Category: social

on clumsiness and being a puppy at the park: a recap of the weekend

It finally happened. I fell down my own stairs. Let me give you some background. Remember in the blog I wrote about being a Sagittarius, I said I was clumsy? That’s not a joke, people. I am the running joke amongst the crew for my graceless escapades, however. I fall up stairs, I fall down stairs, I walk

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floam vs chia pet

I hate marketers that make commercials that make The Kid bug me to buy stuff. I really do. Because when you see his big blue eyes telling you that he “absolutely haaaaaaaas to have something, so SERIOUS, mom!” and you have to say, “I would rather shove splinters under my fingernails than buy something like that which

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velvet curtains, a would-be plumber, and a new word for the 2N lexicon

Well, team…I had hoped to return from adventures in Seattle (which I did enjoy very much, thanks!) with many fun stories to share. Yet sadly, the only thing of note to report is that the bathrooms in the High Dive are quite unique, with velvet curtains instead of walls, and I fixed the toilet for

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excerpts from the women’s bathroom

Okay, two things. One, I’m not drunk now, but I was earlier, and just the memory is enough to make me giddy. Two, that being the case, this will be a short one. I need water, sleep, and a little sumpin’ sumpin’ if you know what I’m saying. Not necessarily in that order. For those that

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discussions with the Kid: on ovaries and boogers

I have discovered that the Kid will be an awesome blogger as he gets older. He never stops talking. It’s like this constant stream of random, five-year-old consciousness coming from him. When it’s not inane questions about things (why, why, why…?) then it’s not-so-educated discourse on where sneezes come from, who I’m going to get married

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alcohol + tanning = ewwwwww

I have a good story to share today. But first I will describe my day, just the highlights: Apparently, per my son, I have been pronouncing “butt-whoopin’” all wrong all this time. It is in actuality, “whoop-buttin’”. Noted. I am a magnet for guys looking for trashy women. Today’s hall-of-famer Cletus The Eternal Optimist, age 20,

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a typical sunday…abstinence is for assholes

7:26 AM: Realize that the wet drip, drip drip on my face is not in fact the result of fantabulously-hot-dream-guy’s unrestrainble passion for me, but instead the slimy output of my dog’s panting tongue. He’s staring soulfully into my eyes in a mute attempt to warn me that if I don’t get up ASAP I

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