offline

Offline due to moving....back when settled.

stuff

Yup your right I should be packing & packing, instead of f'ing around online. But everyone that is reading my mindless bullshit at this very moment...you out there should be doing something else also...lets raise are fists in the air for a momentary "fuck it."

Some thoughts:

CHEM CLASS:

Started my Chem class with a good friend "B." Shout out to "B." I'm not sure what I would like to shout out to "B"....probably "woman we are going out for drinks & deep fried food when this bullshit is over with.." But, I'm digressing the Chemistry professor is very Mexicano from Mexico very well educated & traveled man that does not act like a crema. BUT he did use the would quantitative several times. Well, I don't know about most of you audience but if you are able to slip that word into normal conversation concerning normal things then damn you are learned. The second time he slipped the word quantitative in, mentally I had already grabbed my purse, given B a very solemn "oh well..." nod, started heading home to a glass of wine & some Ice Road Truckers...with a guess I'll go work at Kmart attitude. I thought I was bad ass when I knew what the word catharsis meant...but the professor has defiantly 4 up'd me.

QVC:

I have always known that the QVC was out there. But, in my head it was for shut in's with money, nanas with money & arthritis, and for an occasional homosexual gentleman who was too busy with his social life to go out & shop. BUT, I've been schooled. It started with their mineral makeup B.E. Which according to myself is some of the best makeup I've ever used I am in the process of building a complete collection of that stuff...which will have no monitory value, but will make me feel like a pretty mama.
Last night I caught myself watching it...they were selling travel mugs. I was intrigued about the travel mugs, intrigued about what the ladies were saying about the travel mugs, and even listened to the pathetic I've got nothing better to do than speak to you fuckers caller. I then realized..."shit...these people could sell me anything.." I'm sure they could sell me warm cat poop in a jar & I would totally go for it...not knowing why I would purchase the poop + the warmer + jar together for $14.99 available on easy pay...and be thrilled. Don't worry I still stop myself before I reach for my credit card...

BEING RIGHT:
I don't like to write about my kids because I think reading about other peoples kids is some boring stuff....BUT I have to go into my 4 year old's latest quirk. He thinks he's right. Example: he was talking about a tooth stick that some lady had in her mouth on TV. I correct him "no baby it's a tooth pick..." He looks at me dead on and says "no your wrong...it's a tooth stick.." AND walks off shaking his little carter dinosaur chonies ass. He does this constantly he says something incorrectly then I correct him & he tells me I'm wrong. He did it in the car the other day so I look at my mom and say "chinga su...mirar esta la Leticia ___ back there.." in my very best spanglish...Note: only my cousin will understand & laugh at the Lety ___ line... That is my sister who thinks she's always right even though she's 99% of the time very wrong. But, like a rabid pit bull she will fight to the death that she's right. Of all the f'd up quirks for my son to "get" from my sister...Why couldn't he get her quirk to keep the car super super clean.

LUCKY:
I've been thinking lately of how lucky I am. I've got a good man, kids, family, & friends. We just bought a home..we aren't rolling in cash but the man is working hard things are getting paid & things are getting better. Being honest I don't deserve any of it. I'm not a bad person, but honestly I'm not that great either. I have full disclosure been trying to kill my mom's poodle for over a year. The four year old has even noticed it & ratted me out to the nana...So I don't consider myself worthy of my blessing...I consider myself one lucky bitch. That's it just lucky nothing else. I won't commit to calling it anything else since I am a very strict agnostic in the sense that I refuse to say any one thing is the answer to anything....Anyway, let's just hope my luck sticks.


quan·ti·ta·tive /ˈkwɒntɪˌteɪtɪv/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[kwon-ti-tey-tiv] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation –adjective
1.
that is or may be estimated by quantity.
2.
of or pertaining to the describing or measuring of quantity.
3.
of or pertaining to a metrical system, as that of classical verse, based on the alternation of long and short, rather than accented and unaccented, syllables.
4.
of or pertaining to the length of a spoken vowel or consonant.


ca·thar·sis /-siz/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[-seez] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation.
1.
the purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, esp. through certain kinds of art, as tragedy or music.
2.
Medicine/Medical. purgation.
3.
Psychiatry.
a.
psychotherapy that encourages or permits the discharge of pent-up, socially unacceptable affects.
b.
discharge of pent-up emotions so as to result in the alleviation of symptoms or the permanent relief of the condition.

packing

Since I'm currently packing up all my belongings I've had one major conclusion. I'm not as clean as I thought I was. Like all parents since I've had children my standards for things have gone down...now that I've got two kids my standards are dropped to the if it looks alright on the outside & doesn't smell horrible then don't look under the bed and we're cool.

That being said I still like a clean house. Although I will state a disclaimer that I like a clean house, but I also like a comfortable house. I want to live in my home not have my home own me. I grew up in a household where we were never allowed to eat outside the confines of the kitchen, never allowed to sit on the couches (Couches are for company), and if my mother could have gotten away with it I am sure everyone including the pooches would have worn plastic booties. When I finally got away from her pinesol hell I vowed to not be "like that..." with my home (home being where ever I lay my head down to sleep..)

Yet, I can't help but shake my head at myself as I pack. Things are covered in dust. When did the kitchen cabinets get so grimy? I am not sure the floor behind the toilet is suppose to be that color...gross. I'm gross.....when did that happen?

All my friends that are reading this will say "yes, but you've got two kids...one's a baby...your really busy..." All true, but damn I never realized I had gotten that low on my standards.

So where does that leave me? I am not sure. I don't have time or patience to be up to my standards. I can't live up to my own cleanliness standards how f'd up is that? If I was rich I could make my employees lives impossible getting them to live up to my standards...like Jeff Lewis on the Flipping out TV show. By the way I love that guy...he's crazy, I would never work for him, but he's a completely fun to watch. But alas I have no employees to harass. It also brings the question to mind if I could have a maid or personal chef which would it be? CHEF...I hate cooking more than cleaning. I'll scrub a toilet, don't ask me to make you dinner...

So there it is people....I have had my bubble popped: the realization that I have become a little bit of a cochina.

So audience which would it be for you? Personal Chef or Maid?

escrow

going through escrow crap....will blog when life calms down.

nosy...

So I've told you all that I am a self confessed pervert. I would now like to toss out to the world that I am nosy. Yes, that's right I'm nosy. In self defense I am not your classic nosy busy body. I'm not spying on my neighbors through the blinds, going through my friends mail, I don't read my husbands text messages (maybe I should)...

No, not nosy like that. Nosy in a way where I'm always wondering exactly what makes people tick & what exactly are they doing. Here are some examples: Whenever I'm driving anywhere and I see an interesting looking home or building. I always wonder, who lives/works there what do they do? What are they like? That very big beautiful house where ever...I would love to knock on there door & ask what everyone is doing. Oprah once said she always wondered what people around her neighborhood where cooking for dinner. My nosy is kinda like that.

Here's an example: I go the gym at all different hours. I have no set schedule for the gym...basically I show up several times a week when I've got someone to watch the kids. So today when I hit the gym at 1pm thinking I would have the place to myself...Hell no the place was packed. WTF? I just wanted to walk around asking "who are you? how can you be at a gym in the middle of a workday? What do you do for a living...?"

The new girl in the apartment across from mine she comes out once a day to walk her very adorable Bulldog named Molly & her dust rag foo foo dog named Roxi....I only see her once a day...so I wonder what is she doing in there all day long with those two dogs & a 2 year old. Hasn't she gone mad yet? I feel compelled to knock on her door with some lame excuse about the roof being on fire, trolls have taken over the laundry room, the pool is full of jello...just to get a glimpse of what she is doing...

So there it is world I'm nosy...but don't worry I won't raid your bathroom drawers I'm too afraid of what I might find...If I find something really weird I'd have to walk out of your bathroom look you in the eye & pretend everything is cool while pretending not to wipe every thing before I touch it...Which would probably spiral into you thinking I've developed a bad case of sudden OCD so better not go there....Anyway I'm way to busy wondering what the man across the street is doing in his garage to remember you have stuff in your bathroom drawers.

So tell me tiny blog audience that I have: What are you nosy about? Because I'm nosy I'd like to know. You can comment on it or email me...

The Feds...

Pages of obscure crap could be told about my upstairs neighbors. But, I haven't the energy to go over it today. I will say that the dude is very very unsociable. There have been two times that I have had to knock on his door. The first time I did he opened it up about 2 inches & as I spoke the SOB started closing it...

Today, I kindly knock on the door because his mail was in my mailbox. It looked important something from a bank...so I go. He opens the door about an inch grunts that it is in fact his mail, ninja grabs it out of my hand & then closes it quickly.

It's creepy and comical. Picture it...I can see only one of his eyes, a few hairs of his goatee, and one ear. He opens the door as if he's waiting on the feds to show up any day to grab his ass & haul him off to some kind of international court for some horrible war crimes. Since he's nervous & looking around I'm nervous & annoyed...but I notice that I start looking around. Is there something out in the matrix that I am happily unaware of? Was he expecting his meth dealer? Is he a meth dealer? Did he not pay his rent & is waiting to have it out with the land lord?

What totally sends me for a loop is the fact that he leaves his bedroom window open all the freaking time. Wide open. It's a 115 out there & his freaking window is open, curtains and all. So why act like such a fool at the front door and then egging people on to view your personal life through your bedroom window?

moving

Blogging will be slow for the next couple weeks...I'm in the process of moving...

Yup people I'm packing up my junk & moving it to another place & then unpacking my junk.

a couple things...

I knew something was up with that office girl at my apartments...Without giving away too much detail...I was bitching to the manager about something she did and the manager said "oh, ______ is dyslexic she gets all sorts of things mixed up..." I knew it. There was something to her that I could not grasp. I'm pretty good about reading people so I knew she had a secret something under her coat for no one to see.... I hope she gets help and I hope she doesn't fuck my stuff up.

I have gotten a lot of positive emails from friends and friends of friends that are reading my blog. Funny...all you people keep emailing me but no one comments. It's like the American Sign language applause...silent.

mind in the gutter...

Okay...so I'm a big pervert. My mind always somehow wanders to the gutter. The red light district is on. I can't help it I'm a sociologist at heart. I like to study people figure out how they tick & well it always starts or ends with me wondering about "things."



Here are some examples:



Tibetan Monks: what are they wearing under the orange robes? Tighty Whitey's? Boxers" Al aira fresca?



Odd looking couples: Well, we are all odd looking...but I mean couples where you have the Sumo looking man and the tiny Asian looking chick. How do they? Are their straps involved? A crane...how does she not get crushed. A boss and friend once told me "Well, sweetie sometimes you just have to ride them..." After I peeled myself off the floor from laughter. I understood that was true.



Angry Butch Lesbians couples: You've seem them, know them, love them...but one has to wonder when you've got two very butch lesbians who seem to constantly be pissed off at something...does anything sweet happen in the bedroom. Or do they just roll around growling & gnawing on one another.



Brad & Angie: Come on two of the most beautiful people in the world? Everyone wonders. Your 87 year old abuela whose probably busy right now making enchiladas wonders.



Paula Dean: Okay I don't ponder about what she and her fisherman husband are doing. It's mostly images of both of them giggling & feeding each other biscuits.



Your boss & his/her spouse: Ya, you've thought it. You might not want to picture it. But you've seen your bosses spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend and you've said "mmmm..." to yourself...You might have brushed it out of your mind quickly but the thought has occurred.



Clay Aiken/Michael Jackson/All those Sleep away camp type of people: No images here. Just that simple conclusion...someone is willing to go there. Someone is willing to look & gasp touch that. How much purex does it take to get over that? I assume the answer is gallons.






AND those are just off the top of my head. I'm not really digging deep. It's almost (not really..if you knew me you'd wouldn't expect anything less) frightening to think what is there if I dug deep. There might be questions that no one wants an answer to.

Unrelated to all of the above I have decided to add AdSense to my blog. This is an unpopular move and is noted by many casual writers to be selling out. But it's the American way. I am a stay at home mom/full time student. If I can earn some change to pay for textbooks then hooray for red, white, and blue me.

In closing I would like to state that Nicolas Cage is not aging well...he seems to be melting.