I'm thinking it might just be my husband, but Good God they can be annoying much of the time. Here's a list I'm sure that many other wives can relate to.
1. He yells and talks loudly at the TV when watching football. He's such a football fanatic, he won't have anyone over or go anywhere else to watch the game. He has ALWAYS been this way.
2. Mr. BM has to be the most unobservant asshole I've ever known. Last week, I totally re-did the front porch with beautiful new Fall plants, pumpkins, and a new pad for the bench. I also had all new bedding plants put in the front flowerbeds. In addition, I painted the front door a beautiful deep crimson and added a new wreath. When he came in from work I asked how he liked it and he said "Liked what?" Evidently all my hard work was an exercise in futility. I mean, how the fuck could you walk past all that and not notice? Insert Deep Sigh here.
3. On the weekends he has taken to allowing himself two naps per day. I now refer to these as The Pre-Nap and The Nap, which has become a joke among all our friends. Anyone who calls to talk to him on the weekends now asks "Is he in The Pre-Nap or The Nap mode?". You'd think he was a really old fart, but he's not. Not in years anyway.
4. We never go out to dinner unless friends call and invite us, which means I normally cook seven nights per week. God forbid he should ever say "Hey honey, let's go out and grab a bite to eat." If I suggest it, he just says flat No.
5. Mr. BM has also recently become a fan of the cooking network, which I think is funny when you consider that he's never cooked a whole meal on his own. Instead, he prefers to criticize my cooking, telling me what he saw on so-and-so's cooking show and how I'm doing it all wrong. Yes, he's a total asshole about this. You see, it's much easier for him to do this than actually get up off his lazy butt and try to cook.
6. Every night when he comes home from work, he has 3 strong drinks in a row and is usually completely greased by 7:00 PM. He starts slurring his words and then begins to get confrontational with me. In the many years we've been married, I've learned to just not talk with him once he reaches his point of inebriation. He's become a total lush, the asshole. And I'm the only one with a real reason to drink... living with his crazy ass. However, I plan to outlive the jerk, so I rarely indulge.
7. I used to actually eat meals at the kitchen table with him until I could no longer stand the wild channel surfing, really bad old black & white westerns, the cooking network, or one of a hundred different news stations. Occasionally I like to watch a nice movie or TV show, but not him. So, I now eat in the den/office by myself & I'm as happy as a clam.
8. Mr. BM also likes to tell me when to cook meals. If I go into the kitchen to start dinner, he says it's too early. If I'm still working at the computer when he deems it time for me to start dinner, he comes in & asks me if I'm ordering pizza or asks why I haven't started yet. Then, when I go in to start dinner, he finds something to do that keeps him in my way and it really pisses me off. Also, no matter what I cook, it is never more than just "really good" and most of the time just "good". It doesn't matter how hard I've tried to wow him with a dish or how hard I've worked. He's very stingy with any compliment toward me. Did I mention that he has to eat at PRECISELY tha same time every night? No variations or he turns into a cranky asshole. Wait a minute. He turns into an asshole over everything, lol.
9. If & when we do ever go out to dinner, he spends the entire evening looking at other women. The few times I've called him on this, he tells me I've got some kind of problem & denies having done this. I am not blind and I'm not delusional. Remember he's done these things for more than 35 years. He then goes & gets pissed off at me for saying anything. You know, since he's so innocent & all. I know what I see & I have known what I've seen for all these years.
10. Now here's my favorite of all. His new thing is listening to Christian music. Don't get me wrong here, I like Christian music, but this man hasn't been in church since we were at the altar. I took the kids to church by myself for 25 years. I'm afraid he's under some kind of impression that by listening to Christian music he is going to somehow make it to Heaven or whatever the hell it is he's thinking. It's really annoying because he leaves my car radio on the Christian station when he drives my car. I only listen to DVD's. So, when getting in my car to go somewhere, I have to put my CD back in, re-adjust my car seat and re-adjust my rearview mirror. It's maddening. And, I still can't get him to go to church with me on Sunday. Yes, he's a real peach.
Don't you wish you had a wonderful partner like mine?
Cheerio ~ Blogbitch #2
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
I Was Under The Impression I Am Entitled To My Opinion
My husband Mr. BM, is an annoying Know-It-All and sometimes I become overwhelmed with the urge to strangle him. It wouldn't be so bad if he was only right part of the time. Really. But, to live with someone who is always right about something... anything, is grounds for thoughts of smothering him with a pillow, at the very least.
So, I'm asking this. Is this just a husband thing? Or is it just most men in general? Or perhaps, it's just Mr. BM. Much of what he claims to be right about, is merely his Republican Conservative ideas of what should be what. I happen to disagree, because I'm not a died in the wool conservative like he is. I happen to be a free thinker, having not the narrow mindedness to have a political party lead me around by the nose. I happen to not always agree with either party, and I have issues with both.
Does that make me wrong? I don't fucking think so. It just means that I don't allow my husband to influence the way I think about the things I feel strongly about. The women who were sufferagettes, went through Hell fighting to give us the Right To Vote. I'll be damned if I'm going to spit on their memories and vote the way someone else tells me to vote. Yeah - I'm stubborn that way. Hmmmm... not really stubborn. I just have an opinion of my own and don't need to be told how or what to do or think, by anyone. Since when has that been wrong?
For one thing, I believe in a woman's right to choose whether or not she has an abortion. When men start having babies, I might change my stance.
I offer this in my defense. A speech by Susan B. Anthony:
In the 1800s, women in the United States had few legal rights and did not have the right to vote. This speech was given by Susan B. Anthony after her arrest for casting an illegal vote in the presidential election of 1872. She was tried and then fined $100 but refused to pay.
Friends and fellow citizens: I stand before you tonight under indictment for the alleged crime of having voted at the last presidential election, without having a lawful right to vote. It shall be my work this evening to prove to you that in thus voting, I not only committed no crime, but, instead, simply exercised my citizen's rights, guaranteed to me and all United States citizens by the National Constitution, beyond the power of any state to deny.
The preamble of the Federal Constitution says:
"We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."
It was we, the people; not we, the white male citizens; nor yet we, the male citizens; but we, the whole people, who formed the Union. And we formed it, not to give the blessings of liberty, but to secure them; not to the half of ourselves and the half of our posterity, but to the whole people - women as well as men. And it is a downright mockery to talk to women of their enjoyment of the blessings of liberty while they are denied the use of the only means of securing them provided by this democratic-republican government - the ballot.
For any state to make sex a qualification that must ever result in the disfranchisement of one entire half of the people, is to pass a bill of attainder, or, an ex post facto law, and is therefore a violation of the supreme law of the land. By it the blessings of liberty are forever withheld from women and their female posterity.
To them this government has no just powers derived from the consent of the governed. To them this government is not a democracy. It is not a republic. It is an odious aristocracy; a hateful oligarchy of sex; the most hateful aristocracy ever established on the face of the globe; an oligarchy of wealth, where the rich govern the poor. An oligarchy of learning, where the educated govern the ignorant, or even an oligarchy of race, where the Saxon rules the African, might be endured; but this oligarchy of sex, which makes father, brothers, husband, sons, the oligarchs over the mother and sisters, the wife and daughters, of every household - which ordains all men sovereigns, all women subjects, carries dissension, discord, and rebellion into every home of the nation.
Webster, Worcester, and Bouvier all define a citizen to be a person in the United States, entitled to vote and hold office.
The only question left to be settled now is: Are women persons? And I hardly believe any of our opponents will have the hardihood to say they are not. Being persons, then, women are citizens; and no state has a right to make any law, or to enforce any old law, that shall abridge their privileges or immunities. Hence, every discrimination against women in the constitutions and laws of the several states is today null and void, precisely as is every one against Negroes.
Susan B. Anthony - 1873
Our foremothers went to jail, then prison, to defend our right to make our own decisions. Apparently, many of our sisters have forgotten this, since the number of women who vote has diminished over the last few years. These women were tortured, starved, beaten, and deprived of human decency, in an effort to keep them quiet, but they stood their ground.
After we've come so far through women of greatness & dedication, are we really going to allow only men to make the decision of who is voted into office?
Jesus Christ, ladies! Get a grip, set aside some time on election day, and grow a spine. Make your vote count, not as your husband's vote, but as your own voice being heard above the masses. We do count. Let's get the fuck out there and prove it, eh? Pull your little heads out of your asses and wake up and smell the coffee. Believe it or not, we actually CAN change the world, if we stand our ground with opinions that are our own.
Got Spine?
Cheerio ~ Blogbitch #2
So, I'm asking this. Is this just a husband thing? Or is it just most men in general? Or perhaps, it's just Mr. BM. Much of what he claims to be right about, is merely his Republican Conservative ideas of what should be what. I happen to disagree, because I'm not a died in the wool conservative like he is. I happen to be a free thinker, having not the narrow mindedness to have a political party lead me around by the nose. I happen to not always agree with either party, and I have issues with both.
Does that make me wrong? I don't fucking think so. It just means that I don't allow my husband to influence the way I think about the things I feel strongly about. The women who were sufferagettes, went through Hell fighting to give us the Right To Vote. I'll be damned if I'm going to spit on their memories and vote the way someone else tells me to vote. Yeah - I'm stubborn that way. Hmmmm... not really stubborn. I just have an opinion of my own and don't need to be told how or what to do or think, by anyone. Since when has that been wrong?
For one thing, I believe in a woman's right to choose whether or not she has an abortion. When men start having babies, I might change my stance.
I offer this in my defense. A speech by Susan B. Anthony:
In the 1800s, women in the United States had few legal rights and did not have the right to vote. This speech was given by Susan B. Anthony after her arrest for casting an illegal vote in the presidential election of 1872. She was tried and then fined $100 but refused to pay.
Friends and fellow citizens: I stand before you tonight under indictment for the alleged crime of having voted at the last presidential election, without having a lawful right to vote. It shall be my work this evening to prove to you that in thus voting, I not only committed no crime, but, instead, simply exercised my citizen's rights, guaranteed to me and all United States citizens by the National Constitution, beyond the power of any state to deny.
The preamble of the Federal Constitution says:
"We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."
It was we, the people; not we, the white male citizens; nor yet we, the male citizens; but we, the whole people, who formed the Union. And we formed it, not to give the blessings of liberty, but to secure them; not to the half of ourselves and the half of our posterity, but to the whole people - women as well as men. And it is a downright mockery to talk to women of their enjoyment of the blessings of liberty while they are denied the use of the only means of securing them provided by this democratic-republican government - the ballot.
For any state to make sex a qualification that must ever result in the disfranchisement of one entire half of the people, is to pass a bill of attainder, or, an ex post facto law, and is therefore a violation of the supreme law of the land. By it the blessings of liberty are forever withheld from women and their female posterity.
To them this government has no just powers derived from the consent of the governed. To them this government is not a democracy. It is not a republic. It is an odious aristocracy; a hateful oligarchy of sex; the most hateful aristocracy ever established on the face of the globe; an oligarchy of wealth, where the rich govern the poor. An oligarchy of learning, where the educated govern the ignorant, or even an oligarchy of race, where the Saxon rules the African, might be endured; but this oligarchy of sex, which makes father, brothers, husband, sons, the oligarchs over the mother and sisters, the wife and daughters, of every household - which ordains all men sovereigns, all women subjects, carries dissension, discord, and rebellion into every home of the nation.
Webster, Worcester, and Bouvier all define a citizen to be a person in the United States, entitled to vote and hold office.
The only question left to be settled now is: Are women persons? And I hardly believe any of our opponents will have the hardihood to say they are not. Being persons, then, women are citizens; and no state has a right to make any law, or to enforce any old law, that shall abridge their privileges or immunities. Hence, every discrimination against women in the constitutions and laws of the several states is today null and void, precisely as is every one against Negroes.
Susan B. Anthony - 1873
Our foremothers went to jail, then prison, to defend our right to make our own decisions. Apparently, many of our sisters have forgotten this, since the number of women who vote has diminished over the last few years. These women were tortured, starved, beaten, and deprived of human decency, in an effort to keep them quiet, but they stood their ground.
After we've come so far through women of greatness & dedication, are we really going to allow only men to make the decision of who is voted into office?
Jesus Christ, ladies! Get a grip, set aside some time on election day, and grow a spine. Make your vote count, not as your husband's vote, but as your own voice being heard above the masses. We do count. Let's get the fuck out there and prove it, eh? Pull your little heads out of your asses and wake up and smell the coffee. Believe it or not, we actually CAN change the world, if we stand our ground with opinions that are our own.
Got Spine?
Cheerio ~ Blogbitch #2
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Meet The ADD Family ~ OR ~ Adventures In Lala Land
I'll take a break from hubby bashing today, so that I can tell you about this horrid, awful woman I have to be nice to. I truly cannot stand to be in the same room with her. Why, you ask? I'm so glad you asked! You know you want to know because you may know someone just exactly like her. How much do I hate her? Let me count the ways.
First of all, she is the fifth (or is it the 6th) wife of Mr. Big Man's (let's just call hubby Mr. BM, shall we?) best friend. Yes, we have been through several wives with him. Believe it or not, this is his best wife yet. Poor dumb dickhead. Well, as much as I love the guy, that's just what he is. He's always let that organ in his pants do his decision making for him, when he clearly would have been a lot better off letting his other organs do that. But wait just one minute. This isn't about Mr. ADD. This is about his wife, Mrs. ADD. Yes, they both claim to have Attention Deficit Disorder and yes, they are both on Adderol & Alcohol. I shit you not. If that's not a disaster waiting to happen, then I don't know what is. Needless to say, they fights a bit. OK, they fights A LOT. Mr. ADD is a whole other string of posts, but he is at least amusing.
Crap, I keep getting derailed. Her. It's all about her. Focus. OK. Here's a nice beginner list of things I hate about this woman. She is truly a piece of work like none other and will likely be the featured post by me on any given day. Here we go:
1. She's a big ole gruff country gal and she can whip Mr. ADD's ass at any given moment, and often does. Sometimes he deserves it and sometimes he doesn't. The thing is, that she's so damn venomous and mean when she does it. We've seen them fight enough times to know. She wants everything her way or every body's gonna know about it within about a half a block. He just runs along and does whatever she tells him or yells at him to do. I'd say it was rather pathetic if he didn't so often deserve it.
2. Now, Mr. BM cannot stand her either, but I guess that's not a good gauge since he doesn't like many people anyway. She grates on his nerves to the point he just wants to get away from her. After 15 minutes. So, this is one area that we're in total agreement on. I can honestly take her for about an hour max on her good days.
3. The first thing she does that makes my skin crawl is... she makes all of these strange noises and whistles and guttural sounds (you know... like she's sucking snot down her throat), but only at times. I've never been sure what triggers it, but my guess is The Adderol & Alcohol diet she lives on. It's not just gross, it can also be very embarrassing. Jesus Christ, she's not 80. She's 50.
4. This woman has the most gawd awful taste in clothes and shoes of any woman that I have ever known and she doesn't give a shit. I'm not saying her tastes are simple or anything. It's like Tilda Swinton at the Academy Awards last year, only on Adderol & Alcohol, lol. It's almost as if she goes out in search of the most horrible looking outfit she can find. I guess I'm trying to say she is just tacky. Yup, that'll do. Tacky.
5. Every year she gives me birthday gifts that I hate and never use, when I go out of my way to find really nice things for her. Everyone that knows me, knows that I do not EVER wear T-shirts. I hate them and I look awful in them and I have NEVER worn them. This year she got me a Large T-shirt and I wear medium. That is, if I wore T-shirts. Moron. Mr. BM liked it so he can wear it.
6. She lets her large dogs live on their furniture all over the house, so that there is no place you can sit without getting their wiry hairs all over you. Then, she lets the dogs jump up on people who come over and I've got my own personal scars to prove it. Mrs. ADD also lets the dogs swim in the lovely tiled pool she asks you to come over and swim in. Then, they try to drown you as she ignores it completely. She keeps wondering why their pool cleaner keeps breaking. Can you spell d-o-g h-a-i-r? Dumb shit.
7. Their two dogs killed her cat last winter because she accidentally left a door open. I mean what the fuck is that all about? They ripped the cat to shreds and after she cleaned the mess off walls and everything, she kept them. The Dogs. Then spoke to the dogs repeatedly and told them she knew they weren't really bad. Wha? You've gotta be kidding me! At my house those two devil dogs would be sucking death juice for sure.
8. Which brings me to this one. She is one of those people who talks non-stop, straight through anyone else's conversation and never listens. Mostly, she talks to those Hell Dogs, even while you're trying to talk to her about something. It's the most insane behavior I've ever witnessed in my life. Alright, I admit she's not the worst, but she's damn sure the fucking strangest act I've seen since the last time I saw a transvestite's act (which was actually a real guffaw). Mrs. ADD is just downright wacko. Now mind you, I talk to my cat because, well, she knows exactly what I'm saying, even though it's in short phrases. Mrs. ADD carries on hours long conversations with her dogs and they don't have a fucking clue what she's going on about.
9. Mrs. ADD is also prone to saying nice things to me like "Wow, your swimsuit almost matches that cover up," or "Oh. You got your hair cut." or "Ewwwww... you've got a Camel Toe going on." Ummmmmm... Thanks? She doesn't have a tactful bone in her body. At a party once, she came over and said "So who's the big fat woman that has taken control of the kitchen?" The fat woman's husband was sitting right next to me. He replied "She's my wife." She just gave him a look that said "Whoa!" Yup, she's got Class. Real Class.
10. This is the one that grates me like fresh Parmesan. She talks baby talk all the time and acts like she's really sweet. I hate baby talk with a passion. I never even let my daughter talk baby talk because it makes you sound like an idiot. She only does it when new people are around and it makes me want to hurl whatever I last consumed. Neenee. Nannee. Noonoo. Also, most of the time she's talking to the dogs, she talks to them in baby talk. Aaaargh! It makes me nuts. The woman is 50 years old for Christ's sake. She's a bit long in the tooth for that, me thinks.
Stay tuned for more adventures with the ADD Family, to be posted in the near future.
Cheerio! Blogbitch #2
First of all, she is the fifth (or is it the 6th) wife of Mr. Big Man's (let's just call hubby Mr. BM, shall we?) best friend. Yes, we have been through several wives with him. Believe it or not, this is his best wife yet. Poor dumb dickhead. Well, as much as I love the guy, that's just what he is. He's always let that organ in his pants do his decision making for him, when he clearly would have been a lot better off letting his other organs do that. But wait just one minute. This isn't about Mr. ADD. This is about his wife, Mrs. ADD. Yes, they both claim to have Attention Deficit Disorder and yes, they are both on Adderol & Alcohol. I shit you not. If that's not a disaster waiting to happen, then I don't know what is. Needless to say, they fights a bit. OK, they fights A LOT. Mr. ADD is a whole other string of posts, but he is at least amusing.
Crap, I keep getting derailed. Her. It's all about her. Focus. OK. Here's a nice beginner list of things I hate about this woman. She is truly a piece of work like none other and will likely be the featured post by me on any given day. Here we go:
1. She's a big ole gruff country gal and she can whip Mr. ADD's ass at any given moment, and often does. Sometimes he deserves it and sometimes he doesn't. The thing is, that she's so damn venomous and mean when she does it. We've seen them fight enough times to know. She wants everything her way or every body's gonna know about it within about a half a block. He just runs along and does whatever she tells him or yells at him to do. I'd say it was rather pathetic if he didn't so often deserve it.
2. Now, Mr. BM cannot stand her either, but I guess that's not a good gauge since he doesn't like many people anyway. She grates on his nerves to the point he just wants to get away from her. After 15 minutes. So, this is one area that we're in total agreement on. I can honestly take her for about an hour max on her good days.
3. The first thing she does that makes my skin crawl is... she makes all of these strange noises and whistles and guttural sounds (you know... like she's sucking snot down her throat), but only at times. I've never been sure what triggers it, but my guess is The Adderol & Alcohol diet she lives on. It's not just gross, it can also be very embarrassing. Jesus Christ, she's not 80. She's 50.
4. This woman has the most gawd awful taste in clothes and shoes of any woman that I have ever known and she doesn't give a shit. I'm not saying her tastes are simple or anything. It's like Tilda Swinton at the Academy Awards last year, only on Adderol & Alcohol, lol. It's almost as if she goes out in search of the most horrible looking outfit she can find. I guess I'm trying to say she is just tacky. Yup, that'll do. Tacky.
5. Every year she gives me birthday gifts that I hate and never use, when I go out of my way to find really nice things for her. Everyone that knows me, knows that I do not EVER wear T-shirts. I hate them and I look awful in them and I have NEVER worn them. This year she got me a Large T-shirt and I wear medium. That is, if I wore T-shirts. Moron. Mr. BM liked it so he can wear it.
6. She lets her large dogs live on their furniture all over the house, so that there is no place you can sit without getting their wiry hairs all over you. Then, she lets the dogs jump up on people who come over and I've got my own personal scars to prove it. Mrs. ADD also lets the dogs swim in the lovely tiled pool she asks you to come over and swim in. Then, they try to drown you as she ignores it completely. She keeps wondering why their pool cleaner keeps breaking. Can you spell d-o-g h-a-i-r? Dumb shit.
7. Their two dogs killed her cat last winter because she accidentally left a door open. I mean what the fuck is that all about? They ripped the cat to shreds and after she cleaned the mess off walls and everything, she kept them. The Dogs. Then spoke to the dogs repeatedly and told them she knew they weren't really bad. Wha? You've gotta be kidding me! At my house those two devil dogs would be sucking death juice for sure.
8. Which brings me to this one. She is one of those people who talks non-stop, straight through anyone else's conversation and never listens. Mostly, she talks to those Hell Dogs, even while you're trying to talk to her about something. It's the most insane behavior I've ever witnessed in my life. Alright, I admit she's not the worst, but she's damn sure the fucking strangest act I've seen since the last time I saw a transvestite's act (which was actually a real guffaw). Mrs. ADD is just downright wacko. Now mind you, I talk to my cat because, well, she knows exactly what I'm saying, even though it's in short phrases. Mrs. ADD carries on hours long conversations with her dogs and they don't have a fucking clue what she's going on about.
9. Mrs. ADD is also prone to saying nice things to me like "Wow, your swimsuit almost matches that cover up," or "Oh. You got your hair cut." or "Ewwwww... you've got a Camel Toe going on." Ummmmmm... Thanks? She doesn't have a tactful bone in her body. At a party once, she came over and said "So who's the big fat woman that has taken control of the kitchen?" The fat woman's husband was sitting right next to me. He replied "She's my wife." She just gave him a look that said "Whoa!" Yup, she's got Class. Real Class.
10. This is the one that grates me like fresh Parmesan. She talks baby talk all the time and acts like she's really sweet. I hate baby talk with a passion. I never even let my daughter talk baby talk because it makes you sound like an idiot. She only does it when new people are around and it makes me want to hurl whatever I last consumed. Neenee. Nannee. Noonoo. Also, most of the time she's talking to the dogs, she talks to them in baby talk. Aaaargh! It makes me nuts. The woman is 50 years old for Christ's sake. She's a bit long in the tooth for that, me thinks.
Stay tuned for more adventures with the ADD Family, to be posted in the near future.
Cheerio! Blogbitch #2
All Families Are Fucked Up ... Aren't They?
A brief list of some fucked up things that have happened in my family:
2. My aunt gambled away every penny my grandmother had to her name when my grandmother had Alzheimer's. Oh now this is a story for its own post. Karma is a bitch - trust me.
1. The rumor in the family is that this crazy great-uncle, "Elmer" is a child molester. As kids when we'd go camping at a family reunion at the lake and "Elmer" was there - the parents were on Lock Down and Eagle Eye Watch. We didn't know it at the time. But I remember my parents made us sleep in the back of a station wagon (with the doors locked) instead of in a tent. I remember being woken in my sleep one night because some guy had used a knife to slash open a tent where other young girls (not in our fucked up family) were sleeping. The girls screamed, chaos ensued, car lights and flash lights were on everywhere, police showed up and the man was not located. The story mill in the family churned out that my grandmother (Elmer's sister) hid him in her RV and she shuttled him out of the area by hiding him in a car trunk the next day. He fit the description to a TEE. Crazy fucker. I saw him at my grandmother's funeral and wouldn't hug him - not going to give him the benefit of him feeling my tits against his chest. Shudder.
2. My aunt gambled away every penny my grandmother had to her name when my grandmother had Alzheimer's. Oh now this is a story for its own post. Karma is a bitch - trust me.
3. I have a sister who pretends to play the good Doctor's wife, while she barely holds onto her part-time job as Director of Nursing for a hospital. At home she ignores her children, sleeps for DAYS, has her husband doing everything in the home - cooking, cleaning, taking care of kids and working full time. One time me and my mother went to her house because she was so far in a depression she was on the verge of losing it entirely. We sacked up 19 NINETEEN large Hefty lawn bags full of shit. Dog and cat piss and shit everywhere. The kids were sleeping on filthy sheets, wearing filthy clothes - oh my god, had child services entered that filthy mess they would've removed the children pronto. She hadn't reconciled her checkbook in over a year and was bouncing checks left and right. I took over her finances and finally got her caught up on her mortgage, bills, filed insurance claims for the kids medical stuff - omg, this took almost 6 months. This was before she married the good doctor. I don't know how she landed him and I don't know why he puts up with her shit. I think she's manic-depressive... she's either way up, pretending to be supermom or she's waaaaay down.
4. This same sister used to live in the same town I do - several hours away from my parents and other siblings. For YEARS I saw her hysteria and manic-depressive episodes. For YEARS, I was the one bailing her out of shit, helping her, watching the kids, etc. When she got divorced and said she was moving to where my parents lived - I did a happy dance. I told her ex-husband I would support his side in court for getting custody of the children, because I knew how she neglected them. Not physically abused them - just ignored the shit out of them, like they weren't even there. My parents threw a FUCKING FIT when they heard about this and the only time in my life my Mom and Dad both literally screamed at me and told me that we take care of our own and how dare I do this to a family member and if I go through with this I am no longer a member of this family and not to ever, EVER, enter their house again. I was beside myself - torn. Do I be the voice of reason to make sure these kids are taken care of and alienate my entire family or do I fold? After agonizing contemplation and I can't stress the agonizing part enough - I folded. She was moving to their neck of the woods and I knew the kids wouldn't fall through the cracks - there's more family there than just me here and this way they would see what I have seen all these years. They would know the shit I put up with. And they did. My dad apologized to me - and later, my mother did. The kids - they're a mess, a bundle of their own little disorders and it is sad, sad, sad. OMG - I have so much more to vent about this.
5. My biological father, we'll call him "Sperm Donor" was an abusive alcoholic. It took 10 years for my mother to pull her head out of her ass and leave the bastard. She managed as best as she could with four young children and no education. Thank God she married my stepdad - after that our childhood was rosy and he's MY DAD as far as I am concerned. They have been married for 33 years now. Back to Sperm Donor. He didn't pay child support and we didn't see him after they divorced, except for a couple of times. He remarried and lived an alcoholic life with an alcoholic second wife. I found him when I was 26 - I wanted my medical information from his side of the family. He wanted to try to rekindle some kind of father-daughter relationship, play "Grandpa" - but I had my daughter call him by his first name - he didn't earn the title of Grandpa. Asshole. I got what I wanted - satisfaction of seeing him miserable, the medical information and I have no need to ever see him again. Closure. He can die a lonely, miserable, old, pathetic excuse for a man.
This is a good start. Ahhh - the freedom to be able to get it out. I love this blog.
Blogbitch #1 - OUT
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Oh My Man, I Love Him So... But He Still Pisses Me Off
It only makes sense that my first blog post be about my husband, so let's just call him Mr. Big Man, shall we? We've been together for three and a half decades, so you can just imagine how much Venting and Vodka therapy I'm going to need. As a matter of fact, Venting & Vodka Therapy will be a term you'll hear both of us Blogbitches use on a consistent basis. It beats the hell out of paying to talk to some idiot who has a degree from books, for $150.00 an hour. I've got a long line of degrees in Life, which beats the hell out of books any day. And I have lots of V & V Therapy on a daily basis. Because, well, life is just a big shit sandwich a great deal of the time and it's important to know what works and what doesn't. V & V Therapy works, my friends. I haven't killed him yet, okay?
I have stuck with this man through thick and thin over the years. So, before I begin, you must know a few things about him. I'll stick with just the top ten this time.
1. I love him as much as the day I finally got him into the church, but he can irritate the shit out of me. He suffers from severe anal retentiveitis, which you will hear far more of, than you ever wanted to. He's a whole phenomenon unto himself, I swear.
2. He kicks small dogs if they piss him off. Oh Hell. He kicks cats too. He also says loud ugly things about obese people when he sees them. No, he's not 12. Amazing, huh?
3. Although difficult to believe, he is college educated and comes from a very wealthy family, where he was basically raised by the maid because his mother was off doing Jr. League volunteer work. She was also one cold bitch. This explains so much.
4. He's still so in love with me that not even Viagra works, lol. However, he insists on continually asking me why we don't have sex any more. "Dear, we don't have sex any more because you can't get it up any more." You would think that would be clear enough. Nope.
5. He is also going deaf and makes me repeat everything I have said, for like the last decade. Whenever I repeat, I do so VERY LOUDLY and he says I don't have to shout. UhHuh.
6. He leaves skidmarks in every single pair of underwear he owns. Apparently he's been packing that asshole up in there for more than the 35 years I've been taking care of him. This would certainly explain why he's so anal retentive.
7. He is an honest man, which I like to some extent. Except for the fact that he has never told me I'm beautiful or that I look beautiful. He doesn't like to lie. He tells me I look good or fine and several times over the decades he has even used the word great. An attractive friend arrives with her husband and he says "Damn! You look incredible." Gee, Thanks a lot, asshole.
8. He goes to bed every night of the world at 8:30 PM, come Hell or High Water. He has done this since we were 25 and first married. He gets up at the ass crack of dawn and leaves before I ever get up, then doesn't come home until 5:00 PM. He works for himself. You do the math.
9. He has slept in the guest room for the last 15 years because he smokes in bed and has burned holes in countless bed linens, comforters, blankets, rugs, and carpets. I sleep in the master bedroom which has a door leading to the backyard. You do the math.
10. He says he loves to do yardwork, yet only does it a couple of times a year. He bitches about paying the guy that mows & edges, but he has no choice there. He refuses to hire someone to do the rest, so it just goes undone. I mean he has golf season, football season, baseball season, hockey season, and other such interests to occupy his valuable time. I'm a fucking princess, so I'm not about to do it.
Trust me when I tell you that you can't make this stuff up.
Now there. Aren't you just thrilled to fucking death that I shared with you? Right. I thought so.
Blogbitch #2
I have stuck with this man through thick and thin over the years. So, before I begin, you must know a few things about him. I'll stick with just the top ten this time.
1. I love him as much as the day I finally got him into the church, but he can irritate the shit out of me. He suffers from severe anal retentiveitis, which you will hear far more of, than you ever wanted to. He's a whole phenomenon unto himself, I swear.
2. He kicks small dogs if they piss him off. Oh Hell. He kicks cats too. He also says loud ugly things about obese people when he sees them. No, he's not 12. Amazing, huh?
3. Although difficult to believe, he is college educated and comes from a very wealthy family, where he was basically raised by the maid because his mother was off doing Jr. League volunteer work. She was also one cold bitch. This explains so much.
4. He's still so in love with me that not even Viagra works, lol. However, he insists on continually asking me why we don't have sex any more. "Dear, we don't have sex any more because you can't get it up any more." You would think that would be clear enough. Nope.
5. He is also going deaf and makes me repeat everything I have said, for like the last decade. Whenever I repeat, I do so VERY LOUDLY and he says I don't have to shout. UhHuh.
6. He leaves skidmarks in every single pair of underwear he owns. Apparently he's been packing that asshole up in there for more than the 35 years I've been taking care of him. This would certainly explain why he's so anal retentive.
7. He is an honest man, which I like to some extent. Except for the fact that he has never told me I'm beautiful or that I look beautiful. He doesn't like to lie. He tells me I look good or fine and several times over the decades he has even used the word great. An attractive friend arrives with her husband and he says "Damn! You look incredible." Gee, Thanks a lot, asshole.
8. He goes to bed every night of the world at 8:30 PM, come Hell or High Water. He has done this since we were 25 and first married. He gets up at the ass crack of dawn and leaves before I ever get up, then doesn't come home until 5:00 PM. He works for himself. You do the math.
9. He has slept in the guest room for the last 15 years because he smokes in bed and has burned holes in countless bed linens, comforters, blankets, rugs, and carpets. I sleep in the master bedroom which has a door leading to the backyard. You do the math.
10. He says he loves to do yardwork, yet only does it a couple of times a year. He bitches about paying the guy that mows & edges, but he has no choice there. He refuses to hire someone to do the rest, so it just goes undone. I mean he has golf season, football season, baseball season, hockey season, and other such interests to occupy his valuable time. I'm a fucking princess, so I'm not about to do it.
Trust me when I tell you that you can't make this stuff up.
Now there. Aren't you just thrilled to fucking death that I shared with you? Right. I thought so.
Blogbitch #2
Meet Elvira
I have a dilemma. My husband "The Dude" and I agreed to let our 21 year old stepson "Young Dude" move into our house with his 21 year old girlfriend. Lets call her "Elvira". The first time I met this girl, he brought her home to meet us and she stayed in the car. He said she was very shy and was afraid to come inside. I thought that was weird, but I'm pretty damn sociable so I figured I could break the ice and make her feel at ease. So I went out to the car and motioned for her to roll the window down - seriously, I stood there for a few seconds and she just looked down at her lap trying to ignore the fact that Young Dude's step-mom was standing next to the window. We talked briefly, made introductions and I asked her to come inside. She stared at her feet the whole time and made as little conversation as possible. Afterwards, I commented to The Dude that she seemed nice, but very shy and insecure. Which, honestly, might be a good match for Young Dude because he's a little weird and socially inept as well.
Elvira lived with a roommate in a different town and her and Young Dude continued to date for a few months - he usually stayed with her, although he technically lived with us. He was tired of driving to this other town and they discussed moving to the town where we lived and her finding a job and they getting their own place. Young Dude has a very well paying job, but he travels a lot with it and may be gone for a week or two at a time. While he was out of town for work, he called and told me Elvira quit her job at Subway and was losing the place she was currently living. He asked me if they could stay with us for a brief time until they found their own place. The Dude and I thought this would be fine, so I hauled her and all of her shit to our house. We used AAA to tow her piece of shit car that does not run, to our house. The day I moved her to our house, she informed me it was her birthday. It was also 104ยบ and she was wearing jeans and a hoodie sweatshirt. I asked her if she was burning up, she said she was, but that she didn't have any clothes that fit her as she had gained weight and didn't have money to buy new clothes. So yes - I took her shopping. Went to Kohl's and spent about $300 for a variety of clothing, mostly casual, but a nice pair of black pants and some dressier blouses to wear for job interviews. She was very cordial and appreciative and had expressed that she had never received such a nice birthday present. She has had a very sad childhood that I won't go into at this time, but upon hearing just the small bits she shared with me - it's no wonder this girl has issues. I was hoping that by extending some love, friendship and being welcomed into our family that perhaps she would come out of her shell and gain a little confidence. She really is a nice girl - but man, she is -- I don't even know the word... weird.
We spent a few days together - went grocery shopping together, some shoe shopping, drove around town and looked at some apartments they might be interested in. We have a spare car, an old Honda, that I gave her the keys to and $20 for gas money and told her she had full privilege to drive this car if she needed to go anywhere, or for a job interview, etc. I didn't want her to feel cooped up or stranded at this house full of relative strangers while her boyfriend was out of town for work. She never went anywhere. The money and the keys stayed on the bar in the kitchen for over a week before I finally put them away.
Then I started noticing unusual behavior. Staying up unusually late - like until 6am in the morning and then sleeping until (I assume sleeping, as she is in the bedroom with the door shut) 10pm or midnight. I tend to be a night owl myself, but I'm usually up until midnight or 2-3am at the latest. She stopped joining us for dinner and I began to wonder if she ate at all. There have been times I've knocked on her door to see if she's okay - times when I haven't seen her at all in 3 or 4 days. She seems to listen for when we go to bed and then she comes out and might eat a bowl of cereal or something simple - I'll find a dirty dish or a container in the trash, but that's the only sign that she even left the room.
When Young Dude returned home from work, she came out of hibernation and was more sociable. What I mean by this is that she might say "hi" or glance at us as she passed through the living room to the back end of the house where Young Dude and Elivira share the second living room in privacy. Young Dude talked to his Dad about them just living with us so they can save money to "get on their feet". His Dad agreed and I agreed - under the following terms:
- They need to keep their shit picked up. They have full use of a bedroom, bathroom and a super large second living room - but the living room and bathroom need to stay picked up. If they want to keep their bedroom looking like filth, they can but keep the door shut.
- Rent is $500 a month.
- They are welcome to eat with us, or to eat whatever we have in our pantry - but I am not a restaurant and will not cook for them or clean up their dishes. They have their own refrigerator and microwave in the "big room" and usually just nuke their own food.
- Elvira has to get a full-time job -- or a part-time job if she chooses to return to college full-time. But I don't want her living off of him - at least not in our home. If he wants to fully support her, then he can do so in their own place - not ours.
This was 2 months ago. Young Dude has paid $250 towards rent, once. The big room is a mess and there is hair and whisker shavings all over the bathroom. They leave their dirty dishes on the counter - unrinsed, so by the time I get to it, the shit is hard and crusty and hard to get off. And Elvira still hasn't gotten a job.
It gets worse.
The Dude also travels a lot for work and so often it is just me, Elvira and my youngest daughter at home... we will call youngest daughter, "Lucy". The reason I call the girlfriend "Elvira" is because she's like a vampire. I rarely see her during daylight hours - if at all. Her hair is died "Goth" black and she is the palest person I have ever seen. She could be pretty, I guess - but it's mostly the way she carries herself. If she could crawl inside a shell, she would and you see that from her, the way she's always looking down and keeps her arms tucked closely in like she's got to keep a fortress up around her. And she's doing a good job of that. The new clothes I bought her? I've seen her wear one blouse. Once. It's big hoodie sweatshirts and jeans - all the time, even if it's smokin' hot outside. Weird.
She claims she has put in a lot of online applications. She had one callback from Blockbuster and she went in for an interview - this was the one time I saw the blouse. She said they had to do a background check, but if that came out okay, she had the job. This was 3 weeks ago, so either her background check didn't clear or she didn't follow up somehow. I have no idea. How can someone NOT get hired by Blockbuster? Maybe they thought she looked kinda freaky and insecure. As an employer, I would. We live in an upscale area - kinda preppy... snobbish even. Don't judge me - I am as far from a snob as you will ever meet. As far as the job hunting goes, I think she needs to GET OUT OF THE FUCKING HOUSE and drive around to put in applications. Then if they want her to apply online, do so and call them and inform them that you did the online thing and here's my name, etc.
I digress - here's the "it gets worse" part.
We recently had a death in the family, The Dude and Young Dude's family. We went to the home of the deceased. Young Dude and Elvira showed up and Elvira stayed in the car. In. The. Car. We all went to the funeral service. Elvira stayed in the car. We went to the cemetery. Elvira stayed in the car. We went back to the house to eat lunch, visit, etc. Elvira stayed in the car. FOR FIVE FUCKING HOURS. Not once did the girl show her face. This is Young Dude's entire fucking family - most of whom she hadn't met and she did not leave the car. WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT? I can understand it if she "doesn't do funerals" because of some deaths she dealt with in her childhood - but why not meet the family? Eat lunch? He actually drove her to a gas station so she could use the bathroom because she wouldn't come in the house.
I honestly don't see him putting up with this kind of weird behavior for long. I sure hope not.
To me - it was the most disrespectful thing I have ever witnessed. I wish it had been one of my family members - not the death, shit - not that... but IF the situation had been on my side of the family and she pulled that shit - someone, probably my brother - if not myself, would've been knocking on the car window and asking her "What the fuck is your problem?" "Why the fuck did you even come if you're just going to sit out here?" We're more direct that way. This family thought it was all weird, but no one badgered Young Dude about it - except me. I find it intolerable and I'm not a person who thinks people should put on airs and be superficially sociable - but c'mon - this was the death of a close family member of her boyfriend's. Show some decency for God's sake.
I haven't seen her since the funeral. Which was 6 days ago. When I do - IF I do - I'm very likely going to give her a piece of my mind. Young Dude might be upset with me because of it, but fuck it - he can deal with it or move the hell out.
Whew - I feel a little better now.
Blogbitch #1 - OUT
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