Things that made me go Hmm… Week 4 (Or, “Meet Tyrone”)

Crap.

How is it Saturday already? Didn’t I just do this?

*sigh*

My work is never done…

The things that made me go “Hmm…” this week are going to be a bit different. More of a recap to the holiday festivities. Here you go…

  • It has come to my attention, that my sister is one raving lunatic of a control freak. (Mug sister, not “My 6 year old is a dictator in the making” sister.) It has become somewhat of a tradition in my family that every Thanksgiving will be an opportunity to get crafty and create special Christmas decorations. So far we have created fabric Christmas balls, painted Christmas balls, bell ornaments, snowflake ornaments, and a bunch of other crafty crap I can’t think of right now. This year, we made sock snowmen. My control freak of a sister had already created a few to show us what they would look like and to provide us with a template of which to follow. The snowmen were adorable, but they all looked exactly the same…
sock snowmen

Sure, they’re cute, if you’re into cookie cutter cuteness.

So, I took it upon myself to create snowmen with personality… Meet Tyrone:

Tyrone

Tyrone is a bad ass. He knows what’s up.

I thought my sister was going to die. Why was he so fat? Why were his eyes so big? Why were his eyes so close together? Why was his face so short? WHY WAS I DOING IT WRONG?!

Clearly, there is a right way, and a wrong way to create sock snowmen. My way was the wrong way. My way was the fun, creative way. Her way was the stupid way. My way was far superior to her way. But when it comes to being the Martha Stewart of the family, there is a right way and a wrong way to craft, and I was not taking the craft session seriously and my snowman was not cute and he was weird and what kind of a name is Tyrone for a snowman anyway?!

Clearly, I win because Tyrone is fantastic. (And okay, I may have gotten copious amounts of satisfaction from doing it the ‘wrong way’.)

  • My cat is a total cuddle slut. He doesn’t care who he gets cuddles from as long as he’s getting cuddles. This was evident when I walked in the door yesterday evening, and he looked at me and yawned. He didn’t care I was home. My dear friend who had stopped in to check on him in my absence was good enough for him. He was getting his cuddles. I was just another cuddle-giver to him. No loyalty what-so-ever. Sometimes Winston is a bastard.
  • And lastly, Kristen Bell is a total fruitcake when it comes to sloths:

That’s all I’s gots, peeps.

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MIA

I’ve been MIA for a while and for that I apologize. It’s not that I don’t have anything to say… I have plenty to say, I just don’t know how to say it. And maybe, just maybe, the desire to say it isn’t really there right now.

Between finalizing a divorce, the holidays, and planning for the future (both long term and short term), I’ve been too busy to put my thoughts down in any kind of coherent manner.

So, until things clear up, I may be in and out.

Later, peeps.

Who’s po? That’d be me…

It’s been an expensive month.

Snow tires put on car: Check

Replace battery for car: Check

Highlights for hair which are completely unnecessary and possibly ridiculously frivolous: Check

Gas money for quick trip to drop off donations to shelter: Check

Gas money to visit sister in the big city for Thanksgiving: Check

Gift card for neighbor for jumping dead car: Check

New jeans to hang out in because all the current jeans I own are “too nice” to just “hang out” in (and I needed another ridiculously frivolous purchase): Check

New printer, scanner, copier: Check

New cell phone and plan: Upcoming

Gift card for friend watching Winston while I take off for Thanksgiving weekend: Upcoming

A total of 2 subbing jobs all month and a minimal spousal support agreement finally reached with the ass hat: Priceless.

I am officially “po”, peeps.

And totally rocking this whole divorce thing…

I can’t take it anymore…

I think I may need to resort to dressing in long underwear.

Sexy, right?

Sexy, right?

Because I can’t live like this peeps. I am freezing… all the freazin’ time.

Coffee doesn’t keep me warm. Turning on the heat doesn’t keep me warm. Wearing fingerless gloves and slippers and hats indoors doesn’t keep me warm. Ridiculous looking, oversized, clunky sweaters don’t keep me warm. Multiple layers of everything don’t keep me warm. Cuddle-slut cats with fur problems don’t keep me warm. Happy thoughts of Jon Hamm don’t keep me warm.

NOTHING IS WORKING.

The fact that the house is ridiculously drafty, we’ve had high winds and temperatures hovering in the teens and dropping below zero at night for the last week and a half, and my mother’s hesitancy to turn on the heat because of high fuel heating costs doesn’t help matters any.

I’m considering wrapping myself in tin foil and taping various heating pads to my body just to prevent heat from escaping.

I take back everything I ever said about liking cold weather and winter.

Screw you, winter. It’s not even December yet, and you’re already playing dirty? Oh, it is ON. (The heat that is…)

Excuse me while I go huddle next to the radiator to drink in the blessed warmth.

Just Once

Just once, I would like for life to gift wrap the next six months up in a big shiny bow and present it to me with a note attached saying, “Nothing going on for the next 6 months. Enjoy!”

Just once, I would like to have a break from divorce, death, job loss, cars that won’t start, pets that get sick, 17 inch snowfalls, frigid temperatures, freezing pipes, credit card fraud, illness, obligations, demands.

Just once, I’d like to get by scott-free and have nothing going on. All that is required of me is getting out of bed, going to work, coming home, feeding myself, bathing myself and going back to sleep. Just that. That’s all.

Just once.

Before I haul off and punch life right in the kisser…