» log book loan

Filed under: — Mary @ 6:36 pm

I saw the commercial for pay per click company last night and I almost fell off the couch in desire. What angel on earth thought of this new and luscious way to enjoy chocolate and when am I ever going to be off my diet enough that I would allow myself to indulge unimpeded and guilt-free? Um. How ’bout never. Somehow - I don’t think you can ever eat something like that and not feel guilty.

That reminds me, I haven’t been posting personal pictures even though I have a ton on my camera. With the latest reformat, my USB ports aren’t working correctly for my digi or my webcam. Yeah, I know it’s easy enough to fix but I’m lazy.

I was watching sia course the other day… okay, hold up and realize by me typing that how illustrative it is of my boredom level. Someone please, save me from Reality TV hell. If you haven’t seen it, it’s just another show about rich people spending money. Lisa (the mom) actually corralled an “image and style strategist” to accompany her while buying dog clothes. *blink* I don’t know what offends my feeble bank account more - the fact that a guy gives himself that bullshit title and the rich actually hire him or Lisa needs someone else to decide which $75 pair of boots to buy her chihuahua.

As long as I’m talking about reality TV shlock, I caught my first ever episode of Growing Up Gotti. Whatshername - the mom - went on a date and got all testy when the guy said that a requirement to dating someone is being physically attracted. The mom says in the voice over how much that turned her off. So, she has blonde extensions (yes they are so don’t deny it) down her back and has almost as much plastic surgery (yes you have so don’t deny it) as Joan Rivers, yet wants to take exception to a guy talking about wanting to be physically attracted to a woman whilst dating her. Color me dumbfounded. Question to Irememberhernamenow, Victoria: How can you be with someone that you’re not attracted to, genius?

The Diamondbacks v. Padres match ups have been some good games so catch the one tonight if you are able. Never mind the fact that you can see on camera the person I was talking about in the post below. Oh yes, another baseball player besides the ex-husband. And you thought all the stories I had to tell, I’ve already told. Shame, shame! Heh. Update: Didn’t I say it was going to be a good one? Jake Peavy threw a CG, 2 hit shutout for the Padres and they won 10-0. ;)

I think it’s funny in baseball when the visiting team hits a homerun and the hometown fans throw the ball back on the field. Why do they do that? Like the batter is going to wail, “Oh nooo, they threw the ball back.” *cries* “My homerun doesn’t count now.” *stomps in dugout* I read somewhere that sometimes the fans bring regular, average balls to the games and throw those on the field and keep the MLB one which makes the whole futile exercise even dumber.

I have an undeniable craving for chinese food and I must satisfy it. My stomach is growling at me, “I won’t be ignored, Mary!”

I haven’t been recapping the Inferno, not because I don’t have time (I have nothing BUT time) but more because that the episodes have sorta been the same the past couple weeks. How many times can I say that the UnFab 3 are being bitches while Tonya acts like she hates them while secretly attempting to get them to like her and the Bad Asses won the challenge? And don’t you think it’s funny how the Bad Dumb Asses always gloat when their teammate wins the Inferno? They’re all such greedy bastards; did it ever occur to them that they have to divide the money at the end? Less people, more money. Duh.

Oh, but the part in the latest episode when Julie is chanting to herself “The road to God is straight and narrow…” and then almost immediately falls in the water is priceless. I’ve always thought when people pray for trivial things such as marrying George Clooney, wanting a Benz delivered, bigger boobs, winning a Life Shield on an MTV show; that God isn’t really trying to hear you. I could be wrong, though.

professional indemnity insurance is going to be on PPV this weekend. From those that have seen it, yea or nay? Remember, there’s $3.99 on the line.

I was looking at my stats the other day and someone ended up here by asking Google the question: Am I easily manipulated? You know, the fact that someone is turning to Google to answer such a thing for them makes me think the answer is: HELL YEAH. Oh, and this is also a good time to mention that any comment, email or search term is liable to become blog fodder. Them’s the breaks.

My brother is on his way over with chinese food and beer. Ahhh, doesn’t get any better. Yes, I’m spoiled. Byeeeeee.


» Lucky in Love

Filed under: — Mary @ 7:26 am

I’ve been thinking a lot about relationships lately. I don’t know why because I’m one of those people when I’m actually in one, I look around and think: So this is what everyone is always going on about? This holy grail of man?!

Don’t get me wrong - I’m very happy with R and when he’s in town, I’m even happier. *wink* I know that some people may think that since I have a long distance relationship could be why I can say this but I’ll say it anyway: my end all, be all is not centered on R’s every breath and move that he makes. That has nothing to do with being apart so much and everything to do with the fact that I’m 33. I’ve been to the puppet show; I’ve seen the strings.

You know what? Scratch that last sentence. Jerry Maguire is now banned from my video library after I saw Tom Crui.se’s appearance performance on Opr.ah. Seriously dude, hold it together. And rest assured, the female audience you were trying to convince to catch your summer blockbuster - snore - by acting like a cracked out school boy in “love” (who knew a guy could appear so whipped when he’s dating a virgin?) you have now lost by all that inane and misinformed talk about Bro.oke Shi.elds’ postpartum depression. I must have missed the part where you actually gave birth and know what the hell you’re talking about. *seethe* Now do me a favor and close your mouth so I don’t have to hear you talk or see that stupid plastic goofy grin. You lost me after Top Gun.

Enough about *retch* Tom. As I said in a previous post, I’m addicted to the Single in the City series (ATL starts on June 2nd!) on the WE network. The link is below; I’m too lazy to link right now. Tee hee.

You may wonder how fascinating it can be to watch a bunch of women go on dates while a camera follows them around. Who cares? But you see, what’s riveting to me is seeing firsthand evidence of all the things a woman does wrong. I’m not talking about the cartoon-ish “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days” wrong - more so the bad patterns women fall into convinced they’re right and all the men are wrong.

Okay, back up. Nowhere in this post am I attempting to paint myself as perfect when it comes to men. That almost makes me want to laugh; saying “myself” “perfect” and “men” in the same sentence because I have done the stuuupidest things. I’d get into detail but this isn’t about me. ‘Nother post, ‘nother day.

I watch this show and I want to slap my hand to my forehead in dismay. I want to throw things at the TV. I sit on my couch and gape that (some of these) women can act so stupid, so incredibly desperate and then cry about the less than stellar results. MEN SUCK! *waaaaaaah*

You know who is a good example of that? Am.ber Fr.ey. I’m so not going to get in an in-depth discussion about this broad and what I think of her personally but I will say that I could not STAND all the media coverage that made her seem like such a victim. Not even SP but the men before him. The down-on-her-luck-in-love sob story they had going on ad nauseam was a lot for me to swallow. She made stupid decisions, set low standards for herself and therefore attracted and put up with a bunch of losers. Period.

Watching the South Beach addition of SITC last night a thought struck me: a good portion of the women featured are in their late 20s and early 30s. THEY SHOULD KNOW BETTER. Not all of them act like idiots but the couple that do I really hope learn something after watching themselves chase after men that just aren’t that into them. There is no book that will tell you when a man is into you, none of your friends can tell you, you don’t need to be on reality TV and you don’t need a crystal ball. When a man is into you - you know. That’s it. Now give me my $12.95. Kidding.

I’ll leave you with a huge lesson I learned and it’s a mistake that I see time and again not only on this series but with a lot of my friends. A man, for the most part, will always treat you good in the beginning. Agreed? How else is he going to suck you in? Woo you? Wine you, dine you? It’s a given he’s Prince Charming on the outset.

Then you get to know each other. Things change and he’s not treating you the same. He’s not calling as much and when he does, you can’t pin him down. It takes a couple days to return a call. When he does actually make plans with you it’s at the last minute and you jump up without question. Or you never go out together anymore - in fact, the only time you see him is when he comes over after midnight to get some. He may even put you off entirely saying he has to feed his parakeet or clean the wax out of his cat’s ears - and you know he owns neither. You’re sad because you want that man on the white horse back, that man that treated you so great. Where did that man gooo?!

Guess what, girls? That man ain’t coming back because he’s a fantasy, a figment, a mirage. What you’re dealing with now is the reality and the reality is - the man who you’re crying over? Doesn’t even exist so let him go. The longer you tie yourself down with Dream Guy, the longer it’s going to take to find the man you should be with and wants to be with you.

I learned my lesson, a very hard lesson with someone that I thought was the “one” - no not my ex-husband but the “one” after that. Heh. I pined and longed for this guy for years. I waited for him to come around and be the man he promised me he’d be and how I thought he could be. The only thing I got was - A LESSON TO NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! Much more valuable than getting the man if I do say so myself.

There is a very good reason everyone is always imploring to take relationships slow, get to know one another so you really know the person. Me, personally, I’m not one of those that’s attracted or addicted to the “newness” of a relationship. I like to fast-forward 3, 6, 9 months and have a better idea of what I’m dealing with, I crave the familiarity and comfort level that comes with that. Plus nothing is better than letting your guard down, feeling free to be yourself and having someone love you more for it.

And by the way R, it’s our 10-month anniversary. :) Who picked the 25th?! I DID. Have a great day!


» Warning: Long’n

Filed under: — Mary @ 7:33 am

~ There is a warning in the title which means that people with the first initial R in possession of both a short attention span and sharp wit are not allowed to gripe that this post is too long. ~

I’m having a spell. If I don’t answer my phone when you call, don’t take it personally. I didn’t talk to my own father for over a month. I didn’t want to tell him that I no longer have a job and hear him yell. I hate when he yells or gets upset because he had bypass surgery a few years ago and I always think I’ll send him back to St. Vincent’s (I was born there *preen*) in a speeding ambulance.

Mother’s Day came and even though my brother had bought me a pretty Hallmark daughter-to-mother card, addressed the envelope and stamped it for me so all I had to do was sign it - Thanks J! - I couldn’t very well not call Mom on her special day.

Sidenote: My mother had knocked the phone off the hook so I got a busy signal all that day until about 8pm. My mother thought the entire day that none of her 9, yes 9, kids thought to call their mother on the one day they’re required to do so. Poor momma!

Sidenote 2: When I was little, we weren’t allowed to address my mother as “she” or “her” as in - “But Dad, she said no!” My dad would always say, “She is not a she, she is your mother.” Is it disrespectful to say “she” in reference to one’s mother or is my dad just funny that way?

In the course of the conversation that evening with MOM, I leaked out the job situation. HAPPY MOTHERS DAY! I hadn’t planned on telling her my mother but remember that peachy drink I talked about? At the ex-hubby’s job? Alcohol has a way of loosening my mouth. In fact, I spew forth a lot of things whilst drinking that I should probably just keep to myself. Shut up, R!

Cut to this week and weekend. I stressed myself out at the prospect of calling my parents to let them know how I was probably, kinda, sorta going to need their assistance in order to make it through the end of the month and into the next. But I finally sucked it up Saturday afternoon and decided to go for it. Without alcohol.

They were in their motor home on the Oregon Coast. How cute my parents still take little trips together. I love it. I felt bad and wanted to try and act like it was just a “Hello!” call, thereby not ruining their mini-vacay. (My brother said later, “You dumbass! You called when they were at the coast?” Thanks J!)

But my Dad knew anyway. No, he’s not psychic. But figuring that we hadn’t talked in so long and my mother already spilled the beans since I had already spilled my beans, he was more or less anticipating my call. The good side to that? He didn’t yell. Yay! I didn’t plan it that way, swear.

I had previously talked to my dad at length how I was being treated at the former job place so he wasn’t surprised at all by the turn of events. In fact, both my parents were extremely cool about it and offered up their little nuggets of information.

Mother: You know W (sis-in-law) sent out 150 resumes before she got the job she wanted. Yes she did. Hmmm mmm, by golly.
Father: You weren’t happy there and they treated you like shit so take the time you need to find a place that appreciates you.

I love my parents. I can’t believe how supportive they are. I even told my dad, with bated breath, my wish to go back to school so I won’t be chasing these dead-end jobs the rest of my life. I thought he’d say no, I thought he’d say - Just get a damn job already! - but he didn’t. He said that he knew I could do it because he knows how smart I am. *bats eyes*

Needless to say, I cried pretty much through the entire course of the conversations I had with them. I’m 33 and I’m still asking my parents for help. I HATE THAT. It’s why I take until the last minute to call or try and not worry them so I never say anything. “Everything’s fine! Oh yeah, me and the kid are doing just grrreat!”

However, I hate more that I don’t reach out for help when I need it. R says he knows that I do that. That I shut down when things are really serious but I can talk non-stop about little things that don’t even matter. I hate that I went over a month to talk to my dad because he really, truly, has always been the one person that without question, has my back. And I don’t mean just monetarily. Although it helps. Duh.

I know that I’m fortunate. Really lucky to have a dad that when I hear that saying that a girl looks for a man that reminds them of their father, in my case it’s true. I love you, Dad. I probably should have waited to post this til Father’s Day but I guess I’ll be early for once. As if he knows about the blog anyway. *snort* Oh God no.



» Take My Kid, Please

Filed under: — Mary @ 1:28 am

Kids are so ungrateful. In fact, mine will now be referred to as the Ingrate instead of the Dictator for this entire post - or as long as I deem appropriate.

The Ingrate was really sick, the sickest he’s probably ever been with bronchitis. To the point that he could barely talk and he just laid around like a lump. I let him sleep on the couch because he always wants to sleep on the couch but I never let him - when he’s well. See, I’m the type of parent that the kid gets whatever he wants when he’s sick. Play me like a fiddle, he can. Where did I sleep? On the tiny loveseat because I didn’t want to leave him alone.

Me, big = little couch. Him, little = big couch. It’s mother math, don’t mess with me.

He’s been hacking, wheezing and he needs 3 different meds at all different hours of the day and night. His fever would jump up to 102 and inch it’s way back down and then jump up again. I was getting so little sleep that I felt all out of it and exhausted - it harked back to the days when he was a baby.

So today, he finally feels a little better. Today, he can actually talk albeit with a bit of rasp. He’s still hacking like a lifetime smoker but the fever is gone so he thinks he’s well. He feels so much better that he calls his Dad to make plans to go see S.W. I’m not typing it because the last thing I need is the loons that follow that shit religiously Googling me. It’s not my thing, I don’t get it, don’t come here for it. (The same goes for people looking for free love in Phoenix - Ain’t nothing free, bitches!)

Where was I? Oh. I really hate when the Ingrate and the Dad make plans and don’t include me. No, that doesn’t mean I want to see the movie with them. That means the Dad should say, “Ingrate, let me speak to your mother. Mother, how is the Ingrate feeling?” This is where I’d say, “He’s feeling better but he’s still not 100% and the last thing he needs is to be at a movie theater AT MIDNIGHT on a school night.”

But you see, it never goes like this. It’s always put on me to be the bad guy. Dad is the fun guy. Dad is the guy that says he can’t pick M up yesterday because “he can’t afford to get sick.” Mom is the one that gets told, “I hate being at your house!”

I’m over it. No, really. It hurt to hear him say it but what bothered me more is this is just the tip of the iceberg, people! I can’t even imagine the things the ungrateful Ingrate will be saying at 13, 16, 18 - and then maybe at 21 he’ll be on TV and yell into the camera, “I love you, Mom!” Tsk. Kids.

I got tagged by a couple people this week. First, Melinda. Music’s not my strong suit, sorry. *blush* Hehe.

01. Total volume of music files on my computer?
None, I reformatted. Gone, all gone.
02. The last CD I bought was?
The CDs I picked out via Margaret’s birthday gift card. Thanks again, M! The Commodores are still getting heavy play and I think R was eyeing Brandy’s Greatest Hits. Yes, you were, R!
03. Song playing right now:
Salsa music playing on Single in the City: South Beach
04. Five songs I listen to a lot or that mean a lot to me:
Oh God. I have to think of 5? Off the top of my head? Just like that?!
Black Balloon - Goo Goo Dolls
Ummmm what else? I’ll think of more later.
05. Which 5 people are you passing this baton to, and why?
Oh I don’t knoowwww. You, you, you, you and I can’t forget you! Because I love you allll.

From Jazz:

10 Things I Love

1. Java
2. OPB - Other People’s Blogs. I don’t care much for mine anymore.
3. Single in the City on WE. Shit is addictive.
4. Fridays so I can see what new movies are playing on PPV
5. How supportive R is. R in general.
6. Losing weight.
7. Being a mom. Sometimes.
8. Good food, good wine, good company
9. Baseball
10. Houseful of food. It makes me happy.

And just because I’m on a roll, I stole this from Dan.

Five Things People Like That I Don’t Get:

1. That movie I mentioned that fractured my familial ties. I mean, I watched them when I was little but the furor and uproar, me no get.

2. Veal. Do you know that’s a little baby cow?

3. The Designated Hitter. The American League in general.

4. Those diet commercials (I’m Dr. Greg Cyna.moun or If you’re 10-15 pounds overweight, these pills are NOT for you) that say they work best with diet and exercise. Hmm. If I was on a diet and I exercised, what the hell I need your stupid pills for? But obviously people buy and LOVE these magic pills of wonder to inflate these companies advertising budgets to such proportions they run their ads 1239243 times a day. (I counted.)

5. B.ritney and K.evin. Just as annoying as I thought they’d be. Oh wait, does anyone actually like them?