Okay, so today has been a rough one for me thus far. It started with almost getting hit by this dumb bitch in my kids school parking lot. Seriously, if your going to drive like that then leave your house on time. Needless to say I was pissed and wanted to rip her out of her car and beat her ass with a smart stick, but alas I know it would do no good. After all there is no cure for stupidity. If there were, then we'd all be happier. That's not even the just of my morning.
Next stop (and more importantly the point of rant today) the bank. I was there a little early, so I thought I'd be smart and just make an ATM deposit. Should have been the quicker way, right? Obviously with me, NO! I swear some days when I wake up I think there's little demons that purposely plan how they are going to fuck up my day. Anyway, back to my point. Standing in front of the shiny box I looked as confused as a gay man trying to go down on a woman! There were no envelopes. How the hell are you suppose to make a deposit with no envelopes????
Well, as you can imagine, I was pissed. I was literally the crazy woman standing in front of the machine yelling at it, "Where the hell are the envelopes!" Needless to say the lady standing next to me finished her transaction and all but ran to her car. Meanwhile, back on the crazy farm that is Christine my temper was flaring and my confusion was overwhelming me. Finally, after searching I gave up on the damn envelopes. Annoyed and defeated, I went back into my car.
Sitting in my car, I caught sight of probably the only thing that would make me smile thus far. In the car across from me was an older lady. The longer I looked at her the more interested I became. She was chewing a piece of gum. I know that doesn't sound interesting, but trust me it was a priceless moment in my world! Picture a horse chewing hay and you'll come close to my visual. All I can say is I see one of the reasons the phrase "Gum Job" is appealing.
Okay, enough about my inappropriate Cloris Leachman moment. The bank finally opened and I was able to do what I had come to do. Patiently, I filled out my deposit slip and waited in line. Thankfully, there was only the grandma making love to her gum and me, so didn't take too long. When I got up to the window I was finally able to seek an answer to the mysterious envelope fatality.
If you know me, then you know I pretty blunt. So, I just asked the chick, "Am I retarded, cause I couldn't find any damn envelopes in your ATM's?" She smiled and said,"We don't use envelopes anymore." I could tell she was trying to hold in, what I can only imagine was gut busting laughter, bu held it in. Then the light bulb went off. And yes in Christine style, I looked at the lady and replied, "So, I just stand in front of the big shiny box and shove it in your slot?" That's when she about fell out of her chair and I heard the guy behind me start snorting in laughter. Yeah, I felt vindicated after that:) So, I gave her a smile and went back to my car.
And that is my very first (of many more I'm sure) senior moment. (God help the rest of you, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!) I couldn't help, but laugh. It's be nice if they had pictures for more retarded folk, such as am I. And that is a typical morning in the life of me. Next time your at the ATM, you bet your ass you'll know where to insert your deposit! The moral of the story is don't ever underestimate the power of a simple box!
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Measure up!
You know, it'd be nice if every store practiced the same form of sizing. If your a mom, then you know the importance of shopping online. I've tried taking my children with me and it just doesn't work. It's like taking a nun to a strip club. There's just too much going on and you can't afford to waste time. With two hyper and screaming children, I tend to shop when they're at school. But not every mom has that luxury and this limits our time frame of when we can get clothes.
Like every mom my time is a precious and valuable commodity. We're like a priest with an altar boy, we only have a certain window of opportunity to get shit done. Shopping should be fun, but also easy. Once you know what size you wear, it should be easy to shop from any store whether in person or online, right? Wrong.
In these tough times, cost is an issue on where we spend our hard earned dollar. I mean, I can't see blowing $50 bucks or more on a single piece of clothing when I can get 5 pieces for the same price. Unfortunately, this leaves us shopping at places that are on what I like to call, the Asian sizing system. Don't get me wrong, I love my Asian Persuasion friends, you know who you are! It's just not all of us are built like a little girl. This creates another problem for me, because I have hips. Yes, women with curves get screwed again!
This little snafu in turn causes us to spend hours in a dressing room trying on clothes and almost always 2 of every item, just to figure out what size will fit you. I don't know about you, but to me dressing rooms are the equivalent to an Jewish prison for me. You locked inside this tiny room for hours with nothing but a giant mirror in front of you and sweating your ass off! Plus, you get the unfortunate reminder that things usually look better on the mannequin than on you. Story of my life!
After you've finished sweating you feel like an utter failure. Out of that mountainous pile of clothing you brought in with you, not one damn piece of clothing fits worth a crap. This is something I know all too well. In turn, this is one of many reasons why I prefer to shop online. Lets not over look the fact that it's also extremely coconvenient. But this brings me back to my point, what do I do order 2 of every item I want to insure I get the right size? Then take or send the others back? This is more of a hassle than it should be.
Another problem with our sizing system is the fact that we let men design the clothing. I'm sorry, I don't know about you, but who knows a woman's body better than a woman! That's exactly why I prefer a woman Gyno! Anyway back to my point. Most men (and to be fair for you Heather lesbians are in the same category:) want a Pam Anderson body, which means when they design clothes, that's what they're picturing when making our clothes. I find this so annoying. I mean I love my husband, but I don't want him designing my clothes. That would be like me telling him to bend over and cough. I mean it'd be fun, but I'm not a doctor I wouldn't know what the hell I'm doing.
Okay, I think I've tortured with my incoherent babbling long enough. And I think I've made my point. If I go on any longer, it'll be like beating a dead horse. I will only end my random rant on this note. Next time your shopping think about this, who the hell did the sizing and will it measure up correctly?
Like every mom my time is a precious and valuable commodity. We're like a priest with an altar boy, we only have a certain window of opportunity to get shit done. Shopping should be fun, but also easy. Once you know what size you wear, it should be easy to shop from any store whether in person or online, right? Wrong.
In these tough times, cost is an issue on where we spend our hard earned dollar. I mean, I can't see blowing $50 bucks or more on a single piece of clothing when I can get 5 pieces for the same price. Unfortunately, this leaves us shopping at places that are on what I like to call, the Asian sizing system. Don't get me wrong, I love my Asian Persuasion friends, you know who you are! It's just not all of us are built like a little girl. This creates another problem for me, because I have hips. Yes, women with curves get screwed again!
This little snafu in turn causes us to spend hours in a dressing room trying on clothes and almost always 2 of every item, just to figure out what size will fit you. I don't know about you, but to me dressing rooms are the equivalent to an Jewish prison for me. You locked inside this tiny room for hours with nothing but a giant mirror in front of you and sweating your ass off! Plus, you get the unfortunate reminder that things usually look better on the mannequin than on you. Story of my life!
After you've finished sweating you feel like an utter failure. Out of that mountainous pile of clothing you brought in with you, not one damn piece of clothing fits worth a crap. This is something I know all too well. In turn, this is one of many reasons why I prefer to shop online. Lets not over look the fact that it's also extremely coconvenient. But this brings me back to my point, what do I do order 2 of every item I want to insure I get the right size? Then take or send the others back? This is more of a hassle than it should be.
Another problem with our sizing system is the fact that we let men design the clothing. I'm sorry, I don't know about you, but who knows a woman's body better than a woman! That's exactly why I prefer a woman Gyno! Anyway back to my point. Most men (and to be fair for you Heather lesbians are in the same category:) want a Pam Anderson body, which means when they design clothes, that's what they're picturing when making our clothes. I find this so annoying. I mean I love my husband, but I don't want him designing my clothes. That would be like me telling him to bend over and cough. I mean it'd be fun, but I'm not a doctor I wouldn't know what the hell I'm doing.
Okay, I think I've tortured with my incoherent babbling long enough. And I think I've made my point. If I go on any longer, it'll be like beating a dead horse. I will only end my random rant on this note. Next time your shopping think about this, who the hell did the sizing and will it measure up correctly?
Saturday, February 19, 2011
MAN-urisms!
I was driving around the other day when I noticed something funny. (Yes, I know it's scary what I find funny, but shut it smart ass.) Back to the point I'm getting at. I was stopped at a signal and both the cars next to me had male drivers. I know that's not that exciting, but not done yet. Since, the signal took forever to change, I had plenty of time to absorb in my surroundings. Not sure if allowing me that much time to absorb in anything is a good idea. Because this causes my brain to think and well, here we are.
Moving along with the point of my blog today. Have you ever noticed ALL men have the same body language when they drive?? Both of these guys had one hand dangling over the steering wheel, while the other was resting against their face like they're deep in thought. I busted out laughing like a whore in church because every single guy I know does this. It's like they're lost deep in thought while they're sitting in traffic.
Moving along with the point of my blog today. Have you ever noticed ALL men have the same body language when they drive?? Both of these guys had one hand dangling over the steering wheel, while the other was resting against their face like they're deep in thought. I busted out laughing like a whore in church because every single guy I know does this. It's like they're lost deep in thought while they're sitting in traffic.
Friday, February 18, 2011
You say BA I say BS!!!!!
Today might as well have been a Friday the 13th for me. Helping out in Tyler’s class today, I had no idea what I was in for. Some district employees need to have a bolt of friendliness shoved up their asses and strangled with anal beads of love. And that’s just what I wanted to do to my children’s lunch lady today.I honestly don’t know how some grumpy assholes can be allowed to work with children.
I don’t think it’s that hard to stop chatting about Bridalplasty or the latest item Lindsey stole to do your job. Apparently for this bitch today, it was. She’s lucky I was at my kids school, because I was two seconds away from yanking her hair net off her head and slamming her face into the floor. Trust me I wanted to, but Dickish lunch ladies I can handle.
What I can’t handle is the overpaid substitute teachers who come in and get paid to sit on their asses, while I run the class. I volunteer to help out for my child because he loves and in turn I have gotten to know the children well. This doesn’t mean that since I am there and I know the kids and the routine that the sub can expect me to do the work. I don’t know why, but this shit happens to me every time I have had to deal with a sub.
The district likes to call them guest teachers, but let’s just call most of them (Not you Shannon) what they are. Overpaid babysitters, who wouldn’t know how to run a classroom if it shit on their faces. I mean I think a nun has a better shot at being a hooker than these people have of ever setting foot in a classroom. And the scary part is that our children are being left in the care of these overgrown self-indulgent idiots!
At this point in reading I am sure you’re saying, “Well, then get a substitute teaching job and stop complaining.” Well, let me be the first to enlighten you on that little journey I have been on. See in order to sub in a classroom, the school district’s think you need a BA degree. But as I found out the hard way, if you go to a private POS school such as Westwood like I did, then your screwed. Because what these money hungry sharks like to leave pout certain little facts. For instance, if you go to a school that’s Nationally Accredited IE: Westwood you can’t use your BA degree for anything other than toilet paper. Oh no, the schools will only accept degrees from colleges like VVC that are Regionally Accredited.
What the fuck is the difference you ask? I wished I knew. I have spent many hours researching to find this answer only to come up empty. The only thing I’ve managed to concur from this is that is just another way for them to screw you over. Because apparently taking up it the ass with tuition costs isn’t enough.
I however, don’t even think degrees make any difference. Just because someone has graduated college doesn’t mean they know what the fuck they’re doing. It only means they went through the classes to get the degree. It’s retarded to think for all we know they could have made it through just by blowing their instructors and yet since they have that damn paper, they can be allowed to watch over our children in school. They say BA required, I say BULL SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!
I don’t think it’s that hard to stop chatting about Bridalplasty or the latest item Lindsey stole to do your job. Apparently for this bitch today, it was. She’s lucky I was at my kids school, because I was two seconds away from yanking her hair net off her head and slamming her face into the floor. Trust me I wanted to, but Dickish lunch ladies I can handle.
What I can’t handle is the overpaid substitute teachers who come in and get paid to sit on their asses, while I run the class. I volunteer to help out for my child because he loves and in turn I have gotten to know the children well. This doesn’t mean that since I am there and I know the kids and the routine that the sub can expect me to do the work. I don’t know why, but this shit happens to me every time I have had to deal with a sub.
The district likes to call them guest teachers, but let’s just call most of them (Not you Shannon) what they are. Overpaid babysitters, who wouldn’t know how to run a classroom if it shit on their faces. I mean I think a nun has a better shot at being a hooker than these people have of ever setting foot in a classroom. And the scary part is that our children are being left in the care of these overgrown self-indulgent idiots!
At this point in reading I am sure you’re saying, “Well, then get a substitute teaching job and stop complaining.” Well, let me be the first to enlighten you on that little journey I have been on. See in order to sub in a classroom, the school district’s think you need a BA degree. But as I found out the hard way, if you go to a private POS school such as Westwood like I did, then your screwed. Because what these money hungry sharks like to leave pout certain little facts. For instance, if you go to a school that’s Nationally Accredited IE: Westwood you can’t use your BA degree for anything other than toilet paper. Oh no, the schools will only accept degrees from colleges like VVC that are Regionally Accredited.
What the fuck is the difference you ask? I wished I knew. I have spent many hours researching to find this answer only to come up empty. The only thing I’ve managed to concur from this is that is just another way for them to screw you over. Because apparently taking up it the ass with tuition costs isn’t enough.
I however, don’t even think degrees make any difference. Just because someone has graduated college doesn’t mean they know what the fuck they’re doing. It only means they went through the classes to get the degree. It’s retarded to think for all we know they could have made it through just by blowing their instructors and yet since they have that damn paper, they can be allowed to watch over our children in school. They say BA required, I say BULL SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Inflation
So, yesterday Madison went down to her uncle Harry's to have him pull out her loose tooth. Yes, she's had that sucker in there for months and wouldn't let us touch it. We tried waiting till she was asleep, but like a ticking time bomb she would wake up. Thankfully, she let uncle Harry do it.
Anyways back to the point I'm getting at. She comes home with her tooth all nestled neatly inside one of those tooth shaped boxes. Yes, she was super stoked. (If that's all it took to get her damn tooth out, then I'll gladly stock up on those.) This morning when I woke up I heard her tell her dad she was upset that she forgot to put it under her pillow. And that got me thinking. Mistake, I know.
Not sure about you, but my kids get $5 a tooth. Can you imagine? For that much a tooth, I'll pull out all my own damn teeth. Don't know about you, but my tooth fairy must've been on welfare. Because I got 4 quarters per tooth. It's nice to know in this sluggish economy that some people aren't affected and can still give. Guess the bitch figures since cost of living has gone up, the price per tooth should????
Anyways back to the point I'm getting at. She comes home with her tooth all nestled neatly inside one of those tooth shaped boxes. Yes, she was super stoked. (If that's all it took to get her damn tooth out, then I'll gladly stock up on those.) This morning when I woke up I heard her tell her dad she was upset that she forgot to put it under her pillow. And that got me thinking. Mistake, I know.
Not sure about you, but my kids get $5 a tooth. Can you imagine? For that much a tooth, I'll pull out all my own damn teeth. Don't know about you, but my tooth fairy must've been on welfare. Because I got 4 quarters per tooth. It's nice to know in this sluggish economy that some people aren't affected and can still give. Guess the bitch figures since cost of living has gone up, the price per tooth should????
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