Not So Blonde

Proof is in the Crackers

I’m not even going to try and front… this month has sucked. I wasn’t going to talk about it but it’s gotten to the point where I probably have to talk about it, if for no other reason than to get word out and possibly someone has a contact here in Phoenix Fucking Arizona.

I got laid off. Again. It’s incredibly embarrassing, and I haven’t been very public about it at all. Part of me knows the economy sucks and part of me thinks it’s me and I make really poor decisions.

I say that because every time I’m faced with a job search, I usually have at least 2 or more offers. I had been lucky in that respect but the luck seems to stop at the actual offers and then my dumbassery kicks in when it comes to decision time. There’s just no other explanation.

I have become that zombie woman that I always try to avoid becoming, that I know is lurking under the surface. The one that always feels braced for something bad to happen. But, she’s here now (um, 3rd person. Lovely!) I feel beat down by life and I’m at a loss to even know where to pick up the pieces.

It’s not a huge help that R has finally deployed (I say finally because it was inevitable), or that I’m PMS’ing. ha. That damn Aunt Flo, she’s ALWAYS on time. Kind of like BILLS.

Anyway, that’s all I’m going to say about it since I really can’t stand to dwell on either one more than I have to, it kinda sorta drives me crazy.

The teen and I went to the store the other day and I grew impatient waiting in a line that housed a checker so we went and got in line at the *gasp* self check-out. I hate self check-out for innumerable reasons I won’t delve into but just know this: Self check-out hates me. And the feeling is mutual.

At the end of the transaction, which took 4 times longer than if someone who ACTUALLY WORKED AT THE STORE rang me up, there was a flashing message on the monitor to check my receipt for an important message.

“What the fuck is that?”, I thought. “What could they possibly be annoying me with now??”

I look on the mile long receipt and printed on the bottom is a warning I MAY HAVE purchased food items that MAY contain salmonella. Big brother is watching with those frequent shopper cards, cards that R refuses to use with his own information as he doesn’t like anyone being privy to his shopping habits. Of course, being in the military and having Big Brother privy to EVERYTHING ELSE doesn’t seem to bother him.

I shove the receipt in my purse and apprise the kid of the situation. The kid says, “Oh hey, if I eat one, can I miss school tomorrow?”

My reply, “You’ll miss school FOREVER! Don’t even think about eating one!” M said he was joking but I’m not too sure about that. *tap chin* Not too sure at all…

I convince myself the warning is probably wrong the whole drive home. That the kid and I did not have in our household these innocuous looking cheese/peanut butter crackers that were, in fact, tainted. I just ate some for a late night snack a couple of days before! I mean, sure, I felt like shit the day after but that seems to be par for the course as of late… it couldn’t have been… nooooo!

I get home and one of my homie’s called… that reminds me of this song:

*bounce* *rock*

Where were we? Okay. So Ali and I were chatting away (she’s one of the few that knew about all of my drama) when I grabbed the crackers out of the pantry.

I’m steady talking and trying to match numbers and so far, nothing doing. Keep scrolling and the bottom line- bingo! We have a match!

I yell into the phone: “I’m jobless, R is deployed and now I have TAINTED FUCKING CRACKERS in my house! WILL IT EVER END?”

Ali paused to gauge my reaction, was I really melting down… over crackers? Were they the proverbial straw that broke this camel’s back?

I started laughing which was Ali’s cue to start laughing, too. We laughed for a good 5 minutes over those stupid tainted crackers and when the laughing finally subsided Ali breathed, “Girl, you are CRAZY!”

If only the lottery were this easy.

Random Observations to Avoid Talking About What I Don’t Want to Talk About

So in case you haven’t already heard, R deployed today. I’m not going to post about that because my sniveling about R being away and being gone has been done on this ‘chea blog and I just don’t feel like going there right now.

By the way, don’t hold me to that. It’s probably going to come one day when I’m drunk off my ass, haven’t heard from R in weeks and feeling sorry for myself.

But right now, let’s talk about TV. Yes, I know I post way too much about TV and it’s shocking to even me how much TV I have been watching lately. I never used to be like this. Call it boredom, call it … well, just call it boredom. Severe, unadulterated boredom.

Who watches the WE Network? Let me tell y’all, WE is the new Lifetime for me. Really, if you’ve seen one Lifetime movie you have seen them ALL.

In addition to a variety of wedding based shows WE offers (and I watch each & every one), I also get sucked into 20/20 reruns they play regularly. You want to kill an hour or 4? WE comes to the rescue with back-to-back episodes.

Tonight, while waiting for Top Chef to start, I got sucked into this episode of 20/20. Rather than commenting on that whole sad affair (and it really was heart wrenching), let’s focus on this:

Usually when I’m parked in front of the TV for hours on end I’m laying in bed and either reading a magazine, playing with the cats, reading a book, dozing off, staring into space while drool hits the pillow… but that mop? That had me sit up in bed. And you could also reasonably surmise that it had me expel further energy by having me dive for my phone so I could share it with you all.

I’m so offended by this hair. I mean we all have bad hair days but I think the chance of having a bad hair day is made exponentially greater when one a) let’s their roots grow out to unacceptable lengths b) let’s it do whatever the F it wants in an unbecoming frizzy lion’s mane (no disrespect to lions). And worst of all? She knew she was going to be on TV! This wasn’t some ambush interview!

I barely had time to recover from this… this… THIS… when a commercial for the Miss USA (I think? I was far too preoccupied recovering from horror hair) pageant and guess who’s host? Go on, guess…

No.
Nope.
Nyet.

Mario F’ing Lopez, y’all! Why is that skeeve-fest hosting a beauty pageant? My wit game is on Empty right now (in case you haven’t already noticed) so here’s where you can make up your own joke on what could be akin to MARIO F’ING LOPEZ in the same location with a multitude of supple young women: __________________________!

Haha! Good one!

Blessedly, Top Chef finally comes on. I never thought I’d be so happy to see Jamie’s whining ass in my life. And? I don’t hate Stefan like I normally hate the smug asshole front-runners (read: Hung). Stefan is annoying yet amusing while smug asshole front-runners are usually just annoying (Hung).

Some questions for you:

1. When Leah called the Red Snapper “skanky” in the quickfire, was I the only one that barked out: Skank for the skank! Just me? Fine.
2. When Leah and Hosea were making out on the couch, complete with porno music being played softly enough for their smooches to be heard, did you think you’d vomit? More than a little?
3. Were you surprised Jamie sleeps cuddled up with a stuffed animal? (Something Hosea and Leah SHOULD be cuddled up with instead of each other.)
4. Multiple choice time! When Hosea and Leah were acting all guilty the day of the challenge over “flirting too much” the night before did you think they: a) seemed awfully gutted over a few smooches b) SHOULD have been feeling guilty they way they have been carrying on thus far c) only felt guilty because they somehow figured out their “flirting” (Hosea, call it what it is) was caught on camera or d) all of the above?
5. Was Sunset Lounge a horrible name or am I scarred for life from a trip to a bar of the same name with my friend Veronica years ago? Something about guys buying us drinks and chatting us up all night with the night culminating in the guys telling us to take THEM to breakfast at Denny’s. And when we turned down this most chivalrous offer we were told: “We shouldn’t have bought your asses those damn drinks!” Classy. Wait… yeah. I still think Sunset Lounge would be an awful name.
6. Who had the better one-liner? Jeff saying he felt like a “hummingbird on cocaine” (so using that in the near future) or Fabio saying they could serve “monkey ass in an empty clam shell” and still win the challenge?
7. When they flashed on Stefan’s dessert, did you think the garnish was either green olives or jalapenos? Be honest:

I guess that’s enough fun for one night. Wait. I’ll end with saying something nice so you won’t think I’ve completely tossed myself down the pit of bitchy despair: Padma’s hair looked fantastic tonight. Whew. That took a lot out of me. I think I’ll go pour myself a drink. Til next time, sweeties!