Category Archives: Enemies

Preconceived Notions…

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I’m always amused by the people who read my blog and think it’s a description of my character or even a shadow of who I really am.

I’m especially bemused by the people who believe everything they read. I’d be willing to bet these are the same folks that watch Fox news.

This is my verbal exhale, my wordy little cathartic playground. Play nice or fuck off. Yeah… that’s how it is.

I couldn’t care less if you’re critical, judgmental or hell-bent to dislike me. Go ahead- drink your big ol’ glass of Hater-ade and keep on reading. If anything you inspire me to be spicy…just to get under your skin and piss you off.

I’m an amazing woman. I’m a great daughter, a happy mommy and so very much more than a bunch of words typed in anger, sadness, disappointment… or even joy, love and hope.

If I’m going to be judged by anyone? It’ll be by the people I love and care about that I choose to have in my personal life. If you know me personally? Then none of this comes as a surprise.

I’m the one that leaves dinner on your doorstep, takes your kids when you’re sick and knits your mom a hat when she has cancer and all her hair falls out. True story.

I love deeply… I forgive quickly… and I do not carry a grudge. I move through my life with respect to everyone and everything around me. I say nice things. I do nice things. I believe in Karma before all else, and if you think for a second that I don’t judge myself a million times harder than anyone? Think again.

There’s a lot you’ll never know about me, because for as much as I share… I am intensely private and constantly concerned about hurting someone’s feelings. I don’t like it when people dislike me- and I will go to the ends of the earth to apologize when I’m wrong.

My mother told me nearly every day as a child… “To err is human, to forgive, divine”. We were browbeaten with the golden rule & taught to help, love & nurture the people and things in our lives.

So shoot me if I’m a bit of a vixen behind closed doors… shouldn’t every fantastic woman be?

I’ve put my trust where it wasn’t valued, and I’ve shared my heartache with the masses. If that makes me a bad person in your eyes then I apologize for your inept holier than thou attitude… OH and I have a list of guys I’d love to set you up on a date with… <snicker>…

I’ve made turning the other cheek an art form and have learned to keep my chin up even as the water flooded in up to my pearl-clad earlobes.

I’m a woman, Phenomenally… Phenomenal woman, that’s me. – Maya Angelou

Feeling a little sensitive this morning, obviously… and definitely annoyed that people still waste time judging anyone else- but whatev… If it’s one thing I’ve learned by blogging, it’s that you can’t please everyone, and sometimes it’s just a lot more fun to tell someone to kick rocks, plus I’m pretty good at burning the verbal house down.

Would life be any fun if we were all the same? No. Would it be better if I wasn’t outspoken? No. Should I give a fuck what anyone thinks? No. That’s their shit- not mine.

I happen to think I’m pretty sweet. I think you’d have a hard time arguing with me if you were a friend of mine, or loved by me. In fact, I know this- because I make an effort to really truly love the people I’m blessed to have in my life.

All of whom would go to the ends of the Earth for me, because I’d do the same.

Some things you don’t know- and should… because obviously I care what you think even though I wish I didn’t, lol….

~ I’m a sentimental hoarder. I save all the art projects, all the report cards, etc… that my children have made. My favorites are laminated… ya know… because they’re my most priceless possessions. I have a china cabinet in my living room full of homemade “treasures”. People look in it and laugh… but if the house caught on fire I’d risk my life to save its contents.

~ I’ll hold your baby while you eat, even while I’m working. I’m that nice lady that refills your drink and charms your little monster long enough that you can eat hot food. Regardless of the tip or if it affects your opinion of me. I do it because I love little people and I’m a supermom.

~ I remember what your favorite color is, your favorite candy… your favorite flowers- because I’m thoughtful and I want you to have what you love on your birthday.

~ I write under pressure of a deadline because I’m writing a book and I would love to not have to ask “Would you like chips or fries with that” for the rest of my life. I look at the big picture, not the thumbnails. I care about the example I set for my children and though I’m proud that I’m able to support this crazy expensive household… it’s more important to me that they see me do what I love and what I enjoy because I want that for both of them.

~ Regardless of money being ridiculously tight- you can have my last $5 if you need it. I give freely with no expectation of the same being returned. I won’t hassle you to repay it- but if you don’t it will definitely be the last time. I’m nice, not stupid :)

~ I make heart shaped pancakes… and I’m so OCD I separate the batter so that some of them are pink and some of them are white… I know… it’s silly… but those are the little details that make me have a wonderful day….I don’t eat them. ♥

~ I feed the cat tuna fish and the dogs chicken and rice every once in a while… purely because I would be miserable if I had to eat the same old boring dry crunchies every day.

~ I put my extra pennies in the take-a-penny dish at the gas station.

I’m nice, dammit… and a blessing to have in your life if you’re so lucky.

So there.

Hmph…. I’m burning these damn people pleasing panties, once and for all.

Bah humbug…

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It just wouldn’t be Christmas without a little angry rant, now would it? I have a treasure trove after today, to the point that I started laughing about it during the lunch rush today.

I’ve been sick for 3 weeks. I sound like shit. I feel worse. I spend the night coughing in my beautiful Tempurpedic/Goose down heaven or unconscious from the overdose of NyQuil I’ve managed to force down. It’s starting to get better… but today is definitely a low day. I couldn’t stomach the NyQuil last night and I’m exhausted as a result. Working what equates to my Friday. Phew.

Our ugly sweater employee party is tonight and I can’t not go… even though I’d really much rather climb into bed with my darling daughter and sleep instead of knit all the secret shit Santa just MUST produce in order to satisfy my idea of what it “should” look like. I’m damn thankful we didn’t manage to get the karaoke we’d been hoping to have at the party, because I have about one note to my name, and it’s not a pretty one anyone wants to listen to.

I’m exhausted. Sad. Not really coming to terms with a Christmas without my son and without a single idea of what to give him for Christmas. Meh. This holiday shit sucks when life is a little sideways.

My phone rings… Ahhhh Amen. Just what the doctor ordered… he who makes me smile at just the sound of the honey dripping from his beautiful lips. The man should give lessons to the rest of y’all.

Hearing my favorite man on the phone tell me I’m fucking incredible… inspired a little impromptu happy dance with my mommy, who is laughing at the same time.

M- Oh baby… I was just saying… sometimes one person’s voice makes the whole day smile.

My mama’s so smart…

Thank God for him- that’s all I have to say… because I had one of the worst customers I’ve ever had, today.

Miss Harley and I work the Wednesday afternoon shift and it’s seamless perfection. It’s my favorite shift of the week and I love the fact that I actually get paid to work with my best friends and for people who appreciate & respect me. I may not get rich doing it- but I’ll get the job done with a smile on my face and knowing I’m surrounded by some of my best friends.

Lovely Miss Harley smiles at me…

H- 14 is you. Good luck…

J- Oh God… what is that hair she has on?

H- Highly flammable if I were going to venture a guess.

J- Maybe we should move her away from the fire?

I walk over and greet them, and she’s one of Those Women. By “Those” I mean horrible and by “women” I mean bitch. Her hair is at least 8 inches high and apparently laquered into some sort of dome/mountain of black destruction. She has Halloween eyelashes on… at least an inch long… and her face is some sort of homage to Tammy Faye Baker.

I’m not kidding.

Her friend is a dowdy thing, in sweats and a Sponge Bob Square pants tank top with a sequined wrap.

Where the fuck is Candid Camera hiding, because You. Cannot. Be. Serious.

Oh yes, yes they are. They’re also rude, dismissive and pretentious. Oh my.

Big Hair Bitch- I’d like the soup and salad… with the chicken noodle. I want you to pick the chicken out of my soup.

I’m stunned silent. This is called chicken noodle soup because we put chicken in it. I’m not sure if she hasn’t noticed my voice, but of all the people on this earth I’d ask to pick through my food… I’d be the last on that list. I blinked a few times and felt the entire weight of what I do for a living fall on my shoulders. Good fucking grief. Just because I’m happy to help you, doesn’t mean you can treat me shit for your $3 bullshit tip.

J- Um… I’m sorry, I can’t pick the chicken out of your soup… it’s sort of mixed in. Do you want me to give you a minute to find something else?

BHB- No. I want you to pick the chicken out.

J- Actually I can’t do that. It’d be impossible, it’s mixed in and if you don’t eat chicken I wouldn’t order it.

She hasn’t looked at me once. She’s incredibly rude and dismissive and Ms. Sponge Bob is looking horrified. I have a friend like this. I won’t go out to eat with her because it’s embarrassing and I’m not a soulless hateful troll. Whatev… perhaps she’s equally as annoying in other ways?

Spongebob- I want the chicken sandwich.

Ok… again… good grief. Ok… I’m on it. I’ve got this. Soup and stuff, coming right up.

I run my ass off for them both. They take turns sending me back and forth for things like extra dressing, toothpicks, boxes, extra pickles?, mayo….. etc. They don’t figure it out together, I make a separate trip for each of them, at least 8 times. I’m over it. I’m sick of both of them. The Bitch can just plain fuck off and poor Sponge Bob needs to grow a set.

They’re done and I drop their check at the table, thanking them both and wishing them a happy holiday… since hey… even cuntfaces believe in Santa, right?

She tipped me a penny.

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That big hair, pick the chicken out of my chicken noodle soup, then run your ass off until you’re ragged, bitch… tipped me a penny.

For the first time, she smiled at me… and I counted the change mentally and smiled back.

J- Ooops! One too many!

I set the penny back down on the table, wished them a Merry Christmas and walked back to care for my nice, sweet, happy and wonderful customers- who collectively overtipped me today.

Some people should need a license to leave the house.

Especially the tacky bitches.

They should need two.

To hell with cold…

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Revenge is a dish best served HOT.

Miss Smileypants, yours truly… is at least 3 or 4 inches off the ground and forcing people to smile back instinctively. I can smile you into submission at this point. It’s futile to try to have a bad day around me.

Waking up in the best way possible at this point, I was inspired to be super girly today. Curly hair, red lipstick, knee high black boots and a little black dress. Enjoying the opportunity to break out my pretty cashmere coat with the fur collar. It’s a wonderful thing to be a girl.

Postponing planting the garlic… which I shouldn’t do because the snow is looming and it will seriously suck if I end up planting in the snow. Nothing really describes how badly it sucks to have to shovel, then chisel your way into being able to plant 3″ deep. That description alone should speak for itself.

Sinking instead into what I love most. Domesticity. Cleaning the house, washing the dishes, doing laundry… and (of course) knitting a little bit. Carving three more pumpkins (for the seeds) and being spoiled by the smell of sugar pie pumpkins baking in the oven all day.

Mmm… hello bliss, I remember you.

I’m determined to fix the silverware drawer in the kitchen because it got old about a month ago having the drawer take up counter space. Trying one last time to find a drawer track that will fit before I end up making my own.

Nothing beats the hardware store when you’re at your girly best, and I’m sporting a million megawatt smile to go along with my list of supplies. They are so nice- as a woman if you’re ever having a bad day- put a dress on and go to Home Depot. Trust me on this- they don’t think you know a thing, but they’ll fall all over themselves to help you find what you’re looking for.

The nice man in the red vest & tool belt takes my list and basket and starts to find each thing, one by one. Telling me what a good wife I am to pick up the stuff “he” needs. lol…only to walk around the corner and see the stupid Dirty Boat Thief. I stood and looked at him for a minute, grinning… one eyebrow daring him to say a word.

Only to hear Kelly Clarkson singing…

I can’t resist… I pull my phone out and Shazam it while I’m dancing along. The hardware man dances a little with me, laughing and handing me the basket, wishing me luck.

I walked by him, and heard him call me a bitch under his breath… and I couldn’t help it…I burst out laughing. To my toes, in my heart, with all the joy that’s spilling over these days kind of laughter. Loudly enough that people turned and smiled to see what was so funny.

J- Bless your heart.

One wink and I was on my way out the door, with my delighted smile, intact.

Reminded again that she who laughs, lasts.

♥

Sitting Duck

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Aw hell.

Didn’t I just say how messy life was, and how normal that was?

I lied.

It’s only easy to make that sweeping statement when the shit is hitting the fan in someone else’s life.

Mine? Not so much.

I had a delightful girls night with my baby. Thai food, rootbeer floats, foodie spree at Super 1… both mother and daughter falling into sweet domestic cozy bliss. Knitting side by side and laughing at the crazy stuff on TV.

Easy peasy pumpkin pie kind of night. Full of everything I love most, while delighted with Mr. Captivated for having a life of his own that allows me all the time and space I need to be neck deep in Momville. Most say they can handle it… but so far none have been able to.

Throwing out an invitation as a “Hey, thanks for not freaking out that I don’t want you every second” offer… and happy to tuck my little lovely into my bed when I don’t hear from him. It’s truly the best of both worlds.

He actually is ok. He’s actually not flipping out. It can actually happen. Whoa. Hearing nagging thoughts in the back of my mind and silencing them just as quickly. It is what it is.

My feet are achy tired and I’m still exhausted after two majorly productive two days off. I opened the front door and saw it was rainy and it made up my mind in a second. Hot tub in the rain. 106* in the tub, cool & rainy.

My roommate is gone for the weekend, and the house is asleep and quiet. I drop my clothes at the door, grab a towel and climb in. Ahhhh….. heaven. For 15 minutes the worlds problems (and mine) cease to exist.

Thankful for another easier day. Happy and surrounded by happy. Getting the peach jam going… and working on the white plum vanilla bean tomorrow. Fall is my favorite season, and any time there’s reason to do some canning… I’m happy to oblige. It’s old fashioned- yes, but it’s unbelievably satisfying.

Which is when I hear my name.

S- Jenni?

Oh God… Please Lord let me be wrong… let that be my Captivated friend…

S- Hey. I know- I shouldn’t have stopped by without calling.

No. Not him. Definitely not. I’m not really sure what to do at this point… other than cross my arms across my chest and pray he’s less crazy than I’ve begun to believe he is.

S- I’m leaving this week.

Oh god… Sober One Kenobe always told me one of them was going to murder me.

S- I just wanted to see you again before I left.

Honestly… what I’m thinking in the moment… is how much I wish I’d bought a gun. How much I wish I had one right now and how much I wish I didn’t feel totally and completely vulnerable to this fan turned stalker, walking up my driveway.

I have a pair of panties on. No bra. My cell phone…. and a lighter. He could get to me before I could get out and into the house.

Time to get the fucking chop saw out and get building… the hot tub cannot be a place where you become prey.

J- I respect how you feel, but you need to leave. You’re making me really uncomfortable, and honestly… you’re scaring me.

Holy.

S- Oh no, I’ll go. I don’t want you to be scared. I love you- you’re a wonderful girl and I’m sorry.

Wow….

He walked back down the driveway and I stopped just short of having a heart attack getting the hell out of the hot tub and into the house.

Yikes, and what the fuck? I turn the boys I’m not interested in, into stalkers…. and get cheated on by the ones I love.

Go figure.

It’s all just totally and completely too much to deal with.

I realized it tonight when my daughter was laughing and singing “Drop it, drop it low girllll” because I can finally drive the stupid damn manual without either of us fearing for our lives.

The reason I’m Captivated is because it’s on my own terms, and he doesn’t want anything from me.

It keeps me interested while leaving me free to do what I want. It’s the best of both worlds.

And if nothing else? When I was freaking out and didn’t know what to say? I borrowed the words he used…. and they worked.

I don’t work until tomorrow at 4…

I’d say it’s time to start building an escape platform.

Put On Your Judgy Panties

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I’ll be the first person to admit I can be quite the Judgy McJudgerpants. We all can… it’s inherent any time someone is offended or feels superior.

I do it every time I see a newborn with a bottle of formula. I’m one of those die-hard breastfeeders. My babies did not have bottles. My disgust is palpable. I look apologetically at the baby. I stop just short of shaking my head at her. I admit it’s horrible- but I’m insanely judgmental when it comes to breast vs. bottle. Give your baby a boobie or don’t have one. Yeah… I feel that passionately.

We all have our soap boxes… and we all put those panties on occasionally.

Hippies in the grocery store in the winter with tiny barefoot babies? Don’t even get me started.

People who smoke with their kids in the car? Heaven help you if you’re stopped at a light next to me.

Men who have the audacity to talk to me about abortion? No. I’m sorry; if you can’t possibly do the job in question, you have absolutely no ground to stand on.

Blogging out loud leaves me surrounded by a fairly decent population of Judgy McJudgerpants. It used to really bother me. It used to hurt my feelings desperately.

Until I decided to take my Sensy panties off. There’s no point in being sensitive to people who don’t have a clue what your life consists of.

I’d rather go commando than worry about what people think about me. If they’re actual friends or people I care about? They’ll say it straight to my face. Or they wont. Either way? I have one basic piece of advice.

If you’re offended by something? You’re the only person that can change that. Speak up or shut up. Silently stewing or gossiping only makes you look like an ass.

Remember though, before you act on your Judgy panties, that there is always more to the story and always more than you can know when you’re simply looking at a situation from afar.

There are medical reasons some women can’t breastfeed. Some people don’t think twice about lighting up with their kids in the car because it’s how they were raised. Some men feel as passionately about being Pro Life as I do about being Pro Choice.

My feeling a certain way does not entitle me to pass judgement on anyone else who chooses differently. I have not walked a mile in their shoes, I do not know from whence they came.

But it doesn’t stop me any more than it ever stops anybody else. It’s human nature. It’s an immature way to self validate your convictions.

Embrace your Judgy panties…. and your Sensy panties too for that matter.

Just do the world a favor and wear your big girl/boy panties the majority of the time.