Friday, July 31, 2009

Last day of camp!

Please note the Girl Child's side ponytail.

My influence, as I've mentioned, is widespread.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Though I'm sure you'd remind me, if you had to.

Today? Was a good day. It started out good and the goodness remained.

Today also made me think. A lot. About a lot of different things. Probably, to be honest, a lot of them were things I should try to avoid thinking about.

But because of all my thinking, I have a question.

Do you ever think about what might have been?

I can trace every bit of the last several years of my life back to specific things that happened. Specific moments, actually. Certain people in my life have led me to exactly where I am today. I can name five people in my life right now that have significantly impacted who I am. They probably don't even know it (and maybe I should tell at least some of them).

I guess it's all part of the master plan. I don't even know if I can control any of it...if any of us can really control any of it. None of us can change it either.

So. Why do I think about what might have been?

Isn't it just a huge waste of time?

Just human nature?


Wednesday, July 29, 2009

I heart the gym.

Earlier than the butt crack of dawn used to be the perfect time to go to the gym. In a lot of ways, it still is. It's much quieter then and there are a lot less people. There are a lot of sweaty guys lifting weights and grunting loudly, but they are pretty ignorable (and believe me, they are far more interested in themselves than anything I'm doing). Also, and probably my favorite, parking is no issue at 4:45am. And the girl working the desk is not a size negative zero. Which is always a bonus.

There is person who comes in at the same time as me now and this person doesn't like me.

I can't quite figure out why. I always say "Good morning" to this individual and smile. Maybe it's NOT a good morning in their world because they always scowl at me when I say it. And they never say it back. EVER.

So I pretty much ignore this person, which is my M.O. for all things unpleasant in my life.

But today? The person sneezed

And I have this thing. I can't let someone sneeze and not say anything. I don't think their soul is going to escape or anything, but for some reason I am compelled to say SOMETHING.

So I said, "God bless you!"

And they scowled (big shock) and said, "I don't believe in God!"

And instead of just not saying anything, which is what I should probably do in most situations, I said, "Well then. Satan bless you!"

I'm probably going to get kicked out of the gym y'all. It won't be good.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Did you ever?

Did you ever have a phone call that was so disturbing that you LITERALLY held the phone away from your head and looked at it because you could not believe what the person on the other line was saying?

Did you ever write an email during a time in which you were so upset that you thought your hair was going to catch on fire due to the explosion of your own head?

Did you ever have a friend proofread your email before you hit send?

Did your friend ever say to you, "It looks good except you need to delete the part about the horse he rode in on"?

Did you ever want to cry from frustration in dealing with someone who obviously doesn't want to hear what you are saying?

Did you ever have a little boy who, on a rain-slicked road to his overtired mom says, "Mom! That license plate totally said ass!"?

Welcome to my life.

Even when it's bad? It's good.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Honesty! Now with bullets!

-I really was going to come to your activity, pushy and annoying person. The reason I didn't come to your activity was not because you were pushy and annoying. It was because Aunt Flo was in town and I didn't want the activity to become the Red River Valley.

-I'm so geeked about the mere potential of meeting Buzz Aldrin that I can barely stand myself. GEEKED.

-I told Jason that if I get to meet Buzz (and I totally plan on doing everything I can to meet him) that I'm going to ask to have our picture made and then totally kiss him when the picture is snapped.

-Jason made a really ugly face at me so I amended it to a kiss on the cheek.

-I have a massive friend crush on someone I work with. It's really ridiculous. I just want this person to be my friend SO. BAD.

-I am so tired of sharing the following things with my husband:
1) The washer and dryer
2) The television remote
3) The bed, while sleeping

-I cannot stop with the side ponytails.

-I'm pretty much in love with Joel McHale. I'm not even ashamed.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

You my brown-eyed girl.

If you know anything about me at all you know that I love my kids. More than that, I'm grateful for my kids. I honestly don't know who or where I would be today if not for that little boy and that little girl.

That being said, I make no secret that I do not understand the girl one. At all.

I mean, I love her. I love her. I cannot imagine a world without her in it because she's so freaking awesome.

But I don't get her.

I get the boy one. He? Makes sense to me. Probably? Because we're both huge freaks. But I understand freak. I love how much of a dork he is and I especially love how he knows how much of a dork he is and that he totally doesn't care. I understand his sense of humor. I understand how hilarious he is and the way his mind works. I understand who he is as a person.

The girl? Is still a mystery.

I mean, certain things about her I totally get. Right now, open on her bed, is Mary Anne Saves the Day. I read that book when I was about her age. She reads everything she can get her hands on. I so get that. She loves animals (even the cats that cause her to break out in a horrible rash). She's nice to short people. She's sensitive.

I get all that.

But I don't get her.

I want to get her. I want for the two of us to be bff someday. When she's a grown-up and we can have that kind of relationship. I want her to feel like she can ask her mom anything. Confide in me. Ask for my assistance with her own babies.

I don't know that she does.

I don't know that she doesn't, necessarily. But I don't know that she does.

She's getting to be that age. That age that scares me. That age that gives me heartburn. She's emotional...sobbing at the drop of a hat. Moody. Questioning.

All of that is normal and fine and I expect every bit of it. She's really a good kid, despite the moodiness. I know how lucky I am.

But I want to understand her. I want to do better with her.

This morning we were sitting in church. Jason was on one side of me and my little girl was on the other. We all closed our eyes to pray and my immediate thought was:

God, please open my heart so I can hear what you want me to hear. And God, please let me do well with Girl Child. I know how much she needs me now. I don't want to screw her up.

We opened our eyes and my little girl lay her head on my arm. Spontaneously.

The choir sang and I leaned over to her and whispered, "I love you so much."

She needed to hear it. I needed to say it.

I want to get this right.

She deserves it.

Saturday, July 25, 2009


I totally love this dog.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Stuff I love: July 24th, 2009 edition.

1)This blog Awful Library Books. I snorted out loud whilst reading. Twice.

2) I'm slightly obsessed with this Pumpkin Squash Ravioli. I am loving the fact that I'm obsessed with something that has both the words "pumpkin" and "squash" in it.

3) The completely ginormous bruise that I have on my stomach (from an injury sustained at the gym. Which I obtained by climbing up on a weight rack to illegally change the channel on the television from some German Techno crap to CNN and then FALLING OFF SAID RACK) is almost gone! Soon, I won't look like an old prostitute anymore! Awesome!

4) I am totally rocking a side pony-tail today. Seriously.

5) I am currently in love with my new book. I would so marry it if I could. I know this opinion may change tomorrow, but right now? I love it. I like it SO much better than this one. And I sleep with that one under my pillow, y'all.

No, just lying. But still.

6) I have been OP (It's a Weight Watchers term) for this whole week. I mean, not just Points. With my water, my exercise, my vitamins...everything. I'm going to make the scale my bitch come Monday morning.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

And though I'm nobody's poet, I thought it wasn't half-bad

Boy Child, singing: If you like penis coladas! Gettin' caught in the rain!

Me, interrupting: Um, Boy Child? Did you say "penis" coladas?

Boy Child: Yes! You know. That song! That song about...well, I don't know what it's about, but it goes, "If you like penis coladas! Getting caught-"

Me, interupting again: Sweetheart. It's not penis. It's PINA.

Boy Child: Pina?


Boy Child: Oh.

Several moments pass.

Boy Child: Mom? What's a pina colada?

Me: It's a drink.

Boy Child: A drink? Like...alcohol?

Me: Yes.

Several more moments pass.

Boy Child, scoffing: Who would sing about alcohol anyway?

Me: Probably different people than the ones who would sing about penises.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

When did I become this person?

Who says things like, "Ginger. For the love of God. Stop snacking on your own butt!"?

Who does things like get up at 4:30am ON PURPOSE to go to the gym?

Who gets so unnaturally annoyed with bad and/or slow drivers that she literally rolls down the car windows and CHEERS for people when they turn?

Who tells her own mother (who is pretty much appalled by her, by the way), "Let me hang up so I can cuss without you getting mad at me"?

Who only buys mint chocolate chip ice cream because she HATES mint chocolate chip ice cream, thus ensuring that she won't EAT mint chocolate chip ice cream?

Who told her boss, yesterday, "We'll just act good for a little while until the new person gets used to us. Then? We'll scream and call each other bitches and act awful some more. And the new person can just DEAL WITH IT"?

Who said to a co-worker today, "Ask me if I care. No, seriously. Go on. ASK ME"?

Who wasn't surprised when they didn't ask me?

Who is so tired she wants to cry most of the time?

Who is seriously, SERIOUSLY so tired of some of the people in her life who are SO OBSESSED WITH ONE THING AND ONE THING ONLY AND CAN THINK OF AND TALK ABOUT ONE THING ONLY that she really wants to stab them in the throat?

Who might just cry after finishing this because she's not all that thrilled with the person she's become?

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

You guys are just SO Oprah! Or something!

Okay, so remember this?

Well. She wrote me back.

She read everything you guys said. And she wanted to answer a few questions (and, just so you guys won't think I'm a big cockslap for posting her business? She asked me to do this).

1) She's thirty-five and he's forty. They've been together since she was twenty and he was twenty-five.
2) They live together and have since 1999.
3) They have two kids together.
4) They have talked, repeatedly, about getting married.

His response apparently has always been, "I'm not ready yet" or "Not now" or "Maybe next year".

And apparently? She was pretty pissed.

Oh and also this:

5) She didn't call HIM a douchebag. She just used the word douchebag in an effort to impress me.

(She said that. Seriously. As if it would take THAT MUCH to impress me. Gah!)


She read all of your comments and decided she would confront him.


They broke up.

BUT! She said (in part) this:

It sucks, but I really want to thank you for posting my problem on your blog. You have a really great group of readers and they were right. We did need to talk about it instead of just avoiding it year after year. He was never going to marry me. I'm sad, but I now know that it is time to move on...I just couldn't compromise on this one.

So tell your readers "thanks". Tell them "douchebag" for good measure. :)

And just like that? I kind of remembered why I blog every day.

Monday, July 20, 2009

It's fun to dream!

Stephanie, while watching her all-time favorite movie The Wedding Singer (for about the 10,000th time...but who's counting?): I love Drew Barrymore. When my book gets made into a movie? I want her to play me.

Jason, thoughtfully: Who can play me? Tom Selleck?


Jason, hurt: Well. He has a really nice mustache!

So do you, Jason. So do you.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Television makes me mad sometimes.

It is no secret that I love television. It is also no secret that I love really, really bad television. MTV's 16 and Pregnant is no exception. I've seen every episode (numerous times), the special extended episodes and I'm eagerly awaiting the "Life after Labor" reunion show. Which I will TiVo and probably watch more than once.

I got so angry at this show the other day, though. I cried and cried and cried. And I cry when I get really angry, so I know I was REALLY ANGRY.

It was the adoption episode. Out of all the girls/couples on this show, only one couple decided to give their baby up for adoption. Tyler and Catelynn.

Their families? Were all kinds of f'ed up. Catelynn? Had lived in thirteen different houses in sixteen years. Her mom apparently drives drunk and gets arrested for it on a semi-regular basis. At some point Tyler's dad, apparently after various prison stints, had married Catelynn's mom. So technically they were step-siblings. Far worse than that were his dad and her mom's attitude about giving the baby up for adoption. They? Were not supportive. In any way.

At one point, in fact, the father said to Tyler (who I believe is also sixteen years old), "I'll always think about that baby and how you didn't man up".

That? Was about the point in time that I got so angry I started screaming at the television and Jason told me to have a rest period.

That douche, who was out of his own child's life for the vast majority of it because he was in prision, is telling this CHILD who has far, far more sense than his own idiot father, he needs to man up? The same way he "manned up" by getting his stupid ass thrown in prision? OH. MY. GOOD. LORD.

Was it stupid for these two kids to get pregnant? Of course it was. Absolutely, 100% stupid. No doubt. But instead of acting on emotion, they took an honest and mature look at their lives and said, "You know what? Our baby deserves a better life."

How amazingly brave and selfless those two were. I am in awe that two teenagers, who seemed to have genuine love and affection for one other, could say, "She deserves better and we can't give it to her."

Tyler wrote his daughter a letter, that reads, in part:

This is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. The thought of what kind of dad I wanted to be and what you deserve just didn't mix. It's very hard to admit that you don't deserve me as your dad, but that comes with maturity and you have to be mature to be a parent. You were innocent. You didn't ask to be brought into this world and you didn't choose your parents. Your mom and me made an irresponsible mistake not using protection. I will not punish you for that.

Please. Someone tell me. How is this child not "manning up"? Because it seems to me that a real man isn't a selfish dbag and sometimes gives up something he really wants BECAUSE IT'S THE RIGHT THING TO DO.

Television makes me mad sometimes.

Television makes me cry sometimes.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Gratuitous child embarrassment post!

So yesterday? I took the children to the store to get a few things for...



(I know. Wah, wah, wah. I'll shut up now.)

Anyway, one of the things that Girl Child has determined she needs is a bra. Her body has not quite caught up with that determination, but she is pretty sure that all the sixth grade girls will have bras and she'll probably need one too.

And honestly? She's probably right. Last year she brought home a newsletter from her class and I looked at the pictures and said, "Are these the classroom aide's?" and Girl Child said, "Mom! That's Shananaynay! She's in my CLASS! She's TEN!" and Shananaynay? Totally had huge boobs. Huge!

My own boobs? Sort of just appeared one day. One day I had no boobs. The next day I was trying to keep my arms crossed in gym class so I didn't give myself black eyes. It was REALLY BAD.

I don't want Girl Child to have to deal with this. I really don't. It is easier to buy her a small piece of white elastic that looks more like a large Ace bandage than an actual bra.

But the store? Yeah. They have different ideas of what a little girls bra is than I do.

Because the Girl Child? Picked up something that was lacy and had fringe on it.
Then? She picked up a really cute bra that had frogs on it. AND IT WAS PADDED.

"I really like this one," she told me.

"But's padded."

"What does that mean?"

I had her feel of it. Meanwhile, the Boy Child is DYING and trying to pretend he doesn't know us. So, I held it up and said loudly, "LOOK BOY CHILD! IT'S PADDED! DO YOU WANT TO FEEL IT?" Because that's just good parenting.

Anyway. I explained to her that, when you are eleven years old at least, we don't fake what God gave us. And she picked up a very cute, very flat, very stretchy little white piece of elastic with a pink bow on it.

I came home and told Jason about the padded bras and he nearly died. Seriously. He was horrified.

"SHE'S ELEVEN!" he shrieked.

"I know."


"I know Jason."

"That reminds me of the time that we went to get her school clothes before kindergarten and all the underwear was STRIPPER UNDERWEAR!"

"Jason. It had sparkles on it. And how do you know what strippers wear?"


So. I'm thinking Jason's pretty much going to lock the Girl Child in her room in a few years.

Not really. But I'm kind of thinking it might not be a bad idea either.

This parenting stuff is HARD y'all.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Not yet. Not yet.

In about a month my children will start middle school. It seems I am much more concerned about this than either of them are, but I'm not totally sure.

I'm afraid they just don't realize. Not yet.

It's sort of sweet that they don't. They are still so innocent. They have no idea.

Middle school was an oh-nevermind for me. I was nervous, I guess, but it was basically the same group of kids that I went to elementary school with. We just changed classes when a bell rang. The entire group of kids changed classes at the same time, though.

Granted, my middle school was a small, hometown kind of place. I went to school with a lot of the same kids for thirteen years in a row. That's a really freaking long time. A lot of them still live in the same town and have their families there. Their parents went to the schools there. Met in high school. Bought split-levels there in the 1970's, with sprawling lawns and picket fences. They still live there. The grandchildren come and visit them.

High school? That was different.

I remember, vividly, going to orientation. We all gathered in the auditorium and they announced the class officers. As all these people I didn't know stood up, I got this horrible, sinking feeling in my stomach.

I don't belong here.

It felt awful. I didn't have the right kind of clothes. I didn't look like the girls around me, with their make-up just so and their fingernails painted.

There were people who were really mean and ugly to me. REALLY, REALLY mean. I guess that happens to everyone, to some degree. My life wasn't made Hell by bullies or anything, but I certainly remember some of the stinging gabs made by Other People who were Better Than Me.

And certainly, I was loud and annoying and probably a bit of a know-it-all. I was really into the environment and Green Peace when I was about fifteen and I was pretty much belligerent and ridiculous. I'm sure I deserved many or all of the eye-rolls I received.

I was just figuring out who I was, I suppose.

Eventually it was okay, of course. I made friends. I did okay. I had boyfriends and a job and, eventually, a best friend. And, probably most importantly, I realized that there was more to life than this. And no matter how high school went, even if it was dreadful, that no one would remember me or care later on. Life would keep moving. I would live in other places and know other people. Even if no one liked me at all. Someday I would meet people who would like me. Love me, even. And they would be the people that matter.

My children are going to start attending a monstrosity of a school. A school which, I believe, five elementary schools feed into. There are a LOT of kids they don't know. A lot of kids that, for better or worse, they will have to get to know.

And they? Are totally unconcerned.

Maybe, just maybe, they already understand.

There are still people I went to school with that I talk to. That I love to hear from. That have been great supporters of me and are interested in me and what I'm doing with my life. I am so, so grateful for them.

I hope my kids know that there will be some people like this. Some people that you care about twenty years from now. Not all people you know will be in your life forever. But some will remain. The ones that matter? They will remain.

But for now? I guess I'm just grateful that they don't know. They are okay with who they are.

I hope no one ever takes that away from them.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Anniversary date!

Yes, our anniversary was on the 12th. But today, we celebrated. Because we got paid yesterday. But whatever.

We went to The Chop House. Just me. Just him. Just us. To celebrate six wonderful years as a married couple.

I had crab cakes. They were delightful. Despite the fact that my husband has been sick all week, we still had a nice conversation. We laughed. We talked about the past. We talked about our future. The lights were low, the waitress was attentive, and the elderly crowd of ladies talking VERY VERY loudly about poor Erwin and his prostate didn't even faze us.

Not us. We're in love! And stuff!

He stared deeply into my eyes, leaned forward and said...

"You have a piece of rice stuck to your boob."

It was the best lunch ever.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

A question!

One of my really nice readers sent me an email about her current relationship. I won't share her email here (even though it was a really nice email and she even used the word douchebag...nice touch!), but her main question was:

How long is would you stay in a relationship if the guy didn't propose?

And my answer is?

I have no flipping idea.

Because, y'all? I have no flipping idea.

Jason and I dated dated for three years before he proposed. And frankly, I thought it was time for him know, poop or get off the pot. (That was classy, yes?) Other people I know have dated much longer. This gal and her guy? Have been together for fifteen years. I haven't even KNOWN Jason fifteen years.

Thus, I have no idea what to tell her. I was thinking some crap about how every relationship is different and blah, blah, blah, whatever, but somehow? I don't think she wants to hear that.

So, kind readers, what do you think?

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


Jason, last night: Can you believe it? I got the Final Jeopardy answer right and NONE of the contestants did! Isn't that awesome?

Me: Jason. For the love of God. It's the CHILDREN'S tournament. They're TEN.

Monday, July 13, 2009


I finally succumbed.

So here I am on Twitter.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

The one.

Not long ago I was emailing someone dear to me about "the one".

The right one. The only one.

We were talking about what if's? What if this person is the right one and he's slipping away? What if I've already found the right person? What if neither one of them is the right one? And isn't it logical that the person who is most like you, and likes the same things as you, would be the right one?

The right one for me was twenty-three when I met him. Terrified of the small people attached to my hips (yes, one on each). Terrified of relationships. Terrified of love. Terrified, dare I say it? Of me.

The right one for me is thirty-three now. Not terrified by the small people who live in our house. Befuddled by them, often. But no longer terrified.

In love.
Not afraid of the future.
Not afraid of me.

Not like me in a lot of ways. The right one for me is a Republican who hates Mexican food and rarely reads. Who watches television news and the weather when I can't stand either.

The right one for me is a lot stronger in his faith than I am in mine. Who makes decisions swiftly and rarely regrets anything. Who, really, honestly didn't realize that not everyone makes up songs and inserts their own names in them to make them more interesting.

Who is not perfect. He frustrates and destracts me to no end sometimes. Who never laughs hard enough at my hilarity. Who is painfully human sometimes.

Who thinks, for God knows what reason? That I'm exactly right for him.

Six years ago, today, I married the right one for me.

I had no idea, none at all, that I would love him more today than I did on that day.

But I do.

Because he's the right one.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Where's that stupid magic 8 ball?

I wish I could see the future.

I hate having decisions to make and not being sure what the right one is.

I hate this headache that I've had for two weeks and can't seem to get rid of.

And I really, really hate being this scared.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Quietly writing.

I wrote about three thousand words on my next book tonight.

I'll have to edit that back...probably a lot. But I'm glad that I got it out.

I keep having this great idea for another book. A fiction book, not real crap about my own life.

It's really the best idea ever. I keep thinking of it and thinking how good it could be.

Then I remember. It's basically the book I tried writing between 2006 and early 2008.

And it REALLY, REALLY SUCKED. I hate it and wish it was dead and I'm pretty sure I can't do anything to make it better.

So. There's that.

I'm in a bit of a funk lately. Is it obvious?

Thursday, July 09, 2009

Pour myself a cup of ambition.

I really love my job these days.

I'm in the best group ever. Six women. And seriously? I'm RUINED for working anywhere else.

Daily topics of conversation include:
My co-worker's bra (it has skulls on it)
Our underwear
Our weight
Nutty Bars
Sex again
The really cute deer outside our window
Bras AND underwear
A bag of dicks
Some of the stupid people we work with
More sex
Some use of the word "anal"

We're a fun crowd. Really.

And we LOVE each other. It's RIDICULOUS how much we love each other. If one of is off for a few days? We all hug when they get back. Some days? We just hug. JUST BECAUSE. Every day we compliment one another. "I love your hair!" "I love those pants!" "You look so good today!" Okay, every now and then when one of our co-workers says, "My stomach is so huge" we all say, "GAH! Co-worker! You skinny bitch!" because she totally weighs like 90 pounds and her entire body is the size of my right thigh. But we say it with LOVE.

I know it sounds like it would be a big old estrogen-fest, but I promise it's totally not. We all get along. We all genuinely like one another. None of them have stabbed me when I insert my own name into song lyrics and sing them loudly in the office (lately? It's been Michael Jackson tunes. Dirty Steph-ANNA! NAH! and Steffus Jean is NOT MY LOVAH!). I want to stab MYSELF sometimes, I'm so annoying. And they love me! Or they are good pretenders. But I think they actually love me AND my stupid and lame songs.

And the best part? We all work really well together. We each have our own tasks and we all work together to get everything done. When our boss is in crisis mode, we all step up and say, "What do you need?" If someone is struggling we say, "What can we do to help you get this done?" or "Let me do this for you".

It's amazing. I'm really, really blessed.

But we need more help.

So my boss interviewed someone today. And she asked us to write out some interview questions for the person.

She wasn't crazy about mine.

I believe she said, "STEPHANIE! I cannot ask someone 'Are you offended when people talk about a bag of dicks?' or 'Do you mind working with individiuals who are CRIMINALLY INSANE, NO REALLY I'M NOT KIDDING'."


Because, you know, the girl had a great resume. I have no doubt that she'll be able to do the actual WORK.

But can she get along with us? Can she hang with a group of six rowdy women?

That's what is scary. And I'm sure it's scary for her too. Because it's always hard to walk into a group that's already established. Even if they don't talk about any part of anyone's anatomy ALL DAY LONG.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

Just sad.

Weight of the world? Meet my shoulders.

Today? Pretty much a huge face-palm. All. Day. Long.

In fact? The last several weeks have been this way.

It's weird. I sometimes feel like everyone else is in on some kind of secret that I'm not in on. Like some weird, happiness thing that eludes me.

I wish I could figure this out.

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Stuff I love: July 7th, 2009 edition.

1) An episode of Parental Control which I watched last night that featured a young lady singing a song about her "Lady, lady, lady business!".

She also pointed. It rocked.

2)Pretty much everything about this recap of Flowers in the Attic. I laughed so hard I'm pretty sure I ruptured something I might need in the future and I don't even care.

3)When your biggest problem is YOU. Timely!

4) This is not sexy or cool or anything, but I'm doing meal-planning with my Kroger sale paper and it's going really well! When I went to the market on Saturday they rang me up and my total was $287 (I hadn't been to the grocery store in some time and we needed EVERYTHING). They scanned my card and my coupons and I got out of there for $190.01.


5) I'm excited about this. Also? Terrified. But mostly, excited.

6) I have similar feelings about this. Because of my complete lack of social graces.

7)My dear friend Todd and his Facebook status updates such as this:

Todd has now had bloody diarrhea with tissue chunks sqirted down his shirt and into his underwear. what a great day at the ER :(

He's a vet y'all. So it's nothing freaky or anything.

Okay, it's totally freaky.

Good God, I just love him though.

Also? Reason #24547878151841421157879988 I would never survive Vet school.

8) My boss just told someone to go eat a bag of dicks.

My influence, it seems, is widespread.

Monday, July 06, 2009

No, no. no. no. NO.

Girl Child: And that's what Laffy-Taffy is. And did you know that your "Moneymaker" is your butt?


Sunday, July 05, 2009


It's like I have two different lives.

At church, no one knows about me. They don't know I write books. They don't know what I do for a living. A lot of them call me things like, "Michelle" or "Jennifer" (I suppose they have a similar number of letters as Stephanie). Everyone knows Jason's name. I am Jason's wife. They know that. That might be all they know. Surprisingly, I'm okay with that. It's easier to just blend in there. It's easier to let him be the important one.

At work we don't talk much about my book or any other writing I do. It's fine with me...I don't really like to talk about it. I get uncomfortable when people bring it up. The ladies in my group all know and are all supportive. Outside our little room? I don't want to talk about it. I'm surprised when people know.

When I write I am my most true self, I suppose. It's funny...someone said to me that they thought my book was dirty because of all the curse words in it. My good friend Missy said, "It sounds like you, but you curse way more in real life!" I can't win for losing, I suppose. And that? Just makes me laugh anyway.

Being a mom is my true self too. I don't know how good I am at it, but it's usually not hard for me. Usually it's more fun than it is hard, and that's how I gauge things.

I know I'm not respected as a mom. I get that. It's been so long since I've had a baby. I don't know all the new stuff. I don't understand things like breast-feeding and epidurals and home births and stuff. I have things to offer, but none of them matter right now. And it's okay, but it does make me cry sometimes (like yesterday morning. In front of the Kroger. So I've become *that* lady) because eventually? I could probably be worth something. But right now I'm not.

All these things get all mixed up. I get all mixed up.

I guess all of these things are me. I don't know. I've been divided for so long, I don't know how to put myself back together. Or something.

Saturday, July 04, 2009

I've been waiting forever to get to say this.

Someone I hadn't seen in a while: So! How's your family?

Me: Belligerent and numerous.

Friday, July 03, 2009


For most of my life, I've been pretty worthless.

I had kids about eleven years ago, and that gave me something to do, as well as, you know, hope to go on or whatever. Before I had kids? I was a little bit lazy. Lazy isn't in my vocabulary anymore. I'm always doing something, working something, running somewhere. I'm busy and I like it. I really, really like it.

I fret that I'm at such a different place in my life than so many of my friends right now. I hate it...I feel like such a freak. I can't become who they are and eventually they'll be where I am. But eventually is a long way away and seems like a wide, wide gulf sometimes.

But lately? People are asking my advice.

I'm giving advice. And the advice TOTALLY DOESN'T SUCK.

I know! I'm surprised as well!

It's good though. It's really good. I really like having something to offer other than copious use of the word douchebag.

It makes me think that maybe I'll do something else worthwhile. I don't know what, but something.

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Why is this a show?

It's no secret that I highly enjoy partaking in bad television. If you are an aging rocker living in a mansion with a number of skank whores or a cockslap who makes people do random and bizarre things in an effort to become their bff? I'm so there.

Last night I was almost asleep when I heard a commercial for a new FOX show called More To Love. The FOX website says:


New Dating Series Executive-Produced by Reality Czar Mike Fleiss

FOX is setting out to prove that love comes in all shapes and sizes with the new inspirational dating competition series MORE TO LOVE. Executive-produced by Mike Fleiss ("The Bachelor," "The Bachelorette"), the unscripted series follows a single average guy with a big waist and an even bigger heart as he romances several confident and secure plus-size women. Each week, the husky hunk will wine and dine a group of curvy women to determine if they have more love to give or if they are truly more than he can handle. When the size of competition narrows, he will have to decide if one full-figured lady will become his true love.

"This is a dating show that sends the right message about embracing and loving yourself no matter your shape or size," said executive producer Mike Fleiss. "When you are comfortable with your own body, you can really allow yourself to be open to the possibility of finding the right person to love."

Iconic full-figured supermodel Emme will host MORE TO LOVE. A pioneer for plus-size women in the modeling industry, Emme became the first full-figured model to land a contract as a cosmetics company spokesperson when she signed with Revlon. Her career as a model, television personality, author, inspirational speaker and clothing designer promotes and exemplifies positive body image, self-esteem and self-acceptance.

Okay. Sounds lovely, I suppose.

I then found photos of the cast. And dude? Seriously? These women are gorgeous. Gorgeous. And most of them, I'm thinking, are probably skinnier than plus-sized me.

So the concept, I guess, is fine.

But why is this even a thing?
Why do these women have to have a separate show?

I don't get this. Because they are a size 12 instead of a size 0 they have to have an entirely different show? Plus-sized women only like "husky hunks"? Fat people can only love other fat people? WTF?

I'm reminded of a time, several years ago, that Jason and I were in a restaurant. Two really skinny girls were sitting behind us and one of them was trying to get Jason's attention. At one point I got up to use the restroom and heard one of them whisper to the other, "Sister".

Because, God knows, he couldn't be my BOYFRIEND. I was FAT. And he wasn't. He was a good-looking, average-sized guy and there was just NO POSSIBLE WAY that he would want to be with ME. God knows he couldn't be interested in me because my ass has not ever and likely will never fit into a pair of size zero jeans. Or even a size six, if I'm being honest.

So why? What's the point of this show? Why not just have these beautiful ladies on the regular bachelor? Why does this have to be such a big deal? Why are two overweight people falling in love any more "inspirational" than two skinny people falling in love?

I don't understand. And seriously, I TiVo 16 and Pregnant y'all. I get the point of pointless things.

I just don't get this.

Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Stuff I love: July 1st, 2009 edition.

1)The fact that my brother has a girlfriend named Stephanie.

Okay, not only is she named Stephanie? She has the SAME LAST NAME I USED TO HAVE. You know, when I was married to the prickhole. (She's never been married to the prickhole though, so good on her!) And? The fact that my brother is dating someone who has the exact same name I used to have? Led to some big hilarity yesterday when my former boss became convinced that someone was trying to steal my identity.

I told my brother, "No matter what you do, someone's always trying to call the law!"

It was a bonding moment. What can I say?

2) These three fartknockers:

I love this picture. It's quite old, as evidenced by the smallness of the two children and the lack of teeth in the Boy One. But I love it.

3) Pretty much everything about this:

4) The following conversation. which I had with Jason last night.

Me: I hate this guy.

Jay: Stephanie. It's not okay to hate people.

Me: Yes, I think it might be okay to hate him. Jesus would give me a pass for hating that douchenozzle.

Jay: Stephanie. Jesus doesn't want you to hate anyone.

Me: Jason. For the love of Christ. He was PLANNING HIS WEDDING to that skank-whore while his wife was DYING OF CANCER.

Jay: But-

Me: OF CANCER. Jason!

Jay: Stephanie. I'm not saying he's not a sack of puke.

5) Everything about this interview.

Psst...tomorrow will be the second part which will include a couple of exerpts from my new book. Which may or may not suck...I can't confirm either way right now.

6) The fact that my husband randomly mows the yards of the single mothers in our neighborhood. Not only because he was raised by a single mother and then married a single mother and he knows how hard they have it, but because he's a REALLY, REALLY good person. Much better than my stupid butt deserves.

7) Our anniversary is only eleven days away! We've been married almost six years y'all, and I don't hate him! Not yet!

8) I got Jason to say, "Sack of Puke". Next? I'm working on "bag of dicks". Which, for some reason, he never wants to say. Also? He makes an ugly face at me when I say it.

9)You Suck At Craigslist. Maybe not safe for work.

10) A rejection letter that I have, that I read over and over again which reads, in part,

"No one cares about you or your life".

OH. SNAP. I say. Says I.