Sunday, February 13, 2011

I Have Commitment Issues

You know, in case you hadn't noticed. Seriously though, life has been one chaotic shit storm after another. And like the good little Pisces that I am, when the going gets tough, I amp up the escapism. So I have spent the past couple of months immersed in one obsession after another, doing my damnedest to avoid real life. Reading (a dozen or so books since we last met), movies (not as many of these as I'd like), TV(the latest obsession: 5 seasons of Supernatural in just under 2 weeks), music (whatever, whenever, wherever), creeping you on Facebook (no worries, my stalker is well fed). You name it, nothing really productive, just whatever it takes.

My 14 year old daughter is trying on every teenage stereotype in existence. So far, we haven't killed each other, but we've come close once or twice. My husband may run screaming, so much are the estrogen and stubborn. Or he may end up killing us both. No judge would convict him. Just in case you read that last paragraph in a literal sense instead of heaped in sarcasm, as it was meant to be read; I love my daughter dearly, but, wow! Were we all like this? Jesus, we were unbearable!

Female Rep hockey is the bane of my existence. That's all I got to say on that subject. For now.

The month of January, 2011 has done little else except convince me that it is indeed a fabulous idea to retire in a warmer location. You know what? Why wait, I say we relocate! Holy Snow, Batman!

Finally, I will be 33 in a couple of weeks. I think I may be having trouble dealing. Yeah. I hate to say it, because 30 came and went and I was a cucumber. But I'm staring down the barrel of 33 and feeling a little shit balls retarded. If I were a dude, I'd trade my new car in for an older, sportier model, like this:

Or I'd trade my hubby in for a younger, newer model. No, never mind, I don't think I would. I don't have the patience for that. Besides, younger men kind of seem like they may be a little too metro for me. I like my men, well, manly. If you've used more wax than I have since the new year or you've got your hair stylist on speed dial, you need not apply.

Aaaand, I've just proved that I am indeed old. Just shoot me now.

Anyway, Imma try to pay more attention to my little slice of Internet heaven.


  1. Ack! Adolescent females...they are um...difficult. You will survive, and so will she, I promise. And yes, we were really that bad when we were 14.

  2. I have good news and bad news. The good news is she will grow out of it. Around 16 they seem to get more human again. The bad news is that until then (and maybe for a year or two after) she will test your patience, sanity and even your willpower (you know that thing that keeps you from slapping the living shit out of her). Been there. Survived.

    I know exactly how you've been feeling, me too. Nice to see you back on the webz.


  3. Doth mine eyes deceive me?? Is it really you? OMG! I had to do a double take up in mah reader!

    I'm thinking that my precious (or is that precocious?) 8 year old may offer up new levels in parental insanity in the coming years ... she's started so young, driving me to my brink. I live in fear.

    On your birthday dilemma ... BITE ME!!! I just turned 38 and you can KISS MAH GRITS!!

    Love and kisses,

    PS - missed you.

  4. Thank you, ladies. I do know that eventually she will be a wonderful person again, but sometimes I have a hard time remembering it. I also doubt my ability to make it out alive. It's a wonder more parents don't just keel over. The stress is ridiculous. And no, I'm not at all high strung ;)