Maybe I am just a jerk.

No, I don’t want to be a jerk. I don’t wake up in the morning and rub my hands together and say, “bwah hah hah, how can I destroy other people this fine day!”  Instead, I usually wake up and say, “mmmmm. I want a bean and cheese burrito covered in extra cheese, taco sauce, and sour cream and a diet coke” and ladies and gents, that is about as deep as I go most days. So, please know that when I forget to text message you back or even forget to turn on facebook messenger and shoot you back a quickie I am not ignoring you. I’m not attempting to *do* anything. In fact, I am probably thinking about where my next burrito is coming from and sadly, THAT IS NOT A EUPHAMISM!

The funniest part of this? There is going to be no less than 5-7 people in my life who are going to read this post and think I am writing this directly to them and only them. Sadly, I am not. This is to all y’all. Except E. E and I have that type of friendship that allows us to completely ignore each other for days, weeks, months, and then get back into talking (and by talking I mean texting because both of us are pathological regarding our mutual hatred of talking on the phone) on an hourly basis for a while and then drifting back into getting distracted by shiny objects.

I have another friend (that’s right people, I have more than one friend–I’m fancy!) who once told me that her theory on brains is that there is a tiny dude living in everyones mind who works as a librarian. Some librarians know where every book is located by memory, some have to check a database, and some have everything in a messy card catalog. I embraced this theory but I’m 94% certain that the little librarian dude in my brain is stoned and has been stoned since I was a child. (Please note–I have not been stoned, the teeny little librarian dude in my brain is stoned) (this has taken an odd turn….anywhoodle). My brain librarian is SUPER ORGANIZED in some sections but in others he has put up party lights, a lava lamp, and with the strategic use of bean bag chairs turned those very important sections into a stoner paradise. Whenver I try to access those areas in my noggin librarian dude starts distracting me by lighting up other areas of my brain and causing me to get distracted and then instead of remembering to check in on facebook or look at my phone I end up turning my refrigerator into a chalkboard with the use of fancy paint or watching every single episode of some long-cancelled tv show or sharpening all of the knives in my house or coloring….what was I talking about? Oh yeah–I have distraction issues…..:)

I guess what I am trying to say is that I am sorry I forget to keep into contact with y’all. I don’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings. I just get distracted by life (the concept, not the dog; although sometimes she is kinda distracting….dammit–dude in my brain! stop distracting me!). But maybe that makes me a jerk?  I don’t know. I try not to be a jerk.  If I have been a jerk to you I am sorry.




I was going to write a vilifying post about this evil plumber guy who is the living embodiment of
everything I could possibly loathe all wrapped up in one human being but then a puppy pooped its own weight in my office and very little in the world as thought derailing as a service dog giving you a panic-eyed expression while a co-workers puppy-in-training is dropping a load in the corner of your office.

I can actually say that right now I love my life. 🙂

Sure, I just cleaned up a load o’ poo and that jerk of a plumber is still over there lurking in his ‘allthatiswrongintheworld’ type way…but in reality all is going okay. You are probably wondering why I loathe this man? Well, because he is a asshat. Like, a real one. An oldschool woman-hating jerk. Asked for a mop and when I showed him where one was he picked it up and attempted to wring it out by hand (eww). I showed him the wringer located on the mop and he said, “I am not a woman; I don’t know how to use these things”  my reply? “Well, I’m not a man and I know how to use every tool you have with you. So what’s your point?”

He seemed to think that was hilarious but since that crack plumbing team of “asshat” and “onthephone” brought an arsenal consisting of one pair of channel locks and a screwdriver I can honestly state that I have the ability and knowledge to use every tool they brought with them. Every single time I do a minor (MINOR) amount of plumbing (open u-bend to find lost whatever, new shower head, new flushing mechanism, etc.) I end up thinking how much I HATE plumbing. It only follows the timeless “righty tighty – lefty loosey” rule SOMETIMES. I mean, seriously? And did you know that the toilet you are sitting on right now is only one squadgy oval of wax away from leaking poop-water on your floor? At least with electricity you know water = bad and you also can state that enough of it will kill you. Zap = dead. Toxic vapors? Yep–they follow rules too. It’s just those sneaky damn plumbers with their sneaky damn plumbing making up rules as they go.
But they are smart buggers–I mean, no-one wants to crap in their own yard in front of the neighbors (could someone please inform the puppy about this?) so when that there fancy regulation wax dries out and poop starts seeping you are probably going to end up needing a plumber.
If I could do it all over again?I would TOTALLY become a plumber. :o)

and then there were three…

There is a small subset of the population which truly are my kryptonite.  They all appear to have the following similarities:

  1. They are big dudes. Seriously, we are talking that guy that when they walk in the room people say, “whoa”. Usually over 6′ 3″. 
  2. They are very smart.
  3. They are very dour.
  4. They are intrigued by me, sort of attracted to me, but don’t really like me very much.

The first version of my kryptonite I married, the second moved to another country while I was out-of-town, and the third one just disappeared before I could ever kiss him in person. I *should* be thankful that I didn’t get a chance to do something stupid like fall in love with him.  But boy howdy is it going to be awkward when we run into each other (notice I didn’t say “if”? yeah, the Gods love awkward way too much for it to be “if we ever run into each other”).

The problem with H-Kryptonite is that I *want* to make them happy. Everything inside me screams to do everything I can to make them happy–but when they aren’t (see #3) it hurts me because I feel like I failed. Lame, right?

So, new rule? If a suitor comes my way and they display any version of #4 – it is a HELL NO because I deserve better.  If they have either #1 or #2 (yay!) but if they combine either of those with a #3 I’m thinking itsa no.

I need a flow chart.

~big yawn~