(Use your best Monica Geller voice:)
I know!
But I have a really good reason for my lack of um......., blogosphere participation. I went back to work full time after having been part time for 7 1/2 years. Long story short: the timing was right and I was ready.
(Which is a smarter way of saying: Frankly, I was bored out of my gourd. I was spending far too much time surfing the net; emailing KB; texting KB and just generally pissing the day away and having nothing to show for it, except for my occasional post.)
The Monsters were not happy.
I bribed them with Ex-Wife Banana Bread. The only contribution to our family that was worth a damn from my brother's (EX) wife!
Lynda thought she was happy for me.....until my failure to promptly respond to her emails drove her to send me the following email at work: I'm with your kids. You working full time SUCKS! PAY ATTENTION TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
KB was super excited for me until my work began to immediately interfere with my blog. She's consoling herself with a trip to Phoenix. And Nordstrom's.
Tk is about the only one who was FIRED UP about my return to work. I believe her exact words were: Those whiners can SUCK IT! I get you 5 days a week, Baby!
(It's good to be loved.....)
So.
I have next to no spare time and an incredible amount of random thoughts swimming in my head. So rather than taking the 2-3 hrs it usually takes me to post something, I'm just going to wing it and hit you with my musings. Freestyle, yo.
Here's what I know:
1. The Snarky Brunette is tired.
Which, coincidentally, makes her not only snarky but cranky (read: bitchy!). In short, full time work is kicking my ass. I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm sharing. And in the spirit of sharing, let me share this: The next asshole that asks me "You regretting your decision to come back full time"? and then follows it up with " You look tired.", is gonna get haymakered. From way down low!
2. Mark & I have committed to coaching our Monsters' baseball team again. We had to fill out applications and a form consenting to a back ground check. The later form asked: What special skills and/or hobbies did I have.
Is it just me or does that type question scream STUPID? Without thinking I immediately typed: Pole Dancer- pending certification. I laughed myself into an asthma attack and then deleted it. But not before printing it and posting it on the bulletin board in my office.
3. I spent 3 hours in my rose garden this weekend. It was pure heaven. Tending to roses is a Type A's dream. The act of pruning is precise. Each snip made after careful thought and examination of each rose stem. It's methodical and when you've finished the task at hand, everything is neat and orderly.
Did I mention I scratch the shit out of my hands every single time I tend my roses? It's awful. Not only am I a bloody mess when I'm done, but I will inevitably have at least 3 thorns embedded in my hands. When I hauled myself inside and showed Mark my wounds, he sighed heavily and shook his head. I handed him the needle and disinfectant and he began his work as Thorn-y McSliver Master. The first one came out with ease; the second one- not so much. After about my third squeal at the needle's prick, Mark said: Sister, I don't know how you manage to do this every time you work with your roses......you need better gloves. To which I replied: I don't wear gloves. It interferes with my work...... it's very Zen, Marky....I have to feel my way.
Mark's response: Well.......you're kind of a dumb ass.
4. I have a friend at work......who shall remain nameless (LEAH!), who puts her mascara on at work every morning. I've yet to inquire why she doesn't perform this beauty ritual at home- mostly because I'm fascinated by the fact that she "warms" her mascara up prior to brushing it on her lashes. How does one "warm" their mascara, you ask? By placing it inside her bra, close to her under arm. And she's positively unabashed by her actions. The first time she whipped her mascara tube into her bra, I was utterly confused. And I believe I said: Leah? What the hell was that? But then she explained her reasoning: See, if you warm your mascara, it goes on easier and you have minimized the clumps. It's GENIUS, really. Cuz only a Ho has clump-y eyes!
I decided to try her theory out on my brand new liquid eyeliner that goes on in a less than satisfactory manner. It totally works! So now, every morning, as I am diffusing my Big Wig (I don't really wear a wig....it's just that since my son was born, my stick-straight hair went all wavy on my ass and after a year of fighting it I just gave up and layered the shit out of it and now I have a head full of massive curls. And because I have to nickname everything, my hair became known as my Big Wig. Seriously, the higher my hair, the more motivated I become!), I slip my eyeliner tube under my arm. By the time I'm ready to line my almond eyes, the liner glides on like butter.
Lo Lo, you are ahead of your time!
5. My Mother left me a voicemail tonight. In order to truly hear the following, please imagine the voice of Fran Drescher, peppered with uncontrollable giggles:
Hiiiiiiiiiiii! It's your Motherrrrrrrrrr (giggling)......I just wanted you to know that I'm on my way home. FROM THE LIQUOR STORE (giggling)! I have wine AND vodka (giggling) AND I found a Mudslide mixer (more {possibly insane} giggling!)!!!!!!! I don't even know where to begin! You should be here (more giggling)........love ya!
I returned her call once I got home. She answered her cell with: (giggling) Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii there!
My greeting: Hello, Drunk! Glad to know I raised you right!
6. My conversation with my Mother was followed by a text from KB. Before I tell you the text, let me set the scene. She's dining with Big Daddy (that's my nickname for her husband. On account of the fact that when I stand next to him I feel I am reduced to a midget. And he banks serious coin. And he's quite possibly the most generous soul I've ever met in my life. And he loves his wife. And spoils her (fkn) rotten. Big Daddy. He wears it well and is one of a kind.) at the swanky Gentleman's Club in BoHo. She took me there the last time I flew out for a visit. We all wore black & white. And so did everyone else. Swankity, swank swank.
KB: Wearing hot pink at The Club. I'm the only one not wearing black or white......did I mention my pink is full of gold zippers?
My reply: You can take the girl outta Trashville, but you can't take the trash outta the girl!
An hour later I received this: Wine is my poison tonight.....can't drive home. But I was fully complimented on my hot pink in the ladies room!
Poor dear....do I tell her that chick was most likely just as drunk as she was?
7. The Oscars were last Sunday. I love the Oscars. And I have a strict, "you're attending the Oscars, for Gods sake, you should know better than to wear that!" policy. I'm incredibly harsh on those that walk the Red Carpet and frankly, I should have my own show as my running commentary would be far more entertaining than the drivel we're forced to listen to courtesy of Ryan Seacrest, Carrie Ann Inaba & Joan "you should be dead by now" Rivers! A few thoughts:
(a) Kathy Ireland was a commentator this year for ABC. Let's hope it's her last. Sister may have been a #1 Sports Illustrated Model in her time....but her time is UP. She is positively gorgeous to look at, but the minute she opened her mouth I found myself shrieking at the TV: MAKE IT SHUT UP! And I believe I turned to Mark and said in disgust: She gives brunette's everywhere a bad name!
Remember Haley Joel Osment (before he lost himself in a bottle of booze and wrecked his Saturn station wagon on a California highway) in The Sixth Sense? The whispered phrase that made him famous: I see dead people.
That was me. Watching the Oscars and listening to Kathy Ireland. Only I was whispering: I see dumb people.
(b) Cameron Diaz won my vote for Most Improved. I'm not sure if she fired her stylist or started listening to her a stylist, but what a difference a year makes! She was positively gorgeous with her 40's inspired hair; perfect red lips and Oscar de la Renta gown.
(c) In a tie for "Sweet Jesus, that dress is hideous", the awards go to Rachel McAdams (who also loses big time for dying her brunette tresses blonde!) and Charlize Theron. Rachel showed up in a gown that looked like that hideous trend from the 80's- swirl-y painted wallpaper; while Charlize chose to (shamefully) walk the Red Carpet in a lavender dress that, by itself might have received a passing grade, but failed miserably with the Cinnabun numbers adorning her boobs. Fashion Citations would have been issued if I was there........
(d) I have one word for George Clooney: haircut.
(Get one!)
(e) Only Robert Downey, Jr. can take the stage wearing leather suede sneakers & a tux and LOOK GOOD.
(And by good, I mean Yummo!)
(f) And finally, my pick for Most Stunning Beauty of the evening goes to a blonde ( I know, right?! But seriously, she's brilliant. In beauty and grace, and intelligence. Simply put- I love her!): Kate Winslet.
Behold:
Tresses: Old School sophiscation. Can you say: Veronica Lake?
Make up: Perfection. It's barely there, and yet enhances all her beautiful features.
Skin: Flawless.
(I'd call her a Bitch if I didn't love her so much!)
Jewels: $2.5 milllion from Tiffany & Co.
(KB- you've got some catchin' up to do, Girlfriend!)
Gown: YSL. The champagne color whispers Demure. The fact that it's a two piece with a bustier- screams Naughty. Put the two together and I'm pretty sure any man with a brain would agree that's his Dream Girl.
Everyone else paled in comparison.
(Read: Suck it, Bitches!)
8. It's Friday. And after a week of eating sensibly, walking 30 minutes at lunch and depriving myself of vodka, I may have fallen off my Must Lose Weight, Fatty regime. You decide:
Taco Bell & 3 martinis.
Yeah, you're right. Definitely fallen off........like, way off. But don't judge. The two actually compliment one another nicely.
Or maybe that's just the vodka talking......?
9. St. Patrick's Day is next week. Remember how I said (read: screamed!) that Valentine's Day was the dumbest holiday ever? Well, St. Patrick's Day would be the best. First, because I'm Irish (when I'm not pretending to be British or Italian!)and second, because any holiday that promotes drinking, and requires the pinching of people (read: dumb asses) who don't conform to The Rule of wearing Traditional Irish Green; and is filled with loud mouthed, snarky folk who insist on singing songs no one knows the words to, to the tune of OFF KEY & TONE DEAF is a holiday The Snarky Brunette can get on board with!
Erin Go Bragh!
And finally, I end with this: I just checked my Blogger Profile. 120 Hits....... OMG!
Oh. My. Freakin. GOD!
AND. I just Googled myself. The Snarky Brunette holds the #1 & #2 position.
(Insert screaming here!)
I'm so excited!! Which, of course, means I'm doing the Katherine Heigl dance!! And because it's Friday and I simply cannot "do" a Friday without a cocktail in my hand (or three!), I just spilled my Cherry Kamikaze Martini everywhere!
I can hear three voices in my head: KB, Tk & Lo Lo and they are all saying to me in unison:
Bitch! Drink it. Don't spill it. You know we don't waste that shit!
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