FML

Hello Dear Readers,

I have two grievances I must air.

1. Juan Uribe is a big fat fucking ASSHOLE!!
2. Glee is fucking pissing me off!

Perhaps these two things are affecting me more than usual because of some things that have transpired in my life that have me in a bit of dither. Nonetheless I stand by my statements. Why? You may ask. The reasons are simple I need something to be mad at and since I can't yell and scream at the actual cause of my dither-ness I choose instead to vent my frustrations at two men who have never crossed my path, Ryan Murphy (the creator and writer of Glee) and Juan Uribe (the traitorous jerk who was a Giant until he became a Dodger yesterday).

Seriously Uribe?!?! You became a Dodger? You went from being a Giant to being a member of team that is the equivalent of being a Capulet and then deciding to be a Montague. Really!?!?! Do you remember your friend, and up until recently fellow Giant, Barry Zito?? Do you know what happens when you go to a rival team!?!? YOU CHOKE! YOU CHOKE YOU FAT FUCKING PRICK!! Just like Zito has never pitched worth a shit since becoming a Giant after being an A you will never EVER be a decent anything now as a Dodger. YOU ARE CURSED NOW DUMBASS!!

Oh Ryan Murphy--where shall I begin? Shall I begin with declaring you unoriginal and repetitive? Shall I ask you what the fuck possessed you to recycle the whole "Emma/Wedding" idea for this year's sectionals? Better yet, why the fuck did you revisit the whole Rachel and Puck thing--IT WAS STUPID. Also, I HATE BLAINE!! HE'S BORING!! Every time he steps on the screen I want to gouge my eyes out with rusty spoons to keep my boredom at bay. And the cliched reference to Kurt being the bird he was taking care of??!? FUCKING STUPID!! I get it Kurt's changing, he's going through a transition, well guess the fuck what--so am I! I am transitioning from Glee fan to Glee non-fan!

I feel slighty better now, also, I'm tired, but also restless and I need to try and sleep. So I bid good night and adieu....for now, sleep tight. Dream of rainbows and happy things--I will be dreaming of kicking Uribe's ass!

Thoughts for the day...

Dear Hollywood Foreign Press,

Thank you for giving Glee the Golden Globe that it deserved for best comedy, the look on Tina Fey's face when 30 Rock lost was lovely. I must cry foul however, with choosing to award best supporting actress in a television show to Chole Sevigny instead of Jane Lynch. Jane Lynch is hilarious on Glee! Chole Sevigny is weird, and so is her character, so is she really actually acting? One must ponder that question....if we all got Golden Globes for being ourselves, I'd have 50 for being a nerdy bitch.

Dear Chole Sevigny,

I'm glad that guy stepped on your dress and ripped it when you were going up to get your award! Ha ha!

Dear James Cameron,

You suck. That is all.

Dear Bret Favre,

You're an indecisive bastard who is clearly obssessed with reliving your glory days. FUCKING RETIRE ALREADY!

Dear Mother Nature,

Enough with the rain. It frizzes my hair and pisses me off--you try flat ironing it everyday!

Dear Parent Who Yelled Something Mean at My Nephew's Soccer Game Yesterday,

If your kid's team ever plays my nephew's team again and you yell at my nephew, you will never have to worry about yelling or talking again because I will rip your tongue out.

I feel better now, my grievances have been aired. Now, if I could just win the lottery I'd be set!

Run mad as often as you chuse, but do not feint.

Ah, Jane Austen. If only I lived in your time. I would live in the English countryside, my time would be spent drinking tea and learning frivolous girly things. I could read books all day and take long beautiful walks to clear my head. My wit, intelligence and charm would then make me the object of a wealthy and dashing man's affection and after many obstacles we would marry and return to our beautiful estate. Sigh. Why oh why can't life really be like this? Okay, so women in Jane Austen's time also had to depend on men for everything, they couldn't inherit anything, and their future depended on making a good marriage--whether there was love involved or not, but still I prefer to imagine it as Jane wrote it and therefore I would like to reside in that time period--begining immediately.

Last night before I sat down to watch AI with my bestie her brother did an analysis of my handwriting--don't scoff, it was actually quite accurate. According to the analysis I was intelligent and creative (duh!), but I also put up imaginary walls and barriers and I tended to quit when the going go tough. I agreed with the analysis, and my bestie's brother reminded me that just because I had the tendency to put up walls and quit when things got tough did not mean that I would be that way forever. I could change it if I wanted to. Today, the theory was put to the test. I won't go in to the gory details, but I was planning on going to Europe next spring and something happened today (not life or death stuff) that put my trip on the back burner (again). I got really angry and bitter immediately. I started to talk my self out of my first gym appointment, I wanted to eat, I want to buy a pack of cigarettes and smoke it--I wanted to wallow in my anger and whine about life's unfairness. I wanted to indulge my self pity and remind myself that it didn't matter how much I tried--I was never going to catch a break.

Then I had another thought--what if I didn't give in? What if I didn't skip the gym? What if I didn't decide to buy a pack of cigarettes and smoke? What would happen if I didn't indulge my childish self pity for once? So I didn't. I didn't give in, I didn't skip my gym appointment, I didn't buy cigarettes and while I still feel the sting putting Europe on the backburner I am not indulging my self pity--instead I am going on with my life. Yes, I am bummed, but I am not defeated. Maybe I am being tested to see if I can resist the urge to give up and maybe if I pass the test Europe will work out after all. Maybe Europe won't work out for next spring, but maybe I am meant to go at a different time. Maybe I'm just supposed to learn what it means to be an adult and a lady and accept the circumstances gracefully. I will say this. I don't like it, but I accept it, and I believe that God has a plan for me, and I have faith that while I may get angry and bitter at certain points that it will all be worth it in the end. So there. I am trying to stay positive. Ha Ha self defeat...

I really hope that Lil goes on AI tonight. There are some songs you just don't mess with and "The Rose" is one of them. I feel bad that the judges always hammer her, but last night I kind of agreed with them. I also hate that only two of them talked--I think that Paula should only be allowed to talk every other turn or two so that we can always hear what the other three coherent members have to say :)

Boys Before Flowers ended a few weeks ago--I'm sad. I keep watching episodes of it. Maybe when I am at the Cherry Blossom festival this weekend they'll be there. It's like an Asian festival and they're Asian so you know, it could happen. Of course it's a Japanese festival and they're Korean, but it could happen--at least in my mind.

Ah well, dear readers, off to dinner the parentals. Lets hope its good.

Harems...

Dictionary.com defines a harem as the following: The wives, concubines, female relatives, and servants occupying such a place.

Okay, so I am Catholic, and a woman, but today I decided that I need a harem. And a palace for my harem and myself. My harem would be composed of men. Wonderful, beautiful men that would be at my beck and call. The members of my harem that would live in my palace are as follows:

1. Lee Min-ho: You're pretty. I like you.
2. Kim HyunJoong: You're also pretty. You would have to sing to me when I demanded it. And you would have to translate your Korean songs to English so I could sing along to more than just the two lines of English. Bring your guitar.
3. Kim Bum: No singing. Your responsiblities would include things that cannot be discussed in polite company.
4. Anoop Desai: You're a cutie. I like cuteness sometimes, and you would complement the prettiness of the aforementioned members.
5. James Marsters: Bleach out your hair again, and be ready to sing "Rest In Peace" on demand. I don't want to hear any of your other crappy songs. You would share your responsibilities with Kim Bum.
6. Taye Diggs: Your wife, Idina Menzel, can visit you. She would have to stay in the harem portion of the palace while you were busy with me. We may be very busy, very often.
7. Juanes: Your wife can also visit. She can keep Idina company while we're busy. Again we will be busy very often. When I have had a crappy day you will immediately come to see me and sing "No Creo En El Jamas".
8. Robbie Williams: You're super hot. You must sing "Angels" when I demand it. You will be busy often, likely, repeatedly over a period of 24 hours.
9. Shemar Moore: You will wear your gun--and that's all. It does not matter what you are doing, a gun is the only "clothing" you are allowed.
10. Matthew Gray Gubler: Talk nerdy to me. I love it.

So this dear readers is my varied and multicultural harem. I now return to reality or maybe I'll take a nap and put reality off just a little longer :)

My favorite word...

I am an educated woman. I hold a degree from San Francisco State University in English Literature. My favorite word in the English language is fuck. There I said. I fully admit it. Hate me if you must.

I say my favorite word often, attaching many words to it such as: fucking bitch, fucking whore, fuck me!, fucking a!, and my personal favorite that I got from the movie "Heathers" Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. I utter my favorite word often over the progression of a day--many times in my head due to my job, however, when I don't have to hold it back, I don't. I like that so many people find the word so awful and offensive and that I feel rebellious and defiant everytime it rolls off my tongue or dashes through my muddled mind.

This brings me to a story involving my best friend, The Queen, and my nephew (her son). My bestie called me on Friday and told me that my adorable, wonderful and perfect nephew had gotten in trouble at school. I asked why and she informed me that he had been watching a fight at school and then called a teacher a fucking bitch. I had three thoughts when she told me this. The first was: "Holy shit, elementary kids get in to fights now?!?!?" The second was a feeling of guilt as my bestie and I are pretty free with our language around him. The third was, was the teacher indeed a bitch? If so, my nephew should be absolved of his crime and given a medal for honesty. Truth hurts ya fucking bitch. I was steamed that he had gotten in trouble so I told my friend that she needed to speak to this woman immediately. Post haste. No one punished my nephew for uttering the truth. If she thought fucking bitch was bad out of his mouth wait until she heard what I had to tell her. Whore. Turns out the witch never even heard my nephew say the dreaded, truthful words and that it was hearsay that my nephew admitted to. I still cried foul and demanded that I be able to attend a meeting with this woman. My bestie asked me what I would do if a student had called me a fucking bitch and I told her that it had already happened. She asked me what I did. I told her that I laughed said "duh" and kept on teaching. I'm like Glinda the Good Fucking Bitch. The woman that punished my nephew is the Fucking Bitch of the West that had the evil monkeys and died from a bucket of water. Needless to say, if I ever do become a parent I may have to change my opinion, but I doubt it.

I can remember another time that my bestie and I were out at Wal-Mart, The Redneck Disneyland, and our free use of the word fuck backfired on us. My beautiful nephew was barely learning how to talk at the time and I forgot what I told The Queen. Her response? Fuck you. Less than ten seconds later we hear my nephew gurgle out "uck ou". We tried to correct him, but we were too busy laughing. Even through the giggles we tried to correct him, but I don't think he took us seriously as evidenced by his alleged insult of the teacher last week.

So, will I ever stop using the word fuck? Um, no. Will I ever curb my use of it around my nephew? Probably not, because lets face it at this point he's already attaching other words to it so it is ingrained in his vocabulary. I do vow to teach him the correct uses of it as an adjective, verb, and whatever other part of speech it fits.

The bottom line: You can take the girls out of the ghetto, but never the ghetto out of the girls. Some people might find it appalling, but my bestie and I are who we are, whether we are out at the Redneck Disneyland, at our houses watching Idol, at the park at a birthday party or at any other event in our lives. And not to get mushy, but I love my bestie more than anything because around her I never have to pretend--she is my constant and she has been for 28 years. Besides the gift of friendship she has given me the gift of being a Godmother and an Aunt. Does it really matter if we say fuck a lot and pass it on to the boys? Okay, maybe it does, but fuck it ;)

Beware the Ides of March

Okay, so technically the ides of March is not until March 11th, but I think it decided to visit me early this year. No, I was not brutally stabbed by my friends while whispering "Et tu Brute?" as I crumpled to the floor of the Roman Senate, but hey it kind of felt like it. Where shall I start? Ah, yes, at the begining.

There was no new episode of BBF today. None. Zip. Zero. Zilch. We only get one new episode this week. EW. The reason? The lead actress was involved in a car accident and it delayed filming so the episode that was supposed to air tomorrow is not yet completed and therefore legions of fans will be seeing the episode that was supposed to air today, tomorrow. Remember, click it or ticket bitches. I feel horrible for the lead actress, I know how traumatizing car accidents are so I will wait (un) patiently for my two new episodes next week while she recovers. I knew in my gut that this foretold a Monday that would not be great.

Fast forward to this morning. I go through the drive through at Carls to get a breakfast sandwich and coffee. They guy at the window is moving about as quickly as a slug (did I mention I was running late?) and is schlepping around instead of giving me my food. As I drive out of the drive through and down the street to get in the stupid gate before it closes my leg feels as though it has been lit on fire in a small spot. Apparently the slug at the window had not put the correct lid on my coffee cup and I was now being scalded with very hot coffee. Great. I cuss at him while listening to the radio and proceed to illegally park at the back on the gravel and grab my stuff to go to my room. Then it happens. The lid slides off of my coffee even more and my hand and arm have now been scalded to match my leg. Hooray. The rest of the morning proceeds uneventfully until lunch.

I forgot to take my allergy and asthma meds and the weather was making it bad so on my prep I hop in to my car and head for home so that I can take them and stop feeling itchy and wheezy. I walk in to my house and I am greeted by a very happy puppy but a grandma who decides to lecture me and chew me out because the puppy dragged wood in and ground it in to the front rug. Yippee. I leave my house feeling irritated and proceed to Mickey D's to console myself. I order my hamburger with no onions because I hate them and a medium fry. As I am getting out of my car my bag tips over and my fries spill out on to the floor of my car. I was pissed. My fries were now completely unedible because my car is a disaster and the fries had been completely coated in dog hair, dust and a little bit of dirt. Gross. Instead of screaming I stomped to my classroom and waited for the bell to ring. As I opened up my burger to dig in I saw the aforementioned, loathed onions nestled happily on my hamburger bun. I scraped them off and ate my hamburger without any further incident.

Then came pre-AP. I have to give them some obligatory CAHSEE assignments and they were quite combative about it. They tried every argument they could think of to dissuade me, but I couldn't we have to do it. They grumbled and then grudingly wrote the practice essay. In the midst of it one of them asked how to spell CAHSEE. I decided to inform them that perhaps they did need the practice after all since they were not even capable of spelling the name of the test. I smiled and they silently cussed me out in their heads. Lovely.

Then came the drive home. I ended up behind every slow driving fuck wit imaginable. I still held in my scream and instead played angry Eminem songs, cussing along loudly to scare them as they looked in their rearview mirror. I think it may have worked as they sped up or got out of my way.

Now, I sit here, grandma is at home, I am in my pajamas and much calmer than I was during my Eminem tirade, but I still get only one new episode of BBF so there may be a tirade or two left in me yet.

Pimps, hoes, and sugardaddie.com

Last night as I loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up after a fun and delish Friday Night Dinner with my girls I took a break and did some channel surfing. Seriously, I should have just turned on my iPod and never turned the television on--I lost some of my faith in humanity in the short time I channel surfed.

First, I found an MSNBC special about the sex trade. It profiled the police department in Oakland, CA and what the task force does to cut down not only on prostitution, but also on helping the underaged prostitutes get away from their pimps. My stomach churned as I heard a story about a ten year old they had arrested with her thirteen year old mentor. I started to lose my dinner after they showed a seventeen year old with a giant contusion on her head she had received from "falling" i.e. her pimp kicked her ass. I couldn't stomach it after that and so I turned the channel determined to find something a little happier...

Then it happened. In the middle of looking for another channel to watch I ran across a commercial for a website entitled sugardaddie.com. It is a website that allows women and men (one of whom is allegedly "affluent") to find each other and "have adult fun". EW. It was like what I had just been watching about pimps and hoes only these men and women were not prostituting themselves for drugs or rent they were doing it for material possessions--the kind they sell at Bloomies and the Chanel boutique. I quickly turned off the television and turned my iPod on and resumed my clean up--disgusted with some of the people in the human race.

Now, don't get me wrong I love Bloomies and Chanel just as much as the next girl. It hurts that unlike most springs I am not the proud owner of a new pair of designer sunglasses or the Chanel spring line because I have a mortgage payment now, but I don't love those things more than myself or my pride and self-respect. What happened to earning what you have in life? The more I thought about it the more irritated I got.

I don't make a huge amount of money in my chosen profession, but it is enough to give myself a home and simple luxuries. I'll admit that I wince whenever I see all the stuff I can't afford anymore (Chanel makeup, Coach shoes, Coach purses, jewelry, expensive clothing, etc.), but then I get back to my house and I'm okay with it. The society that we live in is unfortunately not about being happy with what you have. It is about wanting more and getting it at all costs. I used to be like that and I still battle with that part of myself, but I am learning that it really is about being happy with what you've got and not what you don't have. I bet if some of the people (myself included) who live for material possessions would stop and take stock for a minute or two they would find that everything they truly need and truly want they very likely already have.

No, I don't have a Vuitton. I will probably never shop for clothes at Neiman Marcus. I will very likely never own a pair of Chanel shoes. But, I have my house, my family, my friends, and enough material crap from before that I don't really need anything. Everything I need is right here. That is a good thing.