Random Tuesday Thoughts: The thing about double consonants

Let's get Random, bitches!!!


I started a new job last Friday. The place is freaking amazing. They have a gym, a Wii, a massage therapist (twice a week), a week off between Christmas and New Years, casual Friday every day, people bring their dogs in to work (see photo to the right of me and my boss's yorkie, Cooper), floating holidays, Summer Fridays and a laid back attitude that basically says "As long as you're here when you need to be and you get your shit done, we don't give a shit." I fucking love my job!

The following words are banned from public use until The Kid gets his double consonants figured out:


They usually come out as something different and derogatory.

My dog is not happy about me going back to work. To demonstrate how upset he is, he refuses to let me leave the room without following me close enough to step on the back of my flip flop, he whines when I'm not in the same room as him and when I am, he stands in front of me panting heavily so as to make sure I never forget the sweet aroma of Blue Buffalo Basics Salmon and Sweet Potato Formula.

I had multiple orgasms on Saturday.  More on that tomorrow.  I promise!

I hate it when video games have absurdly long introductions that you can't skip.  I don't really play them but Hubby does and it makes me crazy.

I think I'm getting my blogging mojo back after losing it for about 2 years.  My clue was that I started thinking to myself "I should blog about that".

That's all for my randomness today.  Peace.  I'm out.



A Glimpse into the Future

For the most part I can say that my son is potty trained. He was past his third birthday before he started going on the potty, but he does now and that's all that matters. Except for the fact that he won't poop on the potty. If he has to go, he comes to me and asks me to put a diaper on him then heads to his corner to do his business.

Today he went to go poop and got upset because there were too many toys and he couldn't get to his corner. I told him to just go to the other corner. Where is he now? He's standing at his play tool bench with his hands on the bench and his legs spread apart, leaning down like he just got pulled over and is being searched. I can't help but wonder if this is a glimpse into his future.

Could a mother's hopes for a medical degree from Stanford be completely destroyed by the image of her toddler posed for a body search?

I'm going to go have a drink now.


I Must be Speaking Swahili

How many different ways can I say it?

"Do not throw the ball in the house."

"Do not bounce the ball in the house."

"Do not kick the ball in the house."

"Do not smack the ball with a bat in the house."

"Do not smack the ball with a tennis racket in the house."

"Do not expel any inanimate object from your person with any measurable force or momentum."

Is that clear? Or should I be learning another language in order to communicate with my three year old? Would clicks and squeaks be more effective?


Move Aside, Fiona!

Yesterday we went to my father's house for dinner. Nothing special, just dinner and drinks with the family. So about an hour or so before we left I started getting ready. I showered, I got dressed, I put on my deodorant. Then I combed my hair, brushed my teeth and started putting on make up. When I was done, I blow dried my hair and pulled out my flat iron. At which point, the following conversation ensued:

Hubby: "You know we're just going to your dad's, right?"
Me: "Yes, but I never get out anymore so I decided to look somewhat presentable." Hubby: "It's not that big of a deal."
Me: "I know."

My interpretation of this conversation went something like this."

Hubby: "What the hell are you doing?"
Me: "Trying not to look like an ogre."
Hubby: "Why?"
Me: "Because I feel like an ogre."
Hubby: "Well I'm used to you looking like an ogre."
Me: "Fuck you."
Hubby: "No thanks, you look like an ogre."


I Hate My Hair

But really, who doesn't?

Every time I see a commercial for a shampoo/conditioner that promises fuller, bouncier hair I want to throw something through my television.  And if it weren't for the inevitable divorce that would follow, I probably would have by now.

Why all this animosity towards hair commercials, you're asking?  Cleverly, they are marketing to people like me who have fine, unmanageable hair. OF COURSE we are going to be lured in by the promises of luscious locks! But without fail, I spend the money, wash/rinse/repeat, attempt to style my hair and the end result is the same. Flat, unmanageable, ugly hair. Which always ends up in a pony tail within an hour. After trying everything from salon brands to grocery brands, I'm convinced that every single shampoo/conditioner is exactly the same. They just smell different.

If you have any suggestions that you feel (based on personal experience) would help me in my hair debacle, please let me know.

And to all those companies who have duped me into buying their products, bite me.  That is all.


I've Been Dooced

If you're a blogger, you know who Heather Armstrong is and you probably know the definition of "Dooce".

Well, on April 30th I was Dooced.  They told me it was "due to the economy" (read: "We really needed an excuse to let you go and these days the economy is a pretty good scapegoat").  I'm not entirely convinced that it wasn't at least partly due to this post, which I have republished for you entertainment purposes.  And while I do have regrets about not telling my former employer to go fuck themselves in a rant reminiscent of "Half Baked", I have no regrets about writing that post.  In fact, I'm quite proud of it!

Either way, being laid off has it's advantages.  Mainly, it was an escape from the fiery pits of hell that came with severance pay and unemployment benefits.  Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be a leach on our government and I would love to land a decent job.  In fact, I send out about 10 resumes every day, but ITE (In This Economy) that's just about as effective as telling an interviewer to kiss your ass. 

Anyway, here's my Top Ten list of things that I have noticed since my layoff.

1.  Unemployment is awesome for my tan.
2.  Unemployment allows more time for me to work on my muffin top.
3.  My brown thumb is now green.
4.  My house is perfect organized clean cleaner now that I'm home.
5.  I have more time to blog with my kids.
6.  I can stay up past my bedtime since I don't have to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn.
7.  MuffinTopDaddy is probably happier that I don't have to be up at the ass-crack of dawn (hint, hint, wink, wink).
8.  I have memorized the opening theme song (and many of the episodes) of the entire Nick Jr. line up.
9.  It only takes 3 weeks of being home with a toddler and a baby before you start to lose your mind.
10.  It only takes 4 for it to be completely gone.

Now if I could only start to make some money from blogging, I would be all set! Maybe I can be the next Heather Armstrong.  Maybe not.


Top 10 Thing I Learned at Work

There are some things in life that can't be taught. You have to learn them through experience.

These are the top ten things I learned at work.

1. Never underestimate the douche-baggery of the company you work for.

2. Or the douche bags who run it.

3. Personal days are only to be used at the discretion and convenience of the company you work for.

4. Sick days are not to be used when you are sick. They are only to be used when you are dead. For at least 6 hours. Make sure you call in before you die to let them know.

5. If you come in early or stay late, it will not be acknowledged or recognized in any form. At all.

6. If you come in or leave on time, it will be held against you and reflected in your review and your raise.

7. Do not expect a raise or a bonus, regardless of what your manager, their manager or their manager's manager has promised you.

8. If you take any time off, it will be held against you. This includes time off for disability, maternity leave, care of family or bereavement. Or if you die. You will be written up for dying without proper notice.

9. Satan is a woman.

10. She lives and works in New Jersey.