An Open Letter

Dear Christmas (and intrepid sidekick Winter Snow),

It was not too long ago that I would eagerly anticipate your

arrival and, by the same token find myself to be crestfallen

when it was time for you to take your sabbatical from

our lives. But, for some time now I have found you to be

extremely tiresome and to have permanently worn out

your welcome. I feel I would be remiss if I did not; with

the same enthusiasm with which I used to herald your

arrival, invite you(and usual accoutrement) to jump up my

flabby white butt.

With fervent hope that you be immediately replaced with

Valentine's Day and a cooling Autumn rain forever-

Sincerely,

your former friend-Shauna

Update

Well, when life knocks you down and kicks you in the teeth with it's steel toed boots and then stomps on your kidney when you roll over-you don't get your blog updated because you are too busy spitting blood out onto the pavement. So-I am updating my blog for all of the naggers out there(Emily). Life sucks and then you die. Usually slowly and painfully and with poop in your pants because nobody will help you to the bathroom and with no pain meds to help you through because you are too poor to buy any and County General kicked you out and won't give you any more. So there.

Um

Um, well, I don't exactly know how to tell you this but-I ate a whole package of Starburst for breakfast. While listening to Roxette and Sir Mix-A-Lot. Don't tell anyone about that last part. It may not be possible to live down. Especially because I can't get "My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns hon." out of my head. Thanks.

Musings

So- I haven't been getting much sleep lately. I usually don't when things get stressy around here. Or, to quote the Wu-tang Clan-when times are hard like leather. All I do is lay in bed or sit on the couch and all of this CRAP goes through my head and won't let me shut it off. And it is usually rattling around the next day which makes me a GREAT conversationalist-let me tell ya. So I am dumping some of it here in hopes of a more peaceful slumber tonight. And no, you big baby, I don't expect you to read it all. I still can't figure out what the hell you're doing here in the first place.

Is it the eighth sign of the apocalypse when you hear Whitesnake and Color Me Badd twice in one day?

How lame is my life that all it takes is a passing reference to Leonard Bast to make me inordinately happy for the rest of the day?(and if you don't know who that is, shame on you)

How many times can you re-watch the Ryan Reynolds parts in BladeTrinity before it makes you a pervert? Should I like that he gets stabbed just because it causes him to be shirtless almost the whole rest of the movie? Does this make me bad person?

I am going to hell because my husband(the truck driver!) has a cleaner mouth than I do? Or am I going to hell because I don't care?

Is it a sign of mental instability or good judgement that I have begun to fervently wish-every day-that every single one of the women driving SUV's, talking on cell phones and not even caring that they aren't the only ones on the road as they drop their kids off at Turner's school will be swallowed up by an enormous hole in the earth? As long as I promise not to laugh, am I still okay?

Do I really have to keep lying to people about what state I am from due to the enormous corn maze done in the likeness of David Archuletta? Can I at least go set fire to the part that says "Archuletta For President" and get this state back on the road to recovering at least a shred of it's dignity?

What if somebody finds out that I could give a ---- about the election in Nov? They're all the same guy. I could get drummed out of Utah(red, red everywhere) if anyone finds out that I think John McCain is Cuckoo Bird. Then if I have to take refuge in Califirnia they'll run me out on a rail when they find out that I think Barack Obama is a worthless spendthrift. And don't even get me started on stinkin' congress. Those bailout voting pieces of refuse. It did soooo much good eh?

-Well, that's enough for now-At least it's start-

Ahhh, memories

So-this weekend, I got a phone call from a gal I went to High School with. Yes, I ended that sentence using with, I did say gal and no, I'm not telling you her name-for her protection of course. I don't know many people from high school that would claim to know me so-I don't want to out her-just in case. It appears that our 15 year class reunion is next Saturday. Kinda short notice but if Emily had wanted to go, I would have tried to rearrange things to accompany her but she would rather have a weenie roast, so there you go. As everybody knows, I'm always up for a good roasted weiner. In the flyer they sent out, if we're not going, we are encouraged to create a profile on Facebook so that everybody can catch up. Well, being the good little citizen that I am, I dutifully went on Facebook last night to check things out. Yes-shocking behavior for me but Tim was watching Sportsbeat-what else was I gonna do? Go to bed? But then what to my wondering eyes should appear? 3 pages of class of '93 to go see my dear. (That little bit of poetry is my gift to you. You're welcome.) Every profile with pictures of course! Thanks for not making me get out my yearbook to look you up because I can't remember who the hell you are beyond- I think that was the guy that always stared at my boobs or Oh that's right- he was on the football team and thought I couldn't know anything about football because I was a girl! Those knobs @ Facebook make you sign up if you want to see anything good, so I am now the proud owner of a brand spankin' new Facebook membership. I actually considered putting up pics like the rest of the class until I remembered that fat and old isn't such a hot look for me. Especially since I didn't see one person that looked like they knew what a donut tastes like. Um-hello! you're SUPPOSED to look worse fifteen years later! It looks like I'm the only one that got that memo (and then probably spilled my Coke on it. mmmmm Coke. with sugar. mmmmm) Maybe I should put up a picture of my torso just like the guy from CA that Tim and I found. I am sure my back fat is enough to impress even the most snobbish of old class chums. (you know- chum-as in we chummed the water to attract the sharks) Maybe I'll have to sleep on that one. No dummy, not my back fat. I sleep on that every night. Anyway-if you want to borrow my membership to laugh at people incognito- I'll send you my password. Just don't be surprised if all of your "add as friend" overtures are rejected.

Spiders, spiders everywhere

WARNING!-Make sure you're eating lunch while you read this!
Tim is standing in the hall and calls me in to look at something. I walk down the hall and look down at the biggest stinkin' spider I have ever seen. Now, spiders don't normally bother me that much but this spider was HUGE! It was bigger than my whole thumb. It also looked really wierd. It looked like it should have been striped all over but instead, it looked kind of fuzzy-like it's back half was covered in black dotty bumps. Tim picks it up in a cup and drops it into the bathroom sink and as the spider starts to try to escape, all of these little baby spiders start to jump off of it and swarm around the sink. There must have been at least fifty of the little suckers. Tim says closer to 75. It doesn't matter how many there were-it was one of the coolest/grossest things I have ever seen in my life. I wish I could have gotten pics but I don't think the spider would have chilled out enough to give me time to go for the camera. I keep thinking about it every time I walk down the hall. If I don't have my glasses on, I wouldn't even see a spider before I stepped on it with my bare foot. Yum. For all of my spider loving sisters and friends out there, maybe you'll get lucky and have something this fun happen to you.

P.S. Don't be ridiculous. Of course the spider and it's numerous, disgusting babies got flushed down the sink. Don't tell PETA.

So busy.

Sorry that it has been a while since I have updated but I have been finding a lot more things to keep me busy than I thought I would. Plus-the kids are back in school- which has allowed me to schedule in a few more things than I would otherwise. Besides keepin' it real, yo-I have found the time to:

-Find several vans that will work should I find myself looking for accommodations down by the river.

-Sort through all of the hotties from San Quentin on writeaprisoner.com so that I can find myself a man when Tim gets tired of my self-indulgent crap and tells me to hit the road. I think those guys make .33 cents an hour or something, so, that should help.

-Make a countdown calendar that helps me keep track of EXACTLY when the New Kids on the Block release their new album.

-Do a little investigating on Brett Michaels and his upcoming third incarnation of Rock of Love. It's going to take place on a TOUR BUS! I think they should call it Rock of Love 3: Ho's on a Bus.

-Buy a little notebook and keep painstakingly detailed notes on what the neighbors are up to.

-Spend the grocery money on new scrapbook stuff-
ME: "Kids! Look at mommy's fun things!"
THE KIDS: "But mommy, we're hungry!"
ME: "Don't be selfish!" (smack) "I made you ramen noodles yesterday! It's mommy's turn!"
THE KIDS: "Boo hoo hoo"
ME: "Whatever." (smack)


-Drive 44 mph down the highway when I go pick Turner up, just to piss. you. off.

-Make a pro-con list between watching Pam Anderson's new reality show or poking out my eyes with a hot poker.


Sorry, thats all I've got time for now. I REALLY need to finish watching the rest of THS Investigates:Love Behind Bars before Tim gets home and asks me what I did all day.

Helpful Hints

As I gird up my loins (because really, nobody wants to see me with ungirded loins at my age) to go work my final shift at FMN(Forget Me Not), I have been reflecting on my experiences at the store as it was re-opened this week and here at home as I have started to deal with the shift back to a useless member of society. In the last 2 weeks I have learned a few things that I thought I should share. No, not because I am a shameless TMI(to much information) kind of person but because I am a selfless, caring kind of person that is willing to tell you these things in the hope of helping others. While wallowing in JLD(jobless loser depression-keep up with the acronyms people!) I have discovered:

Mainlining Wild Cherry Pepsi does help(albiet temporarily).

If it's on sale, people will do anything to get it.

Randomly cursing at inanimate objects around the house is always a good time and a nice stress reliever to boot.

Cheap frozen pizza is your friend.

It IS possible to play the PS2 until your hands cramp and you almost wet your pants and not feel like you have hit rock bottom.

Your husband will only tolerate so much whining and dirty dish avoiding before you find yourself locked out of the house.

ALL scrapbookers are a little off (yeah, me too).

THIS is why I wish Summer and all of it's attending irritations would crawl in a hole and DIE!

Kids WILL eat peanut butter sandwiches twice a day if you don't shower very frequently and look very very mean.

Also, if it's on sale, it will instantly seem 50 times more desirable than it was before.

Comparing your neighbors to the devil is not going to get you very far; heaven wise.

You CAN listen to Public Enemy with the volume at 75 and not go completely deaf.

After a certain amount of time as a JL, hookers do start to seem more just like creative entrepeneurs-you must remind yourself -THIS IS NOT TRUE!

After gaining all that Pepsi weight, you don't look so good in spandex hot-pants anyway.

There actually are whack-jobs out there that want to spend a mint on a huge die-cut machine and dies. These people should be avoided. They are crazier (and richer) than you.

When someone calls and asks you to be the Neighborhood Watch block leader-I don't care how much Coke you have had-just say NO!

That's all for now. I am positive there will be more. If you find even one or two hints helpful then my sharing will not have been in vain.

Hey buddy, can you spare a dime?

So- it is with a heavy heart (and rear end) that I come to you tonight. I am officially jobless it seems. No- surprisingly enough, Rita didn't finally get fed up and give me the axe. Rita finally got fed up and is giving the whole store the axe. I am a little sadder than I thought I would be. (Though, obviously not too sad to be watching some 30ish crackhead on Intervention(on A&E) admit to his parents that he hasn't showered in 5 weeks and then get on his bike and speed over to one of his girlfriends house because she just bought $100 worth of crack. Did I mention the girlfriend appears to be betwen 60-70? Yum.) Anyway, as I was saying, how often do you find a job that you look forward to going to? One where even a bad day is a good day if you know what I mean. I don't think those kinds of jobs wander by with much frequency. This begs the question: Now that I am a jobless loser, what next? Am I psychotic enough to work at the Post Office like Tim wants me to? Do I go on the dole and start panhandling on the weekends? Do I embrace my unemployed state, eat Cheetos and watch t.v. from my couch until I become fused to it and have to be trucked out of my living room? Is is still profitable to shake down hookers on State Street? Is there any possible way to sue one of my former co-workers for sexual harrassment and win?(I'm thinking lewd notes in the back room here. What do you think?) With my supreme back-fat; is stripping even an option anymore? Do I just throw myself on the mercy of my husband despite the fact that I am now not pulling my weight? (except when I occasionally get off of the couch) Ah me, so many things to ponder, so little brain power. I'm off to bed to think (drink?) myself to sleep. I suspect I will find sleep a little elusive tonight with so many wonderful options in front of me. (well that and the fact that I just watched half of Wildest Dating Show Moments on E! and I can't stop throwing up in my mouth yet.)

P.S. Of course the smelly crackhead went to rehab. Don't lie. I know you've been wondering. No, they didn't make him shower before they put him on the cross country flight. Love it.

Okay

Whatever.