Complaining Blog

Today I encountered two braggart moms withing 5 minutes of each other and I am so bugged about it. I know anyone reading this will laugh because I brag about my kids more then anybody. But I don't do it to strangers that I don't even know at the library (or elsewhere). And I usually try and make it something worth bragging about. I'm not going to try and impress the other kindergarten moms by telling them my kid already knows his numbers to 10 (actually happened!). And how am I supposed to respond when braggy mom tells me that her kid can already read "some sight words !" ? Applaud? Gasp, mouth agog, with hands on my face?? Do you expect me to organize a parade in their honor? "Five Year Old Reads Go Dog Go!"
Here's the deal: it's great you are proud of your kid. You should be proud of your kids. But, that doesn't mean I have to be proud of your kids. I don't know if you are trying to get a pat on the back or something for being such a super awesome mom but, let your kids performance be the indicator of their brilliance. And really, you don't need to approach random strangers to broadcast your child's superiority. If they really are superior, they will prove it on their own.

Welcome oh ye Hearers of Complaints!  I have been invited on as an anonymous guest-poster to complaining blog.  I hope I can live up to the humorous whining that has taken place so far on the forum for fomenting fault-finding, fabulous fretting, and fussiness flaunting fecundity.

The topic - Ocupy Wall Street (I refuse to use OWS, as only important or useful things should have acronyms.  Whenever I read a story that uses OWS, I always ask myself "Which year?  Will they have potions & defense against the dark arts?").  Protestors used to need a reason to protest.  They used to need some unifying theme or list of demands.  But our society has now managed to produce a breed of near pubescent "revolters" that require neither message nor reason.  They think that sleeping in their filth, committing crimes, screaming at bank walls (google it), and public urination are sufficient for a complaint and will somehow increase public dialogue.

Also, apparently there is some outrage about a "pepper spray" incident.  It looks kinda bad, but you have to ask yourself, "if it is illegal to camp there, and the police ask you to move, and you lock arms so they cannot move you, would you rather have a broken arm or pepper spray in the face?"  But luckily, we have the all-wise media to show us an example of police brutality and explain to us why Obamavillians are in the right again.

Good news, though.  I have a few solutions.  Set up a Job Fair in Zuccotti park and you will not believe how fast Obamaville will clear right out.  Alternatively, for all those who are risking their lives or breaking laws to get into our country for its opportunities, in an attempt to flee their povery-stricken, socialist countries, we could make a trade straight across.  In fact, we'll give you two of our protestors for one of your hard workers.  The protestors can go and love socialism together with the countries that have already adopted their policies.  It's mostly too bad they can't afford a boat ticket to Europe, where all their socialist ideals are continuing to create the utopia they dream of.  First stop, Greece.  Make sure to bring your tent and your bucket... you are going to need them.

It's been 3 years of glorious complaints. Glorious. I feel like after all this time I should bring forth an issue that I have only briefly addressed in prior posts. Nevertheless, this topic must be mentioned. The reasons it must be addressed are three fold. 1) It is super-fugly. 2) I want all the world to be clear on my feelings for this "situation". 3) I have hopes that additional public mockery will make the offending parties desist in their silly behaviors in this area.

I have only a few words to say about it. Here goes. Ratted hair. What? Why is it shaped like that? Are we meant to believe that their head is shaped like that? What is the goal of hair ratting? Because if it is to make prettier hair then we are failing at societal hair prettiness ideals. It is gross under all conditions. Unless maybe if you have some sort of head deformity you are trying to hide under there...

As an example of what ALL hair ratting ends up looking like, (Yes, all! I don't care if you think yours doesn't look like this. It does.) I present this video, which coincidentally is hilarious and you should watch the entire thing. (Mom, DO NOT WATCH IT! It has a bad swear at the end.) This guy's hair looks like a Utah/ Idaho girls.

Finally, a suggestion if you insist on having poofy hair: A hampster would make a fun "Bump-It".

After a long time without looking on Complaining Blog I returned to view it's whiney splendor and I realized something. Emily and I are super funny. So you're welcome everyone. And should you wish for Complaining Blog to continue to flourish, please persist in your assinine behavior and we will persist in complaining about it in super funny ways. See below for examples.

A popular song was played during a break at a football game I attended today. A gentleman I know turned to another and said "Are noises set to a beat technically considered music now?" in a snarky sort of voice. Um... yes. I'm pretty sure that is the exact definition of music. 

If you do the harmony parts when singing group "Happy Birthday" then you are annoying. I don't care how pretty you think your voice is. You. Are. Annoying. Also, the song does not sound any better with your "Happy Birthday, Starring ME!!!" version than it does in the regular version. Just more annoying. No one needs you to spoil their birthday like that.

Since when did everyone's kids get so lazy? How come every kid is like "I don't do chores. That's for peasants."? Or sometimes they say "I didn't get enough sleep last night so I don't have to do anything today". When did this happen? Because last I remember you still have to do stuff even if you stay up too late watching Blue's Clues, or whatever they watch. Plus you have to clean up the crumbs that you spill all over when you throw your goldfish crackers at the other kids. How did these basics of humanity stop happening? Beats me.

Since when did chalk get so trendy? Everywhere I look there is some new way to incorporate chalk into your life. There is furniture painted with chalk paint, tutorials on how to make your own chalk paint, and no home with children in it is complete without one wall completely dedicated to a humongous chalkboard. Well, I've got news. I hate chalk. So much. I once taught a class that had a chalkboard in it and I would bring in a whiteboard from home so I wouldn't have to touch it. When that got too cumbersome I would just put on gloves whenever I needed to write on the chalkboard. I hate how gritty chalk feels. And the sound it makes when you write with it....so gross. So does that make me a bad mom because I don't have a wall sized chalkboard for my kids and because I won't write with sidewalk chalk with them? Probably.

Adult on adult lap sitting often ends up being just plain weird, and not romantic or fun like it seems.

Concerned reader, Adrienne, sent me the following message regarding the carts at IKEA: "I swear they have cameras in the break room and all the employees just sit there and watch us, laughing as we, innocent customers, walk around like retards trying to control those things."

And then she told me a story about getting stuck in a pothole in the IKEA parking lot, her cart being full of picture frames and children. All because she couldn't control her "special needs" cart. So then I had to laugh for a while. Then it got me to thinking. Adrienne makes an excellent point. Why on earth does IKEA have such wonky carts? My theories range from passive aggressive anger at the arrogant Americans from the Swedes; a hobo being on their Cart Design Team and that was his expert advice; or maybe just Europeans legitimately don't know how carts work. You know, cause they don't have things like Costco and Walmart over there. They go down to their fancy shops to get their bread and cheese and that's what they eat for the day. They aren't loading up on extra large boxes of fish crackers and  jumbo deluxe packages of toilet paper.

I was at IKEA just the other day and I seriously could not stop the cart from running into their display furniture. Just when you think you've found the sweet spot for pushing it veers out of control and runs into an EKTORP sofa or something. So, for all you Europeans out there, here is how a cart is supposed to work: all the wheels go in the same direction; when you push forward, the cart goes forward; when you wish to turn, the cart turns at the same push-to-turn-ratio of effort you are exerting instead of spinning wildly out of control. It is not a hard concept, although apparently one that is foreign to some people (specifically, the IKEA Cart Designers).

Also I love your meatballs. That is all.

I would just like everyone to refer back to THIS prior complaining blog post written by Emily as an explanation for why my hair currently looks that way it does. I can't go get it done. I don't have a good hair-do girl. Choices: Have scraggle ends and 4 inches of re-growth or have Nancy Hicks Gribble hair. It appears I've made my choice. I'll call this hairstyle "homeless-lady chic".

Voila: a French term. Translated literally it means "see there" or "look there". Often it is used in English to suggest an appearance as if by magic.

It is not wa-la, walaa, wa law, or any other retarded person variation of the actual word "voila". What kind of friggin moron do you have to be to seriously think that wa-la is the correct way to write that word? Or any word?

It's true, sometimes the transgressor is ourselves. I feel like I have had a profusion of embarrassing experiences lately. Nothing huge, just those situations that afterwards you do a mental 'DOH!' Sometimes I'll say something that, immediately after I say it, I'll wish I could retract whatever awkward thing it was I said. Or I'll do something with the best of intentions and it totally turns out horrible. Usually these experiences are a little more spread out but there seems to be quite a concentration of them lately. I may need to be a hermit for a little while so that everyone can forget my social mishaps.

I suppose it's rather educationally elitist of me, but I pretty much hate when people run preschools out of their house.

Um, what training or background do these people have that qualifies them to run a preschool? What resources do they have at their house that makes it an appropriate place to hold a preschool? And most importantly, do they really think that the children attending the preschool they run out of thier basement that consists of other kids playing with their own kids toys and sometimes coloring a paper with a letter on it is going to be the best education those children can recieve? Ugh! People are idiots!!!

This is the thought process I imagine is behind this phenomenon: "Hey, I've have a 4 year old. Isn't there some way I can make money off of that?"

Just because you squashed a couple kids out of your vag doesn't mean you are qualified to run a school. I guess some parents are ok with paying for their kids to play with another kids toys. Whatever. I just happen to think that children can actually learn stuff at that age, rather than making fugly hand turkeys in someone's basement at $200 a month.

Is it so wrong of me that I prefer not to socialize with proponents of doing the "Mormon Pioneer Trek"? Because I think anyone who thinks that is a good/fun/spiritual idea must be a friggin idiot. It's ok if I just ignore those weirdos, right?

You would think from the fury and frequency of my complaints these days that I am on my period or something. I am not. I just have a lot of feelings.

So, I know I've totally done this before so I'm a hypocrite for saying anything, but I hate when people think that the thing they are going through is so much worse than it was for everyone else who went through it.

The problem with saying that your commonplace event is soooooo hard is that we have all done that thing that you are complaining about and it wasn't that bad. Sure it sucked. Lots of stuff sucked. But I promise, if literally 100% of the people who you know made it through their identical situation, then you are probably going to survive too.

Besides, I'm not exactly sure what people think is going to happen to them from going through stressful situations. Do people really think that they are going to not be able to make it? What do they think will happen? No one has died from their spouse taking the bar. No one has exploded from their kids having to stay inside due to poor weather. No one has or ever will spontaneously combust because they have more morning sickness than anyone ever. Eventually the stressful situation will be over and I hope they feel stupid for having been such a bawl-baby. Everyone just needs to stop being so friggin dramatic about their petty life problems. It makes me want to set myself on fire.

All the Home Birth peeps say that you HAVE to watch the amazing documentary on home births. (I'm not pregnant of course, nor am I considering it in the near future. But I do have a lot of child-bearing aquaintances and this particular topic freaks me out an especial much so I was curious to see what all the buzz was about. Plus I might do the human baby, not dog baby thing someday.) It's called The Business of Being Born, and it is produced by Ricky Lake, so right away you know its going to be awesome. Blah, blah, blah, women are so stupid who go to hospitals, doctors don't know anything, hospitals are for sick people,women don't educate themselves on birth, hospitals are ruining the bonding experience by forcing drugs on mothers, midwifes are better, midwifes are so experty, home birth is the only smart way and if you don't do it at home you are putting your baby in danger of those greedy doctors who just want to slice you open for money. Blah, blah blah.

It made me so mad that I watched another one called Pregnant in America. Same thing. Doctors are greedy and clueless and don't care about anything but getting your kid out in time for their vacation. Midwifes at your house are the only safe and smart person way. Any other way will ruin your baby and give it ADHD.

Sure. Home birth is the best. Except if you are the main lady in documentary #1- if she had tried to give birth to her premature breech baby at home by squashing it out of her vag she would have broken it's neck and killed it. Plus had it made it out alive it would have died from being premature. She ended up having a c-section. Or the lady in documentary #2, who did give birth at home and ended up having to take her baby to the hospital by ambulance afterward, where the baby stayed for 7 days in the NICU. They put this in the documentary and are still trying to tell you that home birth is best! I guess if you are commited enough to your opinion on the matter to make a documentary then you are too commited to the idea to see the facts that are contrary to your opinion.

Another thing was about how much more cost effective it is to use a mid-wife instead of going to the hospital. Of course it is. Duh. Hospitals are full of expensive, life-saving equipment and trained professionals, all of which must be paid for. Midwifes come to your house, spray a little Pam down there and tell you to breathe. Which one sounds more costly? But here's an idea- if you can't afford to have a baby, don't have one!


Geez. If someone wants to have their baby in a bathtub, or make the placenta into a vest, or whatever other weird thing these crunchy people do, fine. No one cares. Get it out however you want. But do it in a hospital! And that is my feelings on home births.

So many times in stores these days I'm like "ooh, cute maxi dress!" And then, bam, it's a jumper.

A word on couponing.

No wonder all the stuff I want to buy at the grocery store is not there! It's sitting in some couponers basement gathering dust, just like my mom's roll-on-deodorant collection of the early 90's. Why do you EVER need to buy 10 bottles of ketchup? I know you can get them .86 cents each, but WHY? Why would a person do that?

There is no way you can ever use ten bottles of ketchup (or 16 boxes of pop-tarts, or whatever) before it is gross. Yet, to the couponer, this is irrelevant. They only notice that they are getting a great deal on crap that they can classify as "food storage" and put in their basement, right next to the yak lubricant that they got for only .15 cents a gallon and will never, ever use, until their whole house if full of cheap gross food. But it was a good deal!

Did they ever consider leaving some tortillas for the rest of us to buy? I just want one. Is that such a sacrifice, couponers? To leave one tortilla for me? Or must you have all 16 bags to cram into your deep freeze until you pull them out three years later when they have become an ice encrusted mystery?

And if they are getting such a great deal on all these tons and tons of food, why do I read (on facebook no less! Facebook is not a place to write about your trip to the grocery store or your child peeing themself! It is supposed to be for things that don't make everyone else want to barf!) about couponers going to the store twice a week? If you really buy that much food the only way you can eat it is if you are horrifyingly obese, or have 12 children. Oddly, the specific couponer I am complaining about is neither. So why does she need to go to the store 2x a week when she already bought 10 gallons of maple syrup last week? Can't she make something with that?

Leave some groceries for the rest of us you greedy couponers. And go through all the crap you've purchased and check the dates. I'm sure at least half of it is expired. Now you'll have to go back to the store!

Here is a list of things I wish for:

1. That I never, ever, ever had to pump my own gas. It is my least favorite job.
2. I have a lot of feelings about the stupid crap people do! Why can't I tell them how stupid/annoying they are being and just have it taken as the fact that it is instead of some huge deal? Of course, ideally people would just not be stupid in the first place.
3. That all indoor spaces were kept at 76*. All the time. The only exceptions are steam rooms.
4. A pogo stick.
5. No tomatoes would ever touch my food in any way. Except for lasagna and still it should be mostly cheese.
6. It was ok to laugh at ugly babies. Sometimes they just look like old men. Why do I still have to call them cute? It's not cute. It's hilarious. But I can't laugh at them. It's not like the baby will care!
7. That Obie didn't hide under the bed. What is he doing under there?
8. More unicorns.
9. To never have to listen to a discussion about politics again.
10. A zillion dollars.
11. The perfect sofa. I finally find one I love only to discover that the cushions aren't removable. How can you have a sofa if you can't clean under the cushions?! That's disgusting. But it's so pretty...
12. To not have to look at pictures of tragic 3rd world country children on internet advertisements. That is not helping me want to donate money. It's just making me sad and grossed out.
13. EVERYONE would wear deoderant.
14. More people got what they deserved.
15. Pedicare stores stayed open later.
16. Malls stayed open later.
17. All rolling back-packs would explode.
18. My nails grew at the same rate on each finger.
19. "Business Shorts" were not a thing.
20. To be able to select the memories I wanted to remember. Like, grandparents- yes remember. My mom's friend Esther and her kids and how they smelled- not remember.

End of list.

I know I'm a teensy bit racist. And I don't even care, because I just read an article about how angry people were at a fabric designer who draws images of her own childhood on her fabrics for not including more people of color. Um... if she didn't have any people of color present during her childhood then why would she depict them in drawings of her childhood? And who the hell cares?! Why would anyone care what she puts on her fabric? If (fill in race here) don't like it because it doesn't have (whatever race) people on it then they shouldn't buy it! It's totally racist of them to expect her to alter her art to suit their race!

Jeez. I swear it's like if we don't all act super guilty for being white then we're doing it wrong. Well guess what? Now I'm offended that there aren't any white people on my Chili's menu! And I'm offended that the Wal-Mart commercials don't have any white people in them! (Ha ha... probably cause the Wal-Mart doesn't have any white people in it. They all shop at Target.) Why isn't my race being represented in a positive way?!?! See how stupid it sounds?

The thing is, if people of other races want to see themselves represented on fabric, or whatever, then make it happen! It's not up to the fabric designer to make sure that whoever's niece looks like the girl in her fabric. I hope her next fabric is of a giant white butt mooning everyone. Take that racists!

Every single thing about air travel. Every. Single. Thing.

1. Why does faxing still exist? Why is it even happening anymore? Is there a single thing on this planet that wouldn't be better off if it was emailed instead of faxed? No there is not. Faxing is retarded.

2. Old people being rude on the phone. Why? Yelling "I WANT TO TALK TO THE PERSON IN CHARGE!!!!" is not going to make any situation better. So what the heck, oldies?

Today when I was going into the DSW there was a dad next door with his little girl and he was screaming at her. Out on the sidewalk in front of everyone full on screaming in her face. He was even using the F word. Apparently she had asked for a toy or something in the store that they were at (a kids store, go figure that she would ask for a toy there). Everyone was totally watching them and talking about how horrible that guy was. But no one stopped him, I can't judge them because I didn't either. But he was huge and obviously angry. What could anyone have done except make him angrier? Now I feel bad that I didn't do anything. Should I have tried to talk to him? Call the police? I feel so bad for that little girl. I wasn't even able to enjoy my shoe shopping because of him. I seriously hope that guy gets genital crabs. And I don't mean the STD kind. I mean actual crabs on his genitals. The kind that have big pincher's.

I hate, I Hate, I HATE  any and all advertisements that get in the way of what I am trying to look at on the computer. Like when you are looking at a website and the little box pops up asking you to take a friggin survey. NO! I will not take your lame survey, Home Shopping Network! Let me shop in peace! Or when you click on a news story but you end up going to the Febreeze site because right as you click on the news the Febreeze pops up and covers the whole page with its advertisement video about a cat!! I HATE IT SO MUCH!!! When are people going to stop being so stupid that this kind of "punch you in the eyeballs" advertising works on them?! Companies wouldn't do it if it wasn't working. I make a concious effort to not buy products with annoying advertisements. Also I am going to start saving Obie and Fifi's twosies and send them in the mail to all the companies that are too annoying. That means you, Geiko!

A complaint. (c/o Annie)


If you are a fence man it is inappropriate to do the following:

-Ask to use the restroom inside someone's home.

-Take the stinkiest dump humanly possible

-Leave poop stains in my toilet


Sick. My bathroom had to be on quarantine until I scrubbed it with bleach 100 times
 
** Seriously, this is the worst thing ever. A stranger pooping in your home?! I would just have to burn the house down. No other options.
 
Thank you for your submission, Annie.**

When people have abnormally big hands it always totally grosses me out. Or big feet. Both equally disgusting. I think I would have embraced the Chinese tradition of feet binding if I would have lived during that time. And been Chinese.

I have another thing to say today. Remember how I complained about the doctor's office? Well, after waiting the appropriate 3,000 years for my appointment, I went, was seen by the doctor, drove across town and had my blood drawn and was done in an hour, start to finish. Then they called me the next morning at like 9:01 with my test results. WHAT?! I sort of forgive you, doctor.

I hope all the smokers hurry up and die. They are making it really stinky for the rest of us.

This is a serious complaint. I've chosen to do on the blog because I've already complained to all the actual people I know and they are sick of hearing it but I don't feel better yet, so I have to blog it out.

Why's everything gotta suck so bad? When will the sucking end? What is one to do to make the sucky stuff suck less? And most importantly, why does everyone keep telling me that other people have sucky stuff too? Is that supposed to make me feel better? It doesn't. I already know that other people have sucky stuff and it doesn't change the suckyness level of my stuff.

I'm tired. Tired, tired, tired, of all the things, and from lack of sleep over dreading and pondering all the things. I'm tired of trying to pinpoint where I went wrong that led me to this point, and trying to figure out how everyone else took the same steps and ended up somewhere else. And I'm tired of comiserating with friends about our problems, feeling better that I have a friend who can relate, and then watching their problem go away, and they are moving forward and their life is getting better, and my problem is still sucky, and it never goes away.

At least I have Woobie and Original Sauce and Little Baby (Justin, Obie, Fifi). They make me feel better most of the time, except for when Little Baby cries too early in the morning and I have to hate her because sleeping in is the whole reason I have dog babies and not people babies and she's ruining it. I still mostly love her. I just shut her in the closet when she's too loud.

That is all. I actually do feel a little better.

Step 2: Call the blood drawing place for an appointment. "Uh, gwe don't hab no appoinmenths.. Ju can jutht com een gwen ju wan." (Apparently they will suck your blood only on a walk-in-basis).

Step 3. Go to blood drawing place and repeat step 3 of 'Doctor's Office, Part 1', doubling the time and stink level. Say a silent prayer of gratitude for internet on my phone. Watch as seven Mexican families with at least 6 children each in tow go before me because the Mexican working the front desk likes them best. They are probably all cousins.

My blood drawing guy, Igor.



Dear Mexi-man in the swimming and hot-tub area of 24 Hour Fitness,

Grey boxer briefs do not count as a swimsuit. Not at all.

Sincerely Grossed Out,

Melodie

P.s. Are you by any chance employed as a leaf-blower? If so, my angry fists have a message for you.

Preliminary side note: When Justin was little he always said that when he grew up he wanted to be a doctor's office or a pair of pajamas. Weird.

I need to go to the doctor. I need some prescriptions renewed and have for some time and I keep putting it off. Because here's what it's like going to the doctor:

Step 1: Call for an appointment. Girl answers the phone. "It looks like we have an opening in October of next year in the middle of the work day- would you like that appointment?" Me: "Do you have anything earlier in the day?" Her: "Our next opening is in January of 2 years post-apocalypse. You'll need to bring your own anti-radioactivity and zombie protective gear. It's at 9am".  Me: "I'll take it!"

Step 2: Wait x years. Put on my foam suit (I got the pattern from Judy) and go to the office. Go extra early to ensure adequate time to navigate the maze and find "Suite 8009.7b". Find office, check in, fill out 29 different papers saying that I will agree to arbitration should the doctor be incompetent, and 134 pages of medical history, all with that little pen with the giant gerber daisy taped to it.

Step 3: Man who smells of pee sits next to me and coughs up furballs, despite the 13 empty chairs in the room. Mexican lady's kids have licked all the magazine's so I can't find out what Cosmo thinks are the 10 hottest things to say to your pool-boy.  After four hours it's my turn to go back.

Step 4: I do not even need to mention the horrors of getting on the scale. Skip straight to when they take me into the doctor room, where I wait another 2 hours. I'm never sure if I'm supposed to sit on the table thats covered in paper, or if I'm allowed to just sit in the chair, or if I can sit on the doctor's spinny stool until he gets there. Luckily there is plenty of time for me to try all three, and sneak some cotton balls into my purse before the doctor gets there.

Step 5: I tell the doctor "These are the prescriptions I want. Please." He says "You probably have either bubonic plague or women's polio. I'm going to need to send you for some tests before I can fill those prescriptions."

Doctors Office, Part 2 coming soon, detailing the gremlin lady who draws my blood for her vampire overlord, and the cost thereof.

Dear Mexi-man,

Since you found it incumbent to weed-whack right outside my bedroom window at the first light of day this morning, I am going to be using that weed-whacker on your stupid face.

Sincerely,

Melodie

P.S. This sentiment also applies to leaf-blowing. I will seriously kill you.

Lets pretend for a moment that you were really committed to... I don't know- becoming an exclusively "tasteful nudes" family photagrapher. You can imagine whatever you want. Just something that is an untraditional and possibly a dumb choice. If you were totally commited to doing it and thought it was the best idea ever, would you care what anyone else said about it? OR, would you get totally defensive and upset when anyone mentioned "Huh, tasteful nude family photographer. That's an unsual choice."? Because if you really thought that it was a great idea, why would you care so much what other people thought?

In case you couldn't tell, I'm having a beef right now with people who make stupid/unusual choices, then get mad when other people remark upon their choice. If they think it such a great idea and have a 37 reasons to back up why it such a great idea, then why must they write an angry blog post about how stupid we all are for not agreeing with their choice? I JUST DON'T GET IT!

If one intentionally chooses the stupid choice, knowing that there are other options out there but they choose stupid anyway, they just need to be cool with the fact that they chose stupid and everyone knows it. There can be no "You are all stupid for not building your home business as a tasteful nudes family photographer" bloggy word vomits. If they need to get all defensive about their choice then maybe they aren't as comitted to it as they are blogging that they are, which makes them look stupid for doing their stupid thing in the first place.

It drives me crazy when you invite a kid to a birthday party and the mom drops the kid off, with all the siblings. Did the invite say "siblings included"? No. Then you have to scrounge around like crazy to arrange all the games and goodie bags to include more people- people that your kid, the one having the birthday party, is not friends with. Furthermore, the siblings are not the same age as all the other party goers so you either have one kid that is older than everybody else that is dominating all the games or you have one that is way younger than the other kids and you have to babysit them for the duration of the party. And it's not like the siblings add extra loot to the party, from what I've observed the parents who drop off extra kids usually just send a general "family gift", not a gift from each attendee. Also annoying- uninvited parents who hang around and expect to be fed and want to sit and chat while you are clearly trying to organize a relay race with 8 screaming kids (2 of them uninvited). I think the general birthday rule is if you are not invited than probably the party is not for you.

Men's jewelry.


Plus, why does everyone want you to pay 10% less than what they paid for something, even though their cat goes in/on it to throw up?
"Gently used denim sofa, just needs a light spot cleaning. Paid $1500 retail in 1998. Asking $1350."

In summation, don't try to make a sizable profit on your sh**y old stuff. Also post pictures so I can see what ugly things people are selling today.


What is this? Why would someone put this picture on the internet and think that another person will pay money for whatever is in this picture?



The following things are really frosting my cake these days:

1. Old people. How do they not understand that we normal age people can't always facilitate their oldiness? We have lives to live, after all.

2. Leggings as pants. Still.

3. Gas prices, obviously.

4. Honkers. You can't just honk at people at random. Honking should be for emergencies and saying hello only. If you are pissed off about how someone is driving just yell at them from the safe distance of inside your car like the rest of us do.

5. Inappropriate indoor temperatures. It should be 76*. That is it.

6. Over-facebooking. Um, we don't need to know that your baby finally had a bowel movement after 3 days of constipation! There are just some things you don't facebook!

7. People who don't like their kids. Don't they know that you get to choose whether or not, and when to have them? If you are just going to hate them and only ever talk about how miserable they make you, don't have any! It's real easy and you'll get a lot more sleep!

8. The resurgence of wide leg jeans. I look so gross in them. And all pants.

9. I can't seem to find a lady product that is between and liner and pad. Just a nice middle ground. Why does that not exist? Or does it and I just can't find it? (This is totally in the non-facebookable category. Blogs are different probably.)

10. Fast walkers. I hate when people are always zipping around all speedy, as though the things they have to do are soooo important that if they don't walk at top speed the world will cease to function. No one is thinking "Oh, look how speedy that person moves about! They must be very busy and important to need to walk so quickly! I can tell that they are an intelligent and productive member of the community because of the bustling style in which they are shopping for thier groceries!" Duh.

End

The rules for the elevator are: 1st, people get OFF the elevator. 2nd, people get ON the elevator. You can't just hop in there whenever you want and block the door for everyone who wants to exit!

It isn't like I live in primitive Africa where they have never used an elevator before! People should know how this works! I swear it is like they think they won't be able to get on unless they barge right through the hole as soon as the doors open.

Next time I'm going to fart in there. Then we'll see how they feel about their over-eager elevator entering.

I would like to announce that everyone sucks. Everyone who says bad things about where I live, that is. Seriously, we went to UT (again) recently and it seems like every person who knows we live in CA needs to say every rude thing ever about it. "California is so (fart noise)! There is just so much (fart noise)! There are so many (fart noise)! It is so (fart noise)! The (fart noise) is so (fart noise)!". I've substituted fart noise for all the asinine things people say.

The variety of insults is astounding, especially considering that none of these people have been to California more that twice and while here have never been more than 30 yards from Disneyland. (Understandably. That's a hard trip to make riding a cow, which is the preferred method of transportation for the adults in this story. Their kids ride sheep. I wish I was joking that the kids ride sheep, but I'm not).

Here is all I have to say in response to that kind of jack-assery. I live in a really nice place. It is clean and safe and pretty and has a lot of fun things to do nearby. I really like it a lot. Plus, it is warm all year and one time I saw Posh Spice on the freeway.

Let's do a review of where the insulter lives, shall we? Seventeen 99 cent stores, no sidewalks in 40% of the town, people literally ride sheep for entertainment, the only ethnic diversity is the one adopted black kid (unless you count the polygamists as a diverse group), huge drug problem, all Title 1 schools, the air is filthy- possibly from all the fires to combat the frigid temperatures, and it is butt ugly. Sure, there's no traffic in their town- there is nowhere to go and no one to go there! The exception to that no-traffic rule is on rodeo day. Rodeo day is insane.

Also, soooooo many comment about how expensive it is! If it were really so terrible would like, 15 million people choose to live here? Probably not. It is true that I could afford a nicer house somewhere else. But guess what? I don't want to. I prefer my tiny condo house here to a mansion in ________. You can fill in that  blank with the names of all the towns I don't live in.

Last thing- Someone said to me "Would you really want to raise kids there?" First of all, I don't have kids and won't for quite a while so how is that even a relevant question?  But more importantly, Yes! It is a wonderful place to raise kids! Unless you are terrified that they might befriend the colored folk, go to awesome places (Disneyland!, etc.), or enjoy the majesty of the sea.

In conclusion, everyone's town sucks a little bit, including mine (only I don't care cuz I love it despite its flaws, which is how you do in a committed relationship). There are good things and bad things about everywhere only apparently no one considers it poor manners to mention the bad stuff any time they feel like it. Now that it's ok to insult places that other people love... Sanpete County, UT: You smell like turkey sh*$ and gave me a substandard education.You are boring. I hope I never see you again. That's right, not even for Pageant.(Sorry you still have to go there Emily.) That is all.

What happened to kids knowing how to tie their own shoes? Did that go out of style or something?

Since I live in the middle of an Arctic Tundra I decided it was necessary for me to have a puff coat- as much as I loathe the idea. Seriously, who wants to look like a marshmallow when they go out? The alternative, however, was to absolutely never leave the house from September to May. Which I tried, unfortunately, we have to eat and kids have to go to school. Ug. After much soul searching and internet scouring I find a tolerable coat- not too poofy, not too expensive ($100ish), and it was in a lovely deep brownish-red. The website described the color as Beet-Root. Doesn't it fill your mind with images of things in nice, deep, earthy-tones? That's how it looked in the picture. So I ordered it and eagerly awaited my new lovely colored puff coat. Imagine my horror and disgust when I opened my package and got out a coat that only could be described as Berry Fuchsia. A marshmallow coat in Magenta. I was so mad! Now I have to load my kids up to take them to the mall- in the winter, with no coat on (I'm not wearing that monstrosity!). And taking my kids to the mall is seriously like trying to herd cats. I love them dearly- however, they aren't good mall-goers (my children. I don't know if cats are good mall-goers or not, having never taken them). What I'm so mad about, though is, why couldn't they have had the real color of the coat online? I know monitors affect how colors show up but I know my computers' colors aren't that messed up. I really feel like I've been duped into having a Berry Fuchsia puffy coat. And I'm very upset about it.

Kids are bad. Maybe not yours, but most. They are this way by nature, and need no help in becoming more unruly or buttheady. So when I see little kids dressed in shirts that confirm and accentuate their buttheadyness it pisses me right off. Why would someone dress their kid in a shirt that says "School Sucks!" or "I'm Spoiled" or whatever other stupid, mean thing? I don't get it. Don't you want people to think your kid is nice? Don't you want your kid to be respectful? So why the crude shirts? I hate them- both the shirts and the parents who put their children in them. And nose-pickers. Gotta hate nose-pickers.