Okay, so yesterday I was a bitch. I mean BITCH. I was annoyed at everything. All that stuff going on with Penn State was everywhere….Facebook, Twitter and television. I flicked off the television. I logged off of fb. I was on Twitter for a bit. It was nice chatting with everyone and taking my mind off of the craving that was slowly grinding away at my willpower. I walked away from the laptop and cleaned the kitchen. I came back and got some support and left again to clean the bathroom. Back and forth I went, twitter and clean, twitter and clean.
Around three-ish, I hit the craving of a lifetime. I decided to light a candle and read for a bit. It took me six matches to light that wick. I needed to go into the office for a second pack. There on the desk was an opened pack of cigarettes. I reached for it and looked inside.
I could easily take one. God knows, I wanted it bad enough. But I didn’t because of something I had read earlier on Twitter. “I gave in and smoked. I will try again tomorrow”. My smoke buddy had fallen. I had answered her comment with “We can do this!” Remembering that, I broke the smokes and threw them away.
Hubs came home a short time later. It was his bad luck to come in just as another craving struck me.
“Motherfucker! You left cigarettes here! Were you trying to tempt me or test me?!! Wait, don’t answer me! I don’t want to know. I hate you right now!”
He apologized profusely. He couldn’t say enough.
I cursed him up and down. I wouldn’t let him say a word. He asked where paperwork was. I told him to look for himself. He asked if the mail had come. I asked if he saw it on his desk. I made him chicken for dinner. I made it the one way he dislikes it, and I was happy about that.
I hated myself for acting this way. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t do anything to deserve this. I wanted to kick my own ass.
He went out after dinner to check on something. He came home after an hour and went to his office. He took a shower and sat next to me on the couch. Just looking at him I could feel that switch flip again. All the sorrow I felt for being a bitch disappeared. I wanted a fight again.
Before I could do something I’d regret, I wanted a shower. I hoped that I could wash away the anger. But a shower meant wetting my hair and that was just one more thing that I didn’t want to deal with. I looked into the bathroom and was overcome with a sudden desire for a BATH. I began to run the water.
In my old house, I had one of those big, deep bathtubs on claw feet. I would take a bath as often as possible. Candle, music, head pillow…..the whole nine yards. When we moved, I was once again the owner of a standard tub. It wasn’t as deep. The water barely covered my boobs. My chest and shoulders get cold while the rest of me soaks. I gave up the baths in favor of showers.
Tonight, however, I wanted that bath more than anything….except a cigarette. The peach scented bubble bath I used to use had a layer of dust on it. I no longer have the bath pillow. Undeterred, I poured in the bubbles and watched them foam up.
It smelled heavenly. My body began to relax before I finished undressing. I eased myself in…..and floated away. The candle added an undertone of vanilla to the peach steam filling the room. I lay in the tub soaking, basking in the warmth. After about forty-five minutes, I was pruney enough and tried to get out of the water. No bath mat plus bubble bath equals a slippery tub. I needed help so I called for Hubs.
“I need someone to hang onto. It’s too slippery and I’m afraid that I’ll fall.”
He came into the bathroom and placed a towel on the side of the tub. I pulled myself up and began to step out of the water. He held my arm with one hand and reached for a second towel with his other hand. I was totally out of the shower and he began to gently dry my body. It felt so good. I was like putty.
“I didn’t leave those cigarettes on purpose. I’m sorry you felt like I let you down.”
“No, I’m sorry I took things out on you. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I was itching for a fight and you were the closest to me. I’m sorry.”
We kissed and moved into the bedroom.
Because Babygirl still reads my posts, I will spare her the details of what her parents did next. (made love…LOL)
This is the reward for thirty-one years of marriage. He can take what I dish out. Today I was a raving lunatic. This will get better. I know it will. It will pass.
But our love for each other will not pass.
I am his lunatic.
Dog Jizz in My Bed
Is there anything better on a hot summer night than nice clean, crisp, cool sheets against your freshly showered body? I think not. I love fresh sheets in the summer almost as much as I love crawling into flannel sheets fresh from the dryer in the middle of winter.
I changed the sheets the other day and I climbed in, inhaled the freshness and promptly went to sleep.
Bandit still sleeps with me. Usually he is curled somewhere near my knees and will move to my feet area later on. With the extreme heat, Mordecai has taken to joining us in the air conditioned comfort of my room. He can usually be found on top of the sheets very far at the bottom of the bed. This scenario is important to know as the story unfolds.
I was deep into my clean-sheet slumber when I was awakened by the barks of both dogs coming from inside the sheets. Snarling and barking and bumping and fumbling until Mordecai emerged and tore out of the room.
What the hell is going on??
As I started to get out of bed, Bandit emerged, clearly annoyed. I realized his anger and a wetness on my foot at the exact same time.
Mordecai had started to pee on the bed in his sleep, or marking his territory, or maybe just licking my feet. I was actually more dampish than wet, and the bed was too. I cleaned it up, covered the spot with a towel, took the dogs out and got back into bed. Mordecai went back to Babygirl’s room, and Bandit went to his crate. Since I was sleeping with a ‘helper’ I immediately crashed again.
In the morning, I had nearly forgotten about the night’s events when I heard a licking sound. Since Bandit is always licking his paws (a habit he’s had since he was a puppy) I assumed it was him. “Bandit, knock it off.” I said and suddenly Bandit was coming into the room. “What the…?” I could still hear the licking.
Mordecai had burrowed under the covers again after I got up. I flipped back the covers and there he was, licking the lipstick.
“Oh hell no!!”
Before I could say another word, he gave a little doggy whimper, his hind leg twitched and he spooged on my bed. Looking guilty, he tried to clean it up himself.
Pushing down my rising gorge (I always wondered if I would use that phrase in my writing!) I chased him from my room and changed my sheets yet again.
This I blame on the Hubs. Having Mordecai neutered was pushed back in June so we could go away for a weekend. Then it was pushed back for other expenses. Now August is totally out of the question. I swear, it will be done in September.
Until September, Hubs can change the sheets!!!
Monday Moaning-Hot As Hell
*It is hot as a motherfucker out there today, with a healthy dose of humid. There is not a breeze to be found. Every pore on my face must be open because the grease on my skin…! Holy cheese and crackers!!! I splashed my face with cool water and two minutes later, the oils were back. I feel like the Mary Kay lady got ahold of me and caked that shit all over. You know what I mean? That feeling like you have two pounds of makeup on? Yeah, that one. Yuck and a half!!!
*It will continue to be hot here in my house because it is not after Memorial Day. To Hubs, this means that it’s not summer yet. Screw that noise! It was 86 degrees today and I have a tiny ‘personal furnace’ named Bandit that wants to sit ascloseaspossible to Mama! I want my AC and I want it NOW!!!
In case you can’t read it, beneath “It’s Fucking Hot” it says “Time to Crank the AC”……I concur!
*Still bitching about the heat and humidity…..My hair is frizzy. In my attempt to keep the frizz down to a minimum, I used some of this product and that other product and my hair felt like paper and not hair. Besides that, my scalp itched. So I showered, in order to cool off and wash the disgustery out of my hair. Now my hair looks like……actually, it looks like a doll I had as a kid…..AFTER I brushed out all the pretty curls.
*About the only thing Hubs is bitching about is that he gets no sex. It is easily remedied……GIMME THE MUTHAFUCKIN AC!!!
*And the hot flashes? Bitch, please! Don’t get me started…….!
Today (Friday), on Oprah the topic is “14 Years Old and Ready to Have Sex”. Really.
Babygirl and I were sitting on the couch when the commercial came on. Where the fuck do they get these people? Can you imagine?
Kid: “Hello, Oprah show? I’m ready to have sex and like, me and my boyfriend want to tell our parents……ya know, on YOUR show!”
Oprah: “Wow! Really? We can have Dr Laura Berman on with you. This will be a ratings coup!!”
Can you imagine having this conversation at home? I mean you….your kid….their boyfriend/girlfriend….. Yeah, right.
Kid: “Mom, Dad, we’re ready to have sex.”
Parent: “That is wonderful honey! Now, Boyfriend, do you know how to pleasure my baby? I’d like her first time to be pleasurable. And of course, I’d like for her to have an orgasm.”
Kid: “Well, I uh , looked at some pornos and stuff.”
Dad: “Heh heh heh, ya can’t go wrong with pornos!”
Mom: “And where were you planning to do this? Please! Not in a car. It’s so uncomfortable and a motel room is so….impersonal.”
Kid: “Well…um….like ..we were um, thinking that maybe… like, we could, ya know, use her room, ya know, for like privacy and stuff”
Mom: “Well, sure sweetie! Ooh! I have some nice candles you can use and maybe you can get some rose petals from your mom’s garden. You know, to sprinkle around.”
Dad: “Do you have protection? I could run you to the CVS and we could get some condoms if you need them. *nudge nudge* Maybe even ribbed for her pleasure. *wink wink*
Kid: “Gee Dad, that would be swell!”
We laughed and laughed and I presented the above scenario to her. She stopped laughing and looked at me and said, “Ew. Mom. Stop. That is really gross.”
We ended the discussion, but I still wondered, what kind of parent would take their kids on Oprah to discuss such a matter. Maury and Springer always pandered to the lowest of the low. “Who’s My Baby-Daddy?” and “Transgender Mom Cheated With Dad’s Cousin to Have My Brother” are topics that incite a yawn on those shows.
Is Oprah heading down that path too? If she is, I am sorely disappointed.
Saturday dawned early…far too early for me.
Five am is no time to wake up when you have a migraine. At first I thought that maybe I was hung over. But as time passed (excruciatingly slow, I might add) I realized that it was going to be worse. I got pukey sick and my head felt like it was crushed by a truck hurt like the dickens. I began to get the chills and then I got the sweats. Eventually Bubblewench and Sybillaw woke up and we decided to get breakfast. I hoped that maybe some pancakes would soak up whatever was breaking out of upsetting my stomach. After eating, we returned to the room where I promptly fell asleep like a dead woman on the couch. I slept so deeply that I heard no one enter or exit the room.
During my slumber, I missed a trip to see the horses, a shopping excursion, a tattoo outing, lunch, and just socializing. But apparently I needed my rest because I awoke bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I was finally ready to go to ConFab!!!
We called for a cab so that Bubblewench could get her drink on with us. (As you can see, we are quite responsible when getting shit-faced). When we arrived at Bliss Manor, some folks were relaxing on the deck, others were by the outdoor bar, and still others were indoors. I got to meet such a supah blogger named….wait for it….DUTCHBITCH!!! Yes! She had made the trip from Dutchlandia. She was every bit as beautiful in person as I knew she would be!
Turnbaby was a busy little bee. No catering for that chick! She gave Martha Stewart a run for the money by making a slew of appetizers, beef tenderloin, and many other mouth-watering joys. Now that my stomach was better, I tried every.single.thing. Miss Turn was incredible, as was Mr Fabulous. They greeted us all and made sure that we all had full glasses, plates and conversations.
The drinks were…..
Ahh, the drinks……How to describe? Maybe this will do:
This was the tip of the iceberg as far as alcohol goes!
And then…..Mr Evil Sadistic Fabulous brought out a tray of concoctions that was the downfall of many a blogger…….JELLO SHOTS!
There was much eating, much-much drinking, laughter, singing, chatting…..as well as tweeting….go figure….
Eventually all good things must come to an end. Since Bubblewench had left with others, Sybillaw and I were left behind. Lucky for us, Lynda was sober enough to drive us to the hotel, where we discovered that neither of us had a key for the room. We banged and complained (loudly) before staggering our way to the lobby for a new one. We got into the room and there was no sign of Bubblewench! She had gone to party with other bloggers in the hotel and that’s why no one opened the door!!
Everyone had a wonderful time. New friends were made and old friendships were tightened. And may I add….the best shirt of the party:
I hope that I have an opportunity to meet all of these folks again. They are a wonderful bunch of people……
But we already knew that.
Drink count for the night: 2 extra superduper strong vodka and cranberry juice (Thanks Sodapop!), 5 bottles of water, 1 shot of moonshine….although I cannot remember if I actually did one. And jello shots: 1 coconut rum, 1 spiced(?) rum, 2 or 3 with vodka and the one made especially for me: Orange jello with Southern Comfort. I think I had 5 or 6…..I can’t remember that either…
I was up so late on Friday. Drinking and laughing with all of my friends is more taxing on my body now that I am forty-seven of a certain age. I woke up Saturday a mere five hours after changing my blood over to alcohol. Babygirl was going out for the day and I wanted to see her off. And then I laid on the couch to watch a movie and promptly went back to sleep. I repeated this process twice more before feeling ‘normal’.
Hubs came into the living room, where I sat uploading pictures of my friends. As I squinted my dry, gritty eyes, he said, “Hey. Wanna go to the shore tomorrow? We can go visit Chris and his wife in Avalon. Maybe we’ll throw caution to the wind and stay overnight”.
We never do anything like that so I agreed.
We woke up early, hastily threw a bag of clothes together, let the kids know our plans, and hit the road. Traffic was light, the sun was bright, and I felt all right! We talked, we sang with the radio, and just enjoyed each other’s company. We got to his friend Chris’ place with no problem but instead of parking the car, we kept on going.
“Hey! That’s his house! What are you doing?”
“I suddenly feel like hanging out alone. Is that okay with you? Let’s drive further, get a room, go out tonight and head home tomorrow.”
I was shocked, but hey, I’m easy. So we went and did exactly that.
By the time we got to the beach we wanted, and checked into our room, I was beginning to get a headache. We decided to lay down and take a nap before going out. Of course, we needed to ‘relax’ properly before sleeping.
We woke up, showered and dressed to head out to dinner. The entire time it was like we were a young couple on our first trip without the kids! We laughed, walked around the room in various stages of undress, and generally revelled in our ‘alone-ness”
After a great dinner, we went to a club where a band was playing, the people were dancing and the alcohol flowed. OMG!! I couldn’t believe how fast the drinks hit us, but after only a few, we went back to our room, ‘relaxed’ some more and slept….
….until 4:38am when a car alarm went off in the parking lot below us. Our heads were pounding, the bed was still spinning, and then sleep……
At 7, I got up and got into the shower. But I forgot the body wash. So I used the little 2”x4″ hotel soap, careful to keep it from getting lost in my creases! Shit! I also forgot the shampoo! The hairspray from the night before made a waterproof coating on my hair that the hotel soap just couldn’t penetrate. My hair felt awful and I panicked thinking that I would have to go out looking like Medusa! I came out the bathroom and spotted dish washing liquid on the little kitchen sink.
“It can cut grease, so maybe it can cut through this goop on my head”
So I used it. At first it didn’t lather and I thought “Oh great. This isn’t going to work either”. But it did. I covered my wet hair with a bandana and we had breakfast before heading home.
The humidity got worse the closer we got to home. All along my hairline I could feel the beads of sweat forming. When I started feeling the sweat on my neck, all I could picture was all of that dish detergent foaming where I couldn’t see it.
When I got home, I felt so dirty…….yes because of the dish detergent hair treatment…..and also because I was a “dirty, dirty girl”
I wish that all of you can have the opportunity to ‘date’ your lover. Be strangers, be virgins, be ‘professionals’….whatever your fantasy….just do it. …on the spur of the moment….
It’s a dream come true.
Just don’t forget your shampoo!
On My Mind
Why do princesses and queens always wear gowns? I understand that was the fashion ‘back in the day’ but now? Not so much. I watched a movie today and the evil queen wore a long gown. However, the other women in the movie wore pants. Strange….
How come a mysterious door always reveals a blinding light or infathomable darkness? Back to that movie. There was a door and when it opened, it revealed an impenetrable darkness. Oooh, evil! But I have seen other movies in which the door opened to revealed blinding light (and it usually signifies ‘God’) Dark, light….why not just clothes? Or scantily clad, barely legal Japanese girls?
Why does Geico money watch me? I don’t get that commercial. I feel stupid every time it is on because I don’t understand it. The money hasn’t been saved. It is the money that I “could have saved” so does it actually exist? Where did the eyeballs come from? STOP WATCHING ME!!
Who was the first guy to ‘waggle’ his junk back and forth while naked and who told him it was sexy? Guys? Just say no. Don’t do it! That is, unless it is a part of silliness. I don’t find it part of foreplay. It does not make me hot. And no, I don’t want to “touch it”. Bring it to bed and make sweet love to me. I will touch it, kiss it, fondle it and whatever else you want. Just don’t flap at me and say “you know you wanna!!”
Cure For Vagitation
If you visited me yesterday, then you know what I am talking about when I say that I have been ‘vagitated’.
Words like ‘antsy’, ‘crabby’, and ‘bitchy’ just don’t seem adequate to explain the feeling. Like I said when I wrote that post, it is not a matter of ‘Aunt Flo’ visiting or PMSing. I’m just…….vagitated.
Not having a clue, Hubs asks the silly questions that anger me: “What’s wrong?” and “What’s gotten you so weirded out?” Of course, an angry Metalmom does not put out. But what can I do to mellow myself out? I can’t always be drunk or drugged…..well, no more than usual….!
Then, this morning, I wake up and start visiting my friends. One of them has been reading my mind, because OMG!! she showed me the way.
Miss Britt now has a blog in which she gives reviews of products that REAL women want, need and use. And…in order to promote her new digs, she’s having a giveaway of the one thing guaranteed to dispel vagitation…..
Yes, a vibrator. Who needs a man to soothe the savage beast in a woman??
So, go….check out Buy Her Things
Monday Moaning-Keep It Zipped
My brother’s wife is pregnant…again. This will be my brother’s sixth kid. But this post is a venting process and vent I will…..even though it may not be my place to even have an opinion.
My brother, D and his wife L have been married for eleven years. Their kids are ten, nine, six and four. D also has a fifteen year old daughter from a previous relationship. D has to work very hard, for long hours to take care of his family plus keeping up with child support for his daughter. And he is a provider.
L has a few emotional problems. She gets post partum depression. (We are all aware of this and we watch her like a hawk…so do her doctors.) I also believe that she may be slightly bipolar. When she is good, everything is great. But when she is bad, she can make life a living hell for my brother. She will leave him with the kids and run home to her parents. She will file for divorce and constantly harass my brother and my parents, who will step up to help D take care of the kids while he works.
But eventually, they will work things out and she will come back.
Don’t get me wrong–She is an incredible mother when these episodes are gone. My nieces and nephews are all smart as hell and she home schools her kids. They are polite beyond words and say “ma’am” and “sir”. They are very innocent due to the fact that they are sheltered even from some Disney films that L feels are just a tad disturbing.
However, when they “make up” she gets pregnant. D wanted to stop at two kids, but…..Mister can’t keep it in his pants. He refuses to “get fixed” and she simply doesn’t believe in it.
Where is this going?
Well, I see how hard my brother works. I see how, no matter how tired he may be on his day off, he will take his children out-to a park, a movie, or just for ice cream. I see how he bends over backwards to accommodate her controlling whims. But he is certainly not controlled by her.
Last week, he called to say that they are expecting again. I listened through the phone at the silence that separated us. “D, you have to give me a sign. I don’t know whether to congratulate you or to hit you upside the head.”
He said he was happy. “What can I say?”
“Well,” I asked, “When is the due date?”
OMG! Are you kidding me?? He just told my parents and now that the cat was out of the bag, he was calling me to let me know. He waited because he knew he would have had nine months of grief from my parents….and me.
As the oldest of my siblings, and as the most responsible of us too, I am the conscience of the family. I hold my brothers and sister accountable for their actions. I will loudly proclaim that I believe their actions are stupid, their choices irresponsible.
However….D is the only one other than myself who is married. Like I said, he provides well and his kids are happy and healthy. These are his children with his wife. So I have to step back a bit and keep it zipped
But not here. Here I am allowed to say:
D!! You stupid ass! Why do you do this to yourself? You know that L will freak out again and give the new baby to Mom and Dad! They are too old for this shit and so are you! Enough is enough. Man up and get yourself fixed. You owe it to yourself to limit your children right now. When will you see that by doing so, you will finally be able to slow down your life and enjoy it?
But to him I will say:
You and L are wonderful parents. Let me know if there is anything you need me do to help out. I’m always here for you.
I love you, you asshole.
After all these years, I have just learned that alot of the holiday preparations depend on me. Normally I don’t mind. I take on these tasks joyfully. This year, however, I am having a bit of trouble with it all.
I usually start my decorating and cards and shopping right after Halloween. This year, I was busy getting shots in my back. Not to worry. I told myself that I wouldn’t be so achy afterwards and then I’d be ready to kick ass and do it all.
That didn’t happen. I’ve been sore. I’ve had babies. This means that I put things off. I would get done whatever I could during the weekend. (This translates to “Hubs was home and I did diddlysquat”.)
Last week I had no kids. I began wrapping the presents. When I got tired of that, I started painting a cabinet in my bathroom and some baseboards. I was decorating. I was rearranging furniture. I was busy! In between all of that, I shopped some more with Hubs. He must have really worked hard driving the car and pulling out cash to pay because once we got home, he had to lay on the couch. Poor bastard.
Of course all of my regular wifely duties were done too. I did laundry. I took out the dog and fed him. I vacuumed. I made my bed. I was Wonder Woman!!
Yesterday, I blew out my back and lost a day of productivity because I was drugged and in bed watching “The Incredibles” It must have helped because I awoke with my back feeling much better. I finished the last of the wrapping and I will be decorating the tree soon.
I will not bitch at Hubs. I’m not allowed to.
He got me something ( okay, some thingS) that I really, really, really wanted and that cost some bucks. I owe him big. I owe him secks….
Lots and lots of secks……
So my friends, I will be away till after the holidays. I hope you all have wonderful times with whomever you choose to be with. I wish you no drama, no tears, and no flu. I wish you lots of laughter, lots of wine, and lots of love.
Lots and lots and lots of love (and secks)!!!!