Because it’s still Monday somewhere. I think.

January 13, 2009

Ah friends, it’s not you. It’s me. I think I have something chronic that sucks all my energy away. I mean besides the Turnip. Anyway, the gloriously revered Madame Fabu bestowed a tremendous favor upon me yesterday (saving me at least two hours and sizable grief and anxiety out of my day) so I promised I’d blog for her pleasure.

Speaking of the turnip. Project normal sleep pattern is a colossal FAIL. I was lying to myself and saying it was just the weekend that threw him off until he woke me up at 1am today by poking me with the laser tag gun saying “You took my teddy, Now me goings shoot you.” and laughing maniacally.

I confess I did not watch the Golden Globes. I don’t usually watch those shows (except for the Oscars which is more about socializing with my cousin litchick and our friends Sherman and Ray. Sherm, if you are reading this, I’m still committed to our Oscar musical number involving Winnie the Pooh characters on ice. I think we are onto something groundbreaking with it…). However, the post-Golden Globe buzz on twitter (ok pretty much since i only follow a handful of people, the buzz consisted of twitters from my cyber-stalkee Trelvix and my beloved Lucy) indicated that Mickey Rourke was not the hip happenin’ comeback kid that the IMDB has been implying as of late (I think Trelvix best captured the essence of what’s become of the man with “I took a crap and Mickey Rourke was in it. I wrote the part for Nicolas Cage but we could never agree on a believable toupĂ©e for the turd.” and “This probably won’t come up but – just in case – my safe word for today is “Mangina O’Rourke”)

Friends, I’m embarrassed to admit this but The Crseum is nothing if not about full disclosure (when I feel like disclosing that is). I had a horrible crush on Mickey Rourke back in the day. “But Crse! He’s hideous!” you are probably exclaiming right now. True dat, gentle readers, and for those of you younger folks, don’t bother google imaging him. He’s always been hideous. But by unfortunate chance, I happened to become sexually aware about the time the movie “9 1/2 weeks” came out. I won’t go into graphic details about how the movie played into my first disturbing forays into sexual experimentation (in the context of a relationship that should have probably ended with me pressing charges but that’s neither here nor there) but I will say this; I thought the movie was so hot at the time that the male lead could have been played by a plastic faced clownish looking man and it still would have been hot (oh wait, it was played by that guy…).

I could blame the crush entirely on 9.5 weeks, but then friends? Then came my next phase of sexual identity development. As summed up in the movie “Barfly”. Because where does a healthy red-blooded American girl go after being psycho-sexually manipulated? How the hell would I know where she goes? My particular brand of dysfunction, however, led me directly to the brilliant and witty, yet completely falling apart and emotionally unavailable alcoholic. In my defense friends, it was “what we did” in my social circle (Can I get a whoo-whoo on this Luckybuzz? Lainie? Roxie? ) My friends and I, we all had our Charles Bukowskis back in the day. Different ones for the most part. (Friends familiar with My Town know that there is no shortage of underachieving brilliance wrapped up in hot little packages of self-loathing here in my city and surrounding burbs.) Anyway, at the time, I saw absolutely no correlation between my romantic choices and the way Mickey Rourke still managed to look (in my opinion) sexy and piss-stained all at once. I went through an absolute “Barfly” phase friends. I could recite Faye Dunaway’s lines ad nauseum. (And “fortunately” for Luckybuzz, I did).

Mickey Rourke dropped off the radar about the time I met Gill. Ah friends, we did try to bring him into the relationship. We rented “Wild Orchids” and “Angel Heart” (and Lucy I agree, Lisa Bonet did indeed carry him in that film!) and Im sure we “enjoyed” them both. Still, he had no context in our world. We were getting married, he was being arrested for spousal abuse. We were pursuing educations, he was making direct to video films. We were raising our little family, he was being arrested for DUIs. Now, when I look at Mickey Rourke, all I see that turdish mangina as described by M. Trelvix.

I guess you could say that I was lucky he did fade lest I find another repugnant character of his to model my sexual ideals after, thus missing out on my chance at a (relatively) sane happily ever after with Gill. I don’t see it like that however. In fact, the megalomaniac in me can’t help but wonder if somehow my withdrawal of devotion ultimately did lead to the trainwreck he called a career (and let’s face it, personal life) in the 90s. You know, like the butterfly effect? Of course, we’ll never know but in any case? You are welcome for that America.

Anyway, it’s time to face the day. I still mean to blog about my CPR class last week. Because it’s not often I get to watch a large woman wearing far too much yellow feel herself up in front of a room full of people after snubbing me repeatedly only to realize that ultimately she had a girl-crush on me the whole time. Oh yes friends, I still haz it….


School kind of sucks

September 4, 2007

Seriously.

Friends, Ive been remiss in keeping you posted about the little personal nightmares brewing in my day to day life. I really need to be better about this because such omissions leave you no context whatsoever when the overloaded chamber pot that is my job (family, parenting skill level, financial situation, personal relationship network etc) spills out and leaves us all wallowing in a huge flood of shit. My job you say? Why yes, and if you guessed this has to do with our sweet old friend Perfect Storm . (note this link is only the tip of the PS iceburg. For a true history just search the term in my blog search engine) then you would be right. The good news is that we are away from the Legion of Doom and are back in her home district. The bad news is that I am now spending every waking moment of the school day (not including my tardiness)(or leaving early) (or being able to skip out for “legitimate” excuses)with our little sweet heart.

Why you ask? Well friends, this would be because the front line worker lined up for this position embarrassed us both at the school meeting, causing the school to “request” that she be taken off the case. I wanted to object friends, I really did. I wanted to say that she just didnt do well at meetings. Truth be told gentle readers? I had my suspicions. She seemed to become a little ….obsessed..with me. After she found out I was supervising her, Id catch her staring at me to the point of awkwardness. Now generally, you know I am a gracious recipient of girl crushes friends. After all, who can blame the poor lost souls who get swept away by the ocean of beauty and charm that is crse? (and trust me I do tend to attract Poor. Lost. Souls.) But she not only crossed into creepy? But she also had the AUDACITY to generalize her obsessive stares to anyone connected with the case! HELLO??? If you are going to girlcrush on me? Please be consistent if you want me to deign you with offhanded gestures of attention ok? Otherwise it means NOTHING.

But I digress. Long story short? (too late you think? Ah but no, it actually was a much much longer story involving my cleavage/whimsical pants strategy and a cross-eyed unjustifiably cocky psychologist along with other plot points) There was nobody to replace shallow stalker girl and here i am. Lonnie Manko is being totally cool about letting me provide as much service as I can to PS because really? She has a good chance of succeeding this time. So thats the good news. And the bad news. Today was kind of mild with only one mishap involving her molesting the class guinea pig. I did not know guinea pigs made noises like that.

Norm started kindergarten today. He did well. I did ok. Up until he told me that the afternoon teacher was “kind of mad at him” which led to me calling her and thus identifying myself as “that mom”. Well she denied anything happened but Im hoping i scared her straight. Ok too tired to talk/post pictures. This may have been the rambliest post ever but friends, fifth grade made me her bitch today.


The ugly season

November 25, 2006


Well my friends, Thanksgiving has come and gone. Lovely day despite a somewhat unfortunate encounter with the bonsai’s least favorite aunt, who i suspect has a girl crush on me. (dont believe me? lets review the list shall we?: Is she manly? check. Did she leave her husband for another woman in the 90s and then get back together with him? check. Does she prolongingly look at my breasts and extend eye contact? check. Is she not even remotely attractive? Check. Is she hostile towards Gill? Check.) Needless to say, the bonsai threw me under the bus on this one and nobody else thought twice about leaving me there. I was a trooper friends. I took the hits and still managed to avoid the boob crushing hug at the end.

Id like to say that this encounter was responsible for what transpired later that evening but I would be lying. Truth be told, thanksgiving night was actually the beginning of what I have come to think of as “the ugly season”. In the next six weeks, there will be a flurry of parties and occasions that will require your host to get stupid ugly drunk. And I am prepared to live up to this expectation. Here are some highlights from thursday night.

-after being dropped off at the bar, one of the first people I saw was a woman from my past whose car I didnt “technically” steal. It was more like a joyride. She hates me friends.

-needless to say this led me to overindulge in the vodka right away.

-which led me to behave like a lunatic on the dance floor

-and force my cousin to slow dance with me (she was ok with it. she is no stranger to drunk crse)

– and drink more.

– and inadvertently buy a shot for a man I loathe because I was politely asking him if he needed to get closer to the bar. (Folks, sometimes drunk crse is not my friend)

-and start a conversation with someone else who NONE of my friends ever liked.

-and drunk dial several friends who were not there to tell them I was hanging out with the person I forgot we dont like to get them to come out and see the person we didnt really care for.

-and possibly hit on my friend’s brother. (when you get onto topics like swinging and you are drunk and trying to affirming, well…it could go either way)

Ok well thats enough highlights. Might as well pace this as we have several more events to look forward to.

The aftermath wasnt pretty friends. And Im not ready to talk about it. Until we went to Madame Fabu’s mother for dinner last night, the day was a blur of me on the couch trapped in a flinstone’s marathon encouraging my children to snack on whatever they could reach in lieu of actual meals. Its going to be a long holiday season my friends.