Blogging, Friends, Truth, work

Fired

For blogging…. regardless of the lame canned excuse I was given, what it boils down to is that the Cunt I’ve had to work under for the past two years played her trump card. She’s known about my blog since I started- and I’ve had to sit on my hands and bite my tongue.

Blah, blah, blah… type, type, type… guess who’s hands are free and whose mouth is open?

Not a good thing when you’re running a business in a glass house.

If they were going to fire everyone that hated her, they’d have to restaff the entire restaurant.

“She’s like the mother of this place” was the line I got.

No. She’s the red-headed step-child we all had crammed down our throats while making a 5th of what she makes an hour. Ever heard of someone making manager wages, writing the schedule, working the best shifts and smoking a half a pack of cigarettes on every 4 hour shift?

I know one.

I called in sick once in 2 years and she had to cover for me on her day off. She had the balls to tell the customers I was sick with a hangover. They told me, saying “She’s such a bitch, why on earth does she work here?”

Good question.

One time in two years I told her I was in the weeds and she flipped out. I’ve never said it since because she’s hostile and will throw something in your face so many times you want to snap.

She’s the server that makes the bussers cry on shift. People complain about her online and to the rest of us.

She’s a walking criticizing hypocritical nightmare- one that I woke up from today and finally realize what a blessing in disguise this is.

I never have to listen to her bullshit again. I never have to acknowledge her ever again and I can wash my hands of the worst human I’ve ever met. I never have to dread walking in to find that she’s covering someone I work with, and I never have to give up shifts to avoid having to work with her again.

I wake up my same self, with a happy heart and a bright future.

She wakes up as Miss Cunt Bag- yet again. She’s facing the same day she’s faced for years. Lonely & alone and destined to stay that way because it’d take a damn fool to sign on to that nightmare.

All in all- I’ll miss my job because I truly liked one of my bosses and all the rest of my co-workers. They’re like an extended family to me…. but.

I’m a single mom, and they fired me without a seconds notice at the first of the month and with no regard to me, based on the fact I didn’t apologize and didn’t take down my blog.

They ushered me in and out with as few words as possible and I saw the writing on the wall…

They’re scared of me. It has everything to do with my blog and nothing to do with my performance- with the text messages to prove it.

This audience is too broad and what I say here- counts. They could silence me and make me endure all the torment that Cunt can dish out while I was working- but they can’t take my freedom of speech away.

Or freedom to blog.

And like I say with any guy I’ve dated- and about the real assholes in my life… if you’re afraid of my blog then you know you’re doing a shitty job.

If you’re afraid of truth, you’re not living it… and if you’re afraid of what I might say? Perhaps you should be more concerned with how you treat people.

When you’re kind and friendly- that’s all people can say about you. The same is true when you’re an asshole.

It’s going to be an interesting day, to say the least. I’ve never filed for unemployment before- I’ve never been fired for that matter.

Cheers… to the future and to never having to take a single ounce of shit from that wretched Cunt, ever again.

AMEN.

Blogging, Children, Crafting, Friends, Truth, Victory!, work, Yarden

My Everyday Fairytale

For as much as I bitch and whine… I have a beautiful life.

Anything can be better, but when faced with the reality of my day to day existence… I smile.

I miss my son like I’d miss air if I were drowning. I’ve learned to compartmentalize it because there’s simply nothing else I can do. I miss him, I love him, and I respect his teenagehood. I hated my mother when I was his age. I love her now. That’s all I’ve got to say about that.

It’s my day off today, and I woke up late from a divinely delicious dream. I woke up smiling, which I do 90% of the time. Either at my darling girl or at the day facing me. I love my job, I love my coworkers and my tomatoes started to sprout yesterday.

I woke up to a call from my darling Miss Harley which turned into a stomach-aching giggle-fest. Laughing over boys and how silly they are. Laughing at ourselves while we’re at it.

I decided to make myself a latte and sit in the greenhouse with the stack of pages I’ve written so far, and realizing for the first time that it’s not hard to read about my trip to Puerto Rico anymore. I was batshit crazy in love with him, and it was delightful. I don’t regret it or begrudge myself the guilty pleasure.

It was bubblegum ice cream delicious. I’m at my best when I’m in love. You can’t help but have a good day around me when I’m infatuated- it’s a contact high, to put it mildly. I bake cupcakes, I sew cool shit, I knit a blue streak… I garden. I am happiest when I’m in super girlfriend mode. It’s ridiculously codependent, but it’s true.

I’ve kicked my bad habit, sigh… I’ve waved goodbye to Flintstone and I haven’t really checked my internet dating email since one of my best friend’s ex-husbands emailed me to proposition me. I feel a little dirty making fun of someone for my own entertainment. Even if it is incredibly easy. … …. and fun. Chances are good I’m going to do it again. Purely to avoid fully embracing my role as the cat lady in the neighborhood.

I rolled over to a love note from my little red… with a Reese’s peanut butter cup. My favorite…. and how can any day be anything less than perfect when you start it with peanut butter and chocolate. Seriously.

It’s sunny and bright and I have broccoli to plant and a whole day to get a tan. I throw my bathrobe over the speaker and get to planting… in black panties and garden gloves. Welcome to the beauty of single womanhood. I can plant to my favorite music, in my panties with a mimosa and my shiny purple nitrile gloves the Easter Bunny brought me. Life is beautiful.

Randomly deciding to take thai food to school and have lunch with my daughter- a treat for myself and her… and we both are addicted to the red curry. Giggling with her and her friends over the boys being so weird <and resisting the urge to tell them nothing changes in 20 years… this day is perfect with a side of laughter. One of her friends asks me if I’m her sister, lol… we laughed all the way down the hall and I kissed her cute face on a day I ordinarily wouldn’t see her. AMEN.

Oh and just when things are going swimmingly…

A bad habit sighting… and regardless of the horrible way he treats me… I swallow hard when I’m not expecting to see him. They should make a patch to shake a bad man habit… Trans-dermal crack? I don’t know… I hate being betrayed by my body, and that’s what he inspires. I hate it. I’m craving him, I hate that I have to admit it, but it’s true. Is it hot in here or is it just me?

I bolted, drove home and changed into garden gear. Facing the music in the overgrown garden that is the penance I so deserve after abandoning it last summer…well… SUCKS. I’m covering it with landscape cloth to burn off the weeds before I plant. My asparagus is coming up 🙂

The worms are 15″ long at least and things are looking like a beautiful year for a beautiful garden. I’m really truly centered and happy in my giant ridiculously overwhelmingly massive garden. It’s round. It’s beautiful. It’s me. Spending my off time with my feet in the dirt makes me a million times happier than spending them in a bar or on a date.

I poured myself a cocktail, took the price tag off my new wheelbarrow that my mama gave me as an Easter basket… and went out to face the music. Oy…

But… even the worst challenge in the garden beats the worst date. It makes me feel better, carves my body into summer hot and makes me smile to my toes.

I have fingerling potatoes planted… Rose Finn Apple and Russian Banana… with more on the way. I planted my French shallots.

I broke in my new garden gloves and broke out of my winter funk. I’m happy. Really, really happy.

I’ve been through hell, and I’ve proven that I should not be the one to choose who I’ll date- so it’s up to my friends from now on. I’m not picking again. I have horrible judgment and horrible taste. I’d rather take a year long sabbatical from men entirely, if given the option.

My seeds are sprouting. My garden is on it’s way. I found 2 newts in the cardboard pile today. I’m so delighted with the simple details that surround me that I don’t feel lonely. I watched a dozen stupid movies this week and slept like a baby. I made the perfect mustache cake. I was a mom hero for the birthday party. My darling MSOK made us all look like a million dollars in big hair, which I’ve found I love.

Life is good… and even without a Prince? It’s a pretty sweet fairytale in and of itself.

Blogging, Friends, Victory!

I Liebster you too!

I suck at these awards, so I generally ignore them (sorry, I’m aware that makes me a thankless asshole). I was so incredibly touched by this one, though… so I’m breaking tradition, and participating. (Go ahead… write it down, lol)

Ok so the rules are…. I have to post the award thingy.

Awww it’s my favorite so far. Who is Liebster? I’m an information junkie… so I searched for this wonderful Mr. Or Miss Liebster… and found something even better.

Liebster is a German word that means favorite, beloved or dearest… Oh. My. Somebody likes my blog. Gush.

The rules are pretty simple, I have to:

  1. Thank your Liebster Blog Award presenter on your blog.
  2. Link back to the blogger who awarded you.
  3. Copy & paste the blog award on your blog.
  4. Reveal your 5 blog picks.
  5. Let them know you chose them by posting on their blog.

Anyone who follows my blog, knows it’s been a long fucking month….year… lifetime. I’m waking up exhausted already, heading to work hoping it’s busy because I have bills to pay. I have 2 new emails from more Thomas victims. I refuse to update the total to 19 because I don’t want to. I’m at my wits end and it’s only 9 AM. I click over to read about this award thingy and this is what greets me:

4. Another Beautiful Day in Chaos.  Oddly enough, my old friend <insert sarcasm here> Thomas Murray, introduced me to Jenni’s blog about a year ago.  I came late to her party, and, to be honest, while her writing blew me away immediately, I did not immediately relate to her. She’s younger than me by many years and our lives are very different in many ways.  However, something kept me coming back and what I discovered (along with many thousands of other readers) is an authenticity and vulnerability that is both touching and inspiring.    Jenni holds almost nothing back from her readers and the ensuing intimacy she establishes with them is real and powerful.  It’s no wonder she has the massive following she does.

Blink, blink, blink. Funny how I can write my tail off but in one short paragraph of someone writing about me, I’m struck speechless.

My writing blew HER away? Is that a good thing? I have a massive following? Really? Yikes. I still have no idea why anyone reads any of this. Ok… so panic over praise aside… I have to follow the rules.

1. Thank the person who gave you the award.

That Precarious Gait…

Um. How do you thank someone who gave you back to yourself? I came home from Puerto Rico and she was the first person to email me when I was intentionally diving head first into the rocks, day after day. I was nothing more than a crying broken mess, and she offered me truth to save my spirit. She reached out, across who knows how many miles and years that separate us in age and she dusted me off with the hands of real friendship. She did the searching I couldn’t do. She told me she’d listen any time I needed to just rant or cry about it. She apologized for not telling me what she knew, even though she knew I couldn’t hear it and wanted so much for me to have the fairytale I’d manifested for so long. Like the big sister I always longed for, she stepped in when she knew I needed help, put her verbal arm around me and stood next to me in solidarity when I didn’t know how to stand up for myself. She did something not many people have done for me in my life. She put her words out there. She stood up for me, and for truth and for what matters when it’s all said and done. She’s a woman, divinely and exquisitely female. She goes through the same things we all do, and it’s with great comfort that we read about it because if it can happen to someone so amazing, we all have to know we’re ok when it happens to us too. She’s the woman we all hope we resemble- her blog is simply delicious reading- Enjoy!

4. Ok I already covered 2 & 3… so for the next rule I have to list my 5 favorite bloggers. I’m assuming I can’t pick my lovely darling friend above, so 5 more? That’s so painfully difficult this could take me a week. In this single phase of my life, my blogger friends help ease the silence. They fill my quiet solitary hours with laughter <my own> and make me feel like I’m really not the only fabulous single woman without a light at the end of the tunnel. There are so many of us. Perhaps one day we’ll find the tribe of fabulous men looking for the same light. We are that light… and along those lines, I pick my favorite women bloggers, and damn you TPG for taking some of them, lol….

1. A Bourbon For Silvia. My first blog habit. I love her dearly and I treasure her blog. She the first one to write something that took my breath away. She’s openly sexual and taught me to be ok with being the same. She taught me to write truthfully. Shes dynamic and amazing and a mother and I love, love, love me some Sylvia. I only wish she were close enough that I could leave a bottle of bourbon on her porch.

2. Everybody Wants Some. Ohhhh I love Crystal. LOVE her. I love laughing with her, I love everything she writes and I cannot give a better gift than the link to her blog. Enjoy. You’re welcome.

3. Little Cotton Rabbits. I’ve tried to get one of her damn knit treasures for oh… at least 10 years now. I’ve never been successful, but I absolutely LOVE this woman. I learned to knit because of her. I needed my own bunny and I needed to find peace in my life. I found it through my knitting needles and I knit my baby girl the cutest bunny ever. I love her message, I envy her life and I strive to be more like her. This, ladies and gentlemen… is my mommy muse.

4. Snarky Snatch. OMG my new favorite. I freakin’ LOVE this woman. Her lesson on good head is absolutely priceless and I love a woman that embraces her sexuality with a middle finger flown at the jealous bitches. I love her, I love her words and well… don’t be surprised if you end up in wet panties after an hour on her blog. She’s got mad skills, and I love a sassy girl. Kudos baby- you write like I did before I knew my neighbors and kids teachers were reading. Thank God. I love every syllable. Today’s entry? “Random thoughts I have when I don’t have a penis in my mouth” I rest my case. Go. Read. Enjoy, or better yet? Take notes.

5. I have to break my promise and share my very favorite blogger, who happens to be a guy…. Your Pal Jason. I love this man. I get the whole fan thing when it comes to him because I have a bit of a crush. He’s smart and funny… OMG so so so funny…. and well… I love a man armed with words. Out of the 150 blogs I follow, he’s the only one on immediate delivery and if I had a million dollars I’d pay him to write for me day and night. I ♥ Jason. Awww.

Phew. Done. I followed all the rules- write it down. 🙂

Blogging, Truth, Victory!, Whine/Rant

The Breeder

I’m an asshole sometimes, I totally admit it and I don’t even apologize for it anymore. I’ve been on the receiving end of it for so long it feels kind of nice to return the favor.

I’m hand picking the weirdos and I don’t feel bad about it. It’s funny, and I’d rather write a book about the horrors of internet dating than the book about the King of Douche Bagastan.

In choosing this date, I filtered through the emails clogging my inbox. Some of them are nice… which makes me a little tempted to date a normal one, but I just can’t resist the hilarity of picking the less fantastic options. I’m never nervous on a first date anymore, and when you go into it expecting it to be bad, mortifying or awkward? You can only be delighted when it happens.

This one wins.

Cakegurl, Funny,I hate text-ers! I am in construction so I think that is cool you do projects! I’m sure you would be a distraction. You sound like a hand full, …..But very interesting…..I just want to know where the nun outfit came in out of curiosity? I LOVE GOD!

Clearly the man doesn’t know that I would not be dating if I were a nun. I’m going to run with it. Why not?

I may as well take paper and a pen… because I’m cataloging details the moment I arrive at the restaurant.

I’m exhausted… I was up late drinking & dancing with the beautiful man I have a crush on. My eyelashes are still on from last night, so I throw a quick coat of mascara on, fresh lipstick, a sweatshirt and jeans.

My hair is a bit of an epic disaster at this point- so it’s in a ponytail. I hit my head on something the other night and it hurts to pull it up tightly… pig tails it is.

Can we say little to no effort? Eeek.

I picked him based on his religious preference. He’s one of those Quiverfull weirdos. Short version? They think of children as arrows in the quiver of your life… the more the merrier.

Uh… no. Not for me. I’m a big fan of tearing down the factory to build a playground. My days of gestating and lactating are over. I won’t be contributing further to the population.

This one is weird enough that it’s a coffee date…. mainly because I work tonight and I’m sleepy. A caramel macchiato with a side of zealot.

He walks in and I know immediately that he is being judgy. He shakes my hand and asks me if the drive was ok. I drove 5 minutes to his hour and ten… and I realize I told him I lived in the next city over. Shit… I’m too tired to be doing this today. I’d rather be curled up in my bed, in my jammies.

He asks me the usual questions. What do you do, how old are your kids, what kind of food do you eat and do you attend any religious services?

Oh I’m a nun, my kids are 4 & 6, I’m picky and don’t like anything and yes, I never miss a Sunday.

<snort>

A text comes in on my phone and I grin and answer… sorry ya’ll but I’ll be damned if I let a weirdo cockblock.

Because he’s gone into religious zealot mode and is detailing his very broad view of family… he’s a huge fan of the Duggars. He thinks birth control is a sin.

I wouldn’t so much as let this guy near my toothbrush if I were fertile. He’s my absolute worst fear. He’s a breeder.

blink….blink….blink

“Fearfully and wonderfully made” comes out of his mouth three times before I start to text back. Awww what. I’d rather flirt with the guy on my phone than the lunatic in front of me. I’m tired. My manners are shot… and I kind of hate men.

Not all men…. just the ones I’m attracted to.

“That’s a bad bruise, where did you get that?” He points to my chest, where there’s a thumbprint bruise. Uh… I realize I’m not really listening to him and he glares at the phone in my hands when I start laughing and send another text.

Ever the willing pain in the ass and with my phone blowing up every ten seconds, I run with it.

I’m spending more time texting than I am talking and he’s barely catching his breath. I keep expecting him to pull a pamphlet out of the briefcase he’s carrying.

Q- How do you feel about a large family?

J- I have one. Seven sisters and one brother.

Q- There are 13 in my family.

J- Wow, sisters, brothers?

Q- My youngest is 2.

Ohhh…. he’s talking about his children.

Wait a minute… hold the fucking phone.

J- 13 children? Holy moly… how many loaves a bread does it take to make sandwiches at your house?

Q- 2 or 3.

I was joking… he’s not.

J- I have two. I will always only have two.

Q- Interesting. It was nice having coffee with you.

At which point he got up, smiled… and left.

oooops…. but….

I played my asshole card and won, lol…

One down, 5 to go…. my gawd internet dating is so fun sometimes….