Waiting. Alternate title: I guess I shouldn’t have inhaled all that glue and done that acid

So I got this job, like a real job.

Like with full benefits, so I can get my lady parts examined and my breasts checked and maybe even my teeth cleaned.

AND a fully matched retirement fund, paid vacations, free lunches, paid training…. It was really pretty and sparkly.

PLUS a real paycheck with real dough (unlike the fake paychecks I’ve been writing out to myself just to feel important).

And the company said things like: We want to help you grow to your fullest potential within the company.

And I felt special.

I cried a little bit when I signed my name on the dotted line, and I may have seen unicorns dance before my eyes.

Then the HR person sent me over to get fingerprinted.

Then all the unicorns fell to the floor in a giant heap and my crying turned to worry, because there was that one time I broke into Sizzler as a teenager to steal the little salt and pepper things (I’ll do anything on a dare).

I was then sent over to submit a drug test and I worried because I couldn’t remember if I smoked pot at the Christmas party or not, which is probably not a good sign.

So here I sit behind the safety of my computer monitor as the FBI digs through the pages of my life to determine if I am employable and ‘safe’ to work amongst other people.

Sure hope they don’t uncover that special time in my life when I ate small children for breakfast and sold Voo-Doo dolls on the street corner so I could buy crack cocaine. I also hope that the brief period I spent poking small dogs in the eyeballs for sheer pleasure doesn’t show up. That would be embarrassing.

Squatters

Our newest squatter is 18; I’ve known her for seven years, so when she asked to stay here of course I said yes. I never even thought twice about it. She’s adorable; she smells like freshly cut flowers, her hair is always nicely brushed and she has the clearest blue eyes I have ever seen.

Her name is Tasha and she calls me Aunt Mariah. Yesterday Tasha was having a moment; I knew it was hormonal so I gave her some warm milk and some chocolate, she cried (definitely hormonal). Tasha’s mom lives in some creepy cult with her two younger siblings and her dad is an unbearable alcoholic (and not a very nice one).

Her life is hard and she’s trying, she’s really trying and we’re here for her. Sadly it’s not enough though and I’m afraid she’s going to fall into the statistical melting pot. I know it’s not my job to parent her, but I can’t help it and I find myself staying up late wondering if she’s going to come home and hoping she’s safe.

When I find her bed made like this it makes me want to fold her up into a cute little box and let her start over. It also makes me want to throw pointed words at her parents because even though she’s eighteen, she’s still a little girl inside…

Teeny Tiny Tots

Since it’s Monday I’m going to share a secret recipe with you guys. Actually it has little to do with Monday and more to do with PMS, but I’m not going to go there today, you poor people have already heard more about my lady parts than you need to.

My children have named this recipe: Top Secret Teeny Tiny Tots.

It’s really quite simple and the top secret ingredients will have your guests drooling.

Ingredients:
Teeny Tiny Yellow Potatoes (that’s they’re actual name)
2 Tablespoons chopped Fresh Dill
1 tablespoon Thyme
2 cloves chopped Garlic
3 tablespoons Olive oil
1 teaspoon freshly ground Rock sea salt

~Boil your Teeny Tiny Yellow Potatoes in rapidly boiling water for about ten minutes or until they are slightly soft but not too gushy.

~Quickly rinse in cold water

~Heat some olive oil in a large pan or Wok.

~Add your Teeny Tiny Potatoes and the garlic; toss around a bit before adding the thyme and rock salt.

~After your Teeny Tiny Tots start to brown add in the freshly chopped dill and toss around some more.

If you’re like me you might want to add in another 2 tablespoons of freshly chopped dill…

And then maybe some more.

Don’t be afraid of the earthly goodness of the Dill, it’s an aphrodisiac, not a monster. And for Heaven’s sake use fresh Dill, not that dried up stuff in a jar. I’m telling ya, it’s all about the Dill.

Onto the Top Secret Ingredient… IT’S THE SALT!!!

Use rock sea salt and grind it up into a fine powder, the flavor is bold, but I swear, when you mix the freshly ground sea salt with the freshly chopped Dill it’s magical. Like Unicorns and Mermaids.

Tis’ YUM, I swear!!

Hoopla!

Chris and Alice In Wonderland Amanda,(my all grown up and going away to college soon daughter)planned a surprise party for me on Friday night for my birthday.

I was honestly surprised, I had NO IDEA! Chris and I went to coffee and played a mean game of Scrabble ( totally kicked his butt) and while we were gone Amanda got the whole thing set up!

When I walked in the door everyone yelled “surprise!” I was really surprised, it was awesome.

Daddy Geek Boy joined us and so did Coach Dadand his charming girlfriend (and his gaggle of lovely children who violated my guinea pigs in forty five different ways).

I hung with my besties by the fire…

…and my son graced me with his presence.

He didn’t really have a choice.

Some of my other besties got all dolled up for the occasion. Aren’t they cute with their make-up all fancy?

My childhood friends were there… and so were some new friends. Look at the little baby in her tummy getting his or her party on.

A good time was had, and Chris wore his I ‘heart’ Mariah T-shirt.

P.S. They wern’t really carrying those signs, but they might as well have been I have never felt so much love. I am truly blessed to have such amazing family and friends! And Chris you did an amazing job planning all this behind my back. I’ll thank you privately.

Cool Tools and Feel Good Rules

The elementary and middle school where all of my children have attended has this ridiculous thing called ‘Cool Tools.’

I don’t get it. I don’t really like it, but since it is the school’s philosophy I have encouraged my children to follow it when they are at the school. When they are home we don’t follow the ‘Cool Tools’ rules.

Basically ‘Cool Tools’ means you talk rather than yell, you compliment your peers and you involve everyone.

OK, that’s good and fine, but it doesn’t work in the real world. In the real world you are not going to like everyone and everyone is not going to like you. In the real world you are not going to be complimented on a job that is only half done or done in a half ass way. In the real world there is yelling and disagreements and I think that by instilling these ‘Cool Tool Rules’ at a young age we, as parents, are shielding our children from the real world.

The schools have another ridiculous ‘rule’ which is, for every put down you say you have to provide three ‘put ups.’

So basically if I called ‘Joey’ a jerk because he stole my handball I would have to then turn around and say three nice things to him.

I have a problem with that. How can you come up with three nice things to say to someone when you’re fuming??

Yesterday, my daughter Christie, who is in 5th grade, got into an argument and said some things that were mean to another kid. I asked her about the incident when I tucked her into bed last night. I said: “Did you do that silly ‘put up’ thing?” She replied saying that she was so angry that she couldn’t think of anything nice to say, so she lied and told the boy that he was wearing a nice shirt, nice shoes and that his teeth looked good (teeth looked good? where the heck did that come from?).

I asked her if it was true, she said: “No, his shirt was dirty, his shoes were ugly and his teeth had green stuff in them.”

When I asked her how she felt about it she said: “I lied because the teacher was standing over me and I wanted to play handball and I couldn’t until I said three nice things.”

Then she said: “The boy and I are friends again because we made-up after school and I told him the truth about the green stuff in his teeth and he didn’t care.”

So I told my daughter that she didn’t have to do the silly ‘Put Ups’ anymore and that she doesn’t have to play with people that she doesn’t like, because when she gets to middle school there WILL be people that she doesn’t like and people that don’t like her.

I’m tired of protecting her from the realities of the world with these silly ‘feel good’ school rules.

This is the first time I have done this, I have always been the parent that says: “You know the rules, follow them.”

But I can’t anymore, because I don’t think I’m doing my kid any good and I’m teaching her to lie.

So bring it principal… I’m totally prepared for your phone call!

Things I don’t get

By now most of you know that a trainer was killed while working with a Orca whale at Sea World.

Here’s a Yahoo article about it: Sea World

Of course I feel sadness for the woman’s family, extreme sadness.

The thing is, they’re Orca whales, they should not be in captivity and forced to jump and twist through the air while people watch. They wern’t meant to have their tummy rubbed or to balance things on the tip of their nose.

They were meant to swim in pods and hunt seals for food in the open ocean.

I admit to taking my kids to Sea World when they were younger, but only once. I left there with a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach and vowed to never return, and I haven’t. My youngest two children have never been there and they don’t want to. Same with the circus, can’t do it. I can’t watch the elephants being forced to perform. Just breaks my heart.

This topic is deep to my heart because I almost lost my daughter to a Japanese jail, because she wanted to go save the dolphins with the director of The Cove with only her surfboard. She’s a spunky one, I’ll give her that.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, except to say I’m sad. Sad for the whales, sad for the dolphins and sad for the trainer that lost her life in such a tragic way.

Really?

Um, I’m desperate. Like really desperate for a job, but I gotta draw the line somewhere. This is just gross!

——————————————————————————–
Date: 2010-02-23, 12:32PM PST
Reply to: job-p8anx-1614538863@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]

——————————————————————————–

The Hair Whisperers Lice Removal service is looking for independent contractors based in the South Bay to remove lice and eggs from people infected with lice. Chemical-free process. Qualified candidates should have valid driver’s license, great eyesight, feel comfortable going into people’s homes, be personable, good with children, and extremely detailed oriented. Squeamish people need not apply. A good sense of humor a plus! A background check is required, and references will be checked as well. To be considered, all applicants must include where they live, and what times and days they are available, particularly on weekends, although not weekends exclusively. Very inconsistent work, ranging from 5 – 15 hours a week, but can be more or less.
Driving is a large part of this job, and the longer you are willing to drive, the more you will work. You can set your own hours, and choose when you work, but should be available at least a block of time every day. No
9-5-ers looking to start work at 6 pm, as children often go to sleep at 8. Home visits range from one to four hours. We will train qualified applicants. Training is in Los Angeles and is unpaid, and takes about 5 hours. If you are hired a $75 deposit is required to take ownership of lice removal kit, and that will be returned when kit is returned.

Location: South Bay
Compensation: $20 an hour plus driving
This is a part-time job.
Principals only. Recruiters, please don’t contact this job poster.
Please, no phone calls about this job!
Please do not contact job poster about other services, products or commercial interests.

PostingID: 1614538863

——————————————————————————–

Copyright © 2010 craigslist, inc. terms of use privacy policy feedback forum

Um, so… yeah. I guess

Big News. A company has contacted me to do a reality show, at first I said: “No way” I don’t want to have to brush my hair and look all cute just so you guys can laugh at me. Plus there’s way too many silly reality shows and a look into our life would be a total flop.

I’m not your average girl, I don’t like to shop or get my nails done and the thought of getting a massage makes me nauseous. I like adventure, and danger and sleeping in tents while lightening strikes. I like to get lost and find alternate routes and I LOVE the fear of wild animals creeping in on me in the middle of the dark night. Basically I’m an adrenaline junkie.

After a week of exchanging emails with this company I suggested that we do a family adventure thing, like The Amazing Race, or Survival with a twist and with kids. Of course there would be a back story with the struggles we’ve faced complete with hokey music, and nights by the fire where we’re exhausted and crying. Then there will undoubtedly be the moment where I break down and admit all the wrongs I’ve done and the pain I’ve caused, or something like that.

We’ve played around with the details and such and what we have come up with is this:

The kids and I will backpack from here in Los Angeles, up the Pacific Crest Trail through Washington and Oregon and hopefully into Vancouver, while being filmed. We will have some spending cash for food but how we get there has to be creative, we can hike, hitchhike, bike or train hop, but we cannot pay for any type of transportation or lodging, we have to rough it the whole way. And we’re bringing the dogs.

This is right up my alley…

It’s not a for sure thing yet, there’s still details about gear, and insurance for the film crew and stuff like that. Personally I think it would be hilarious, the girls would give my son so much heat.

I can already hear it…

You’re the Boy Scout Cody, build us a fire….

Cody you got us lost; don’t you know how to read a compass??

Cody there’s a mountain lion, SAVE US!!

Cody, Cody, Cody…

So, what do you think?? Would you watch it?? Or should it just be blogged? Would YOU do it if you were given the opportunity? Or am I nuts?

P.S. Sorry about that whole health care tantrum in my previous post, sometimes it really gets to me.

Insanity

I am so frustrated with medical insurance. I have faced denial after denial; I have piles of crumpled up denial notes all over the house for reasons that are beyond my scope of understanding. I’m not a monster, I’m not even sick. All I want to do is get a fucking check up with a Dr. and I can’t because my medical history states: Bipolar, Depression, Stress and Cellulitis (which, for the record, is not cellulite, its swollen tissue from when I got angry and punched a wall. I have a bit of a temper).

I’m giving up; I’m tired of filling out form after form only to get denied. I’m tired of checking the little box that says: Does mental illness run in your family?

Why yes, yes it does. You fucktards!!

My uncle committed suicide, my aunt was permanently institutionalized and my mom has severe anxiety. Then there’s me, I’m irrational, reckless, and Bipolar (and no, I’m not angry that I received these gifts and my siblings did not. I mean I was angry, but thanks to intense therapy I’m good, for the most part), but does that mean I am supposed to curl up and die?? Does that mean that I’m not entitled to medical insurance?

Here’s the lame thing: I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t shoot up heroine and end up in this position. I was born like this and believe me when I say I have done everything in my power to hide these silly facts of my life… until recently.

Recently I have let it go, I’ve accepted it. Maybe even embraced it and I have learned how to manage the mania and turn it into creativity (scrubbing in-between the tiles at 4am with a toothbrush is creative, I swear) and when depression settles deep within my bones I deal with it.

I’m not even on medication anymore, I don’t need insurance for mental issues, all I want is a flippin’ breast exam and a pap smear. It’s not like I’m looking for a prescription for methadone and medical marijuana (although I wouldn’t complain about that).

I WANT IS TO GET MY VAGINA CHECKED OUT AND MY BOOBIES SQUASHED!!

That’s it, nothing else and I can’t because some shitwad Shrink decided that my life was un-insurable and he made sure that every single medical company in the history of medical companies knew it.

So I’m doing what I promised myself I would never do; I’m seeking government assistance and I feel like the biggest loser.

Anticlimatic Celery

For three days we’ve been doing our dishes in the front yard with the garden hose because the kitchen sink is clogged and some people in this house think that it will magically UNCLOG… ALL BY ITSELF!!!

Which didn’t happen. Duh!!

So I took matters into my own hands and created a mini volcano down the drain by dumping a cup of baking soda and some vinegar down there.

I sat back and sucked on a lemon popsicle while I watched the bubbles and listened to the FIZZ FIZZ FIZZZ of my creation. I felt like a genius.

The kids walked in and saw the bubbles and the fizzy mess in the kitchen sink and they thought I was crazy. Well, my son thought I was crazy and muttered something like why don’t you just call a plumber? as he walked out of the kitchen. The girls thought it was cool and quickly texted their friends to come over.

An hour later I had four teenage girls leaning over the sick with me dripping lemon popsicle stickiness all over the place. We added another cup of baking soda and then some more vinegar, you know…because if a little is good then a lot is better, right?

WRONG!

We had an eruption.

It was a mess; there was gooey smelly kitchen water everywhere, like on the ceiling and in the light fixtures. IN THE LIGHT FIXTURES!

Chris finally showed up with some acid crud and poured it down the sink. The acid mixed with the baking soda and vinegar created toxic fumes and we had to evacuate.

It was bogus.

On Sunday we finally gave in and called a plumber. The large man showed up with a Corona hat and a smudge of McDonalds ketchup on his chin. He had to snake out our drain for 70 feet and when he pulled out the snake he found celery.

Celery?

I paid $180 for fucking celery??

If the plumber pulled out pork and greasy tacos I would have happily forked over the bucks and embarrassingly smiled.

BUT CELERY???

It was anticlimactic.