Queen B

Archive for the ‘Who comes up with this stuff?’ Category

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I’m a loser, baby

In Random nonsense, Self-deprecating humor, Who comes up with this stuff? on February 5, 2012 at 2:05 pm

It’s been one of those kind of weekends.

Hubby has been hard at work on the basement all weekend.

We needed supplies from Menards, so we made a stop first at the grocery for ingredients to make an easy dinner.  While I was shopping, my phone made its distinctive dinging sound, which meant I had a text.

It was my sister, asking on behalf of her daughter if MY daughter was coming to the sleep over birthday party that started an hour earlier. Preplanned. With USPS mailed invitations and everything.

The evening started an unnatural (and uncomfortable) acceleration from that ding going forward.

Oh, and then there was this on our way out:

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Don’t be jealous.  The little one gave me a Valentine, and the big one gave me a hug.  An awkward one, of course, him being in a box and all.  But, I mean, how do you say no to a gift directly from God?  Not a gift just for me entirely, obviously.  Apparently I have to share with all women, if I’m reading the tag correctly.

Yea, it’s been one of THOSE types of weekends.

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Welcome

In Serious Fun, Who comes up with this stuff? on November 30, 2011 at 1:13 pm

The Frank Family Chorus would like to welcome the holiday season with song.

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Those Smurfs got nothing on us.

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Gender bias

In Punishment for what?, Who comes up with this stuff? on July 2, 2011 at 1:03 am

Normally I’m all feminist and shit, in case you were wondering.  Not like in-your-face feminism or anything, but it’s in there.  I vote it, I think it, I teach it to my children, occasionally I talk about it, I live it.  Every so often I become outraged over it and shake my fists at stuff.  I know the entire song about Woman’s Suffrage from Schoolhouse Rock.

Of course I know the lyrics to pretty much all the music I’ve ever heard since childhood, but still.

All of this makes the crap I put up with at my job that much more shocking.

A few days ago I came home and realized that although we have been mowing our lawn every week, it had been many weeks since we had weed whipped it (or weed whacked for those of you who prefer that terminology, we like to call things by strange names around here).  All of my flower beds (and in some cases, weed beds) are edged by large boulders and rocks so the mower can only get so close.  Normally THE MAN handles the whipping, but as I’ve mentioned ad nauseam, he’s been abroad, and then we’ve been up to our eyeballs in mineral wool insulation (itchy), drywall (heavy), and paint (causing carpal tunnel, I’m pretty sure).

In answer to my complaining about the lack of whipping, my husband gave me a quick tutorial on using the whipper machine.  Let me just stop here for a second for a WTF.

WTF, dude?!

Let me tell you how pathetic it was when I came home from work the next day and whipped the edges of my yard (of which there are trillions, I’ve decided).  It was the very first time I had ever whipped a yard, and I expected it to be tedious, but not horrific.  I was wrong.  It was horrific.  I had to take breaks; like, as in to set down the whipping machine so that my arms would not fall right off of my torso.  A lot of them.  It was embarrassing, and I’m pretty sure the neighbors were all in their windows pointing and laughing.  I was excited when the evil stick ran out of gas.  Then THE MAN filled the damned thing back up while I wasn’t looking and left it for me to finish while he took my girl to the library.

Whippers are not made for short people, I decided.  I tried to pass along that little tidbit of information, but THE MAN claimed that it’s just as difficult for him and he’s much taller than me.  I’m not buying it.  I had dirt in my hair.  In all of it.  I don’t think that he has a 1:1 ratio of dirt to hair on his head by the time he’s finished whipping.

When I tried to eat my dinner, I complained the entire time that I couldn’t lift my arms.  In my whiniest, saddest of voices.  I couldn’t. Lift. My. Arms.  Got no sympathy, as usual.

THE MAN tells me “you don’t have to do it every week.” as if I will ever be whipping anything again.  Silly thing.

Man’s work.  For reals.

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London Calling

In Random nonsense, Things we've put the ground, Who comes up with this stuff? on June 15, 2011 at 8:21 pm

So my hubby made it safely to the other side of the pond.  He was landing on solid ground as I was dragging my dead ass to work on Monday.  I work at an obscenely early hour, I just decided.  As if I hadn’t already made that clear.

Is obscenely a word?  As it relates to my work schedule, it must be.

As is common practice, I have turned into a completely different type of parent now that THE MAN isn’t around.  Letting the kids sleep in my bed, staying up late playing video games, eating ice cream, renting 4 movies from Redbox even though we won’t watch them all before they’re due back, eating out, having lots of kids over.  Yea, I’m really living on the edge.

Besides all the enjoyable stuff, there’s plenty of not enjoyable stuff going on, too.  Moving rocks around in my yard (big rocks), adding dirt by the 40 lb bag (there’s a million places that could use topsoil around here, I get 5-6 bags every time we go to Home Depot…15 so far this week), painting the primer on the drywall, spraying round up on the weeds.

This is the first time I’ve really used a weed killer in my yard, and I’m really struggling with it.  On the one hand, I put together the diaphragm pump hubby bought me all by myself, and I was really happy to have it.  Then, as I was spraying weeds all over the place, I started thinking about how many toads there used to be when I was growing up around here.  There were also turtles, frogs, and snakes.  I haven’t seen a snake in YEARS (no thanks to my mom, I might add).  I know it’s all the chemicals we (as a community, I don’t have lawn treatment) put in the grass and all over every living thing.  I have… GUILT.  Over the weeds.  On the other hand, I have no chance against the weeds up in here!  Seriously I am fighting a losing battle.  As in I’m being bludgeoned by cotton pickin’ thistle to within inches of my life.  Yes, I know that it’s actually a beautiful plant when it flowers, but it also hurts if you so much as brush up against it.  I could fill a landscape bag with thistle right now if I put my mind to it.  A whole bag.  Just thistle.  Oh, and don’t get me started on the Stinging Nettle which has made itself quite comfortable leaning into the seating area on my lower deck.  For those who haven’t encountered this lovely invasive, yes, it lives up to its name and stings.  FOR HOURS.

So after a multi-year and ongoing toad relocation project, I feel like I’m no better than any of the other jokers out there chemically spraying the life out of everything.  Besides which, as of this morning the damned weeds weren’t even looking like they have been affected!

What the french, toast?

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Dumbass move of the day

In Who comes up with this stuff? on May 31, 2011 at 4:00 pm

Last night I took back my library book.  It was after hours, so I used the handy-dandy drive up deposit window.  Apparently I ALSO deposited a book that I had borrowed from my mother.

OOPS!

Today, when I realized what I had done, I phoned the library to retrieve my mother’s book, and I was told “don’t count on getting it back.”

Uhhhhhh, ‘scuse Me??

Yea.  Apparently if you deposit a book in the book drop that isn’t a library book, they “assume” that it’s a donation for the Friends of the Library program which sells used books a couple of times per year to raise funds for library programs.  OK, I get that, but have they ever heard the saying about assumptions over there at the library?  What if someone such as myself was to call in to tell someone that it was an accidental drop?  Because in this instance, it was an ACCIDENT.  And, !HELLO!, I phoned with the information BEFORE the books were picked up for the Friends.

I was told, in fact, that all of the donated books from the book deposit were there, in a bin.

NO, of course I couldn’t come to look through it myself for the book!  NO, of course they wouldn’t be looking through them to retrieve my book for me!  NO, I should not expect anyone to return my call (after I forced the woman to take my name and number with the description and title of the book)!  NO, no one cares about my damned book!

NO, I should not even entertain the thought that the woman on the phone was going to pass on my message!  Because, you know, she told me not to hold my breath or be hopeful or anything of that sort.  If I ever wanted to whip out the whole “I pay your salary!” line and shake my fist at someone, today was the day.

Assholes.

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This just in

In Who comes up with this stuff? on May 27, 2011 at 5:44 pm

Pinterest is all “You’re Invited!!” now.  After what, a couple of weeks?  What on the internet takes a couple of weeks?  It’s insanity.  I think that they are just trying to create a false sense of inflated interest or something.

I am so on to you, Pinterest.

Maybe I’ve become disinterested.  Maybe I’m aloof now.  Maybe I’ve forgotten and moved on.  Maybe I don’t want to be invited now!

Maybe, shmaybe.

I’m SO IN!!

 

**Edited to add:  Pinterest is SO cool!  It ISN’T a false interest, it really is THAT GOOD!  I totally heart Pinterest.**

That is all.

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Miffed

In Who comes up with this stuff? on May 19, 2011 at 4:03 pm

So after months and months of thinking that I don’t need another place to waste my time on the internet what with the blog reading, the blog writing, Craigslist, YouTube, Ebay, Ravelry, Plurk, Lifehacker, Etsy, Instructables, Runkeeper, and FACEBOOK for the love of GOD… I gave in and popped over to Pinterest.  I read about it all the time; it’s so interesting, and cool, and fun, and full of awesome ideas I wouldn’t be able to resist!  OK, I admit it, I can’t resist!!

It all looks so, so pretty!  I am so weak.

I went to the site to set up an account, but all I could find was a button that said “Request an Invite.”  Really?  An invite?  MmmmmK.  When I clicked on it, I was instructed only to enter my email address.  Quickly, I opened a new window to find the email invitation that was surely instantaneous.

Instead?

An email to tell me I”ve been placed on the waiting list.  There’s a waiting list.  A WAITING LIST, I SAY!!

For a website.

Yes, I’m serious.

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Ditka and mini Ditka

In The little roomies, They're... family?, Who comes up with this stuff? on January 17, 2011 at 12:27 pm

In case you didn’t know, the Bears won their playoff game against the Seattle Seahawks on Sunday.  In a big way.

Prior to that, there were a number of outlets giving away playoff tickets to willing fan participants.  You know what I mean… radio stations, stores, television programs find people who are willing to do funny/crazy/humiliating things for a chance to attend a game in 12 degree weather in Chicago.  Ever wonder where they find those people?

Well……… apparently they find them at my house.  Because we’re THOSE kind of people.

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What in the Sam Hell?

In Punishment for what?, Who comes up with this stuff? on January 6, 2011 at 5:46 pm

Something strange happened today.

I was sitting in my house ALL ALONE.

THE END.

Oh, I do crack myself up.  No, that’s not really the end!  Although that is very, very strange.

I’ll start again.

I was sitting in my house, ALL ALONE, when I spotted something moving out of the corner of my eye.  It hit something on the mantle of my fireplace and knocked it to the floor.  I got up to find out what had flown across the room to hit the angel off of the mantle.  The dog got up and started barking at nothing at the other end of the room.  Not barking at the door as if she heard something and thought someone had come to the door, but barking at the space in front of the television set.  I couldn’t find anything that was out of place as if it had flown across the room to knock an angel off of the mantle.

It freaked me out.

My first thought was a texting “conversation” I had with my cousin who said that my uncle has been talking to her in her dreams.  ’Shit, he’s fucking haunting me, this is just what I need.’  I started wracking my brain to remember if he ever threatened that or not.  I’m still unsure, but I think YES.

I told my husband.  Not the haunting part, just the incident and the freaked out a little part.  Of course he had to spread it around his office, so that they all know *For SURE* that he’s married to a crazy.

Hi honey!  Thanks for that!!!

Then he called me back to let me know that he had told everyone (in case I was wondering), they had discussed it at length (yeah!), and they had decided that I need to look behind the picture frames to find the BAT that is probably in the house.

AS IF!!

And what EXACTLY happens after your crazy wife finds a BAT (no, not as in BASEBALL!!!) behind a picture frame in your house, genius?  Ask your little work buddies THAT, and THEN get back to me.

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Baby it’s cold outside

In Random nonsense, Who comes up with this stuff? on January 1, 2011 at 10:19 pm

Well, winter is finally here, isn’t it?  After a 50+ degree day yesterday!  Yikes.

There has been so much happening, and I just feel three steps behind.  Hooks’ passing, the nearly immediate services and all of the activity that was involved with that, my gf Maureen’s party for her husband down on the farm, my son’s birthday, Christmas Eve (cancelled in the traditional sense), my brother and family visiting from the East coast, Christmas, New Year’s Eve.

A pineapple incident that landed me in the ER.

I feel exhausted just thinking about it.

We have lots to catch up on, but I just spent an entire day (practically) uploading photos to Facebook and I can hardly stand it.  You know I have to have at least a few self deprecating photographs I’ve saved up that I just HAVE to share.  Can you say glutton for punishment?

Do you have any patience left for me?  It’s a new year, after all.  I’m sure you can muster up just a smidge.

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