serious balls and totally rocks in my book!
This makes me so happy on so many levels.
I'm over a year late on this, but I concur.
And your shoes, YOUR SHOES! MOTHER EFFER I AM JEALOUS! In a good way.
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