Dear Grumbly Letters...

Dear Malls Across America,

You know those kiosks that sit in the centers of aisles that you must walk past to get to other stores? The ones that have extremely pushy salespeople that jump in your space to rub lotion on your arm, or flatten your hair or tie a skirt into a dress into a who the eff knows what else? Those people!

Really?

The anxiety level that rose in my BFF as we tried to strategically dodge one today by both sipping our Starbucks quickly...and MOCK talking into our cell phones. (I'm not sure, but I think mine was upside down...we were rushing.) weaving left

Crap, weave right when we saw him zone in on us.

Lordie, left again. Dear Hell, he's coming right at us.

Yes. This is what you have led us to.

Signed,

For Petes Sakes...REALLY!

******

Dear Stale Coffee,

You effing SUCK.

Signed,

Pissed off and tired.

******

Dear Celebrity that has a dark secret not known to the world,

Please come out of hiding so I can STOP listening/reading/watching about Tiger Woods. PUH-LEASE!

Signed,

A tired Tiger non follower.

P.S. Remember the stale coffee.

******

Dear Neighbor,

Can you kindly talk INSIDE your house to whomever you call on your cell phone,late at night? I really don't want to hear you speak of your rash, or your 'conquest', or you fat boss, or your...you get it?

Right?

Signed,

Rather listen to Sex in the City talk about their rash, conquest, fat boss, etc...

******

Dear Christmas Tree Seekers,

I got the last one at Target....SUCKA'S

Signed,

I know, not nice.

******

Dear Post Office at Christmas time,

Sigh.

My tired best,

*Sigh again*

******

Dear Douchebag driving like it's a Nascar Race Track at the Mall,

Slow.the.eff.down.

Signed,

Former Hall Monitor

******

I must remember....I am 34 and he is...3. (and other tidbits)

It's been about a month since my three year old has been in preschool.

It's been great.

I decided to go on my three year old's first field trip to a Children's Discovery Center. (Awesomely Awesome by the way).

I was paired with my kid and her little boyfriend. BLESS his heart. If every little boy could be like him....I know she'll marry a good man. Oh and I only 'lost' him 3 times. Don't tell.

(I also praise any adult that actually WANTS to take 75 children OUT of the preschool. Between the ages 2-4. I seriously bow my head down.)

BUT, (and there is always a but), I met HIM.

The absolute complete opposite of my daughter's adorable future husband. The one that MY husband fears my daughter will choose cause he's the bad ass. The rebel. The one us girls can't stay away from.

The KID that just screams at your insides and scratches his nails on your inner chalkboard of a soul.

That is mean...just to be mean.

Your 3?

How in the hell can you be such a little sh&t?

I mean poopyhead?

I mean...not nice.

(as I recited to my little one when she complained why was he mean to her)

I sorta noticed this little hellion her second week but thought nothing of it.

But after spending two hours with Satan's spawn, I had to keep reminding myself....I am 34 and he is 3. They are children. They will 'work' it out.

It became my mantra that day at the Children's Discovery Center.

Kids were everywhere, learning, sharing, not sharing, listening, not listening....and I silently thanked the blessed teachers who were probably praying for a flask of alcohol to get them through the day.

I kid.

Only cause we love Teacher Amazing & Teacher Awesome.


**************

I kept swatting at my legs this morning while waiting for my husband to let me back into the house after uh, locking myself out while walking the dog.

I looked down cause the 'flies' kept annoying me.

Oh.

I need to shave my legs.

Whoa...I REALLY need to shave my legs.

And my eyebrows if my BFF has anything to add to that. (right BFF?)

*************

Saskia over at Saskia's Spot takes the most amazing photos and she is absoTUTELY fantastic.

Thanks for the little holiday cheer that came my way!!

Go check her out! Tell her hello!

Anyone so refined and lovely that enjoys my antics has to be awesome :)

*************

My job never gets boring.

While leaving work the other night, around nightclub time, a co-worker and I watched, (and giggle-smirked), a girl pull up to the elevator thinking someone was going to valet her car, then get back in when the security guard was walking by saying she needed to PARK her car herself.

And THEN watched her slooowwwwlllly pull into....

.....a parked car, and not the empty spot next to it.

The poor security guard told her to back up...but halt heart attacked while I shrieked and ran like a frantic not so graceful paranoid person realizing my car was in her back up path of destruction ..

"Whoa...let me move my car, before crazy drunk chic backs up real slooowwwlllly into it".

So the guard put/sacrificed his body by positioning himself between my car and hers to let me save my chariot from sure stupidity of drunk girl driving.

All while her semi drunk friends all slurred to her...

"BUMMERRRRRRRR"

Who lets these people drive?

****************

I'm sorry I haven't been around. I always get stressed out around this time.

I wrote about it last year so I'll just link you there. It's not my normal funny so don't go without tissue.

**************

Happy Holidays Bloggy Peeps.

Happy Holidays!

So a woman walks into a house.....

I will tell you a short story about a woman and her husband.

Its Thanksgiving Day, as this woman and her husband depart for festivities at a family friends home that she hadn't been to in a while. The woman loves to bake and has made sure to pack her customary Pumpkin Pie.

They park their car, they make their way into the home.

Hello here, Hello there....lots of people they didn't recognize....I'll just go into the kitchen and put my pie down and prepare it for serving later on thinks the woman....say hello to more people in the kitchen...say how she loves what they've done with the place....

The husband is in the living room making friends, introducing himself as Baker Woman's husband....he notices that his sister in law and their family is not in attendance yet. The husband mentions to someone that he is SISTER in Law's brother in Law (are you following me?).

Looks of confusion happen.

Them: "(Insert Sister In Laws Name)???"

Them again: "Whose house are you going to?"

The husband: "(Insert Thanksgiving Hosts' Name)?"

Them: (giggle.giggle) "They live NEXT DOOR!"

The husband calls to his wife in the kitchen: "Honey...we are at the wrong house!"

Baker's Wife realizes their mistake...packs up her pie, wishes them all a good Thanksgiving and leaves.

**************

This is a true story.

The people...are my parents.

Yes. My mother and Stepfather.

Sigh.

I would have given a zillion bucks to be at our family friends house when they walked in and heard the story then.

The neighbors were actually good friends of the house my parents were going to so they were very nice about them coming in and making themselves at home.

I cried hearing about it from my favorite family gossip (aka...my sister cousin from another mother) the next day...and again when repeating it to my husband...and again just typing this story.

And if my two REAL sisters would pick up the phone so I can continue our little coconut wireless gossip line I will probably pee my pants.

And how was YOUR Thanksgiving?

*************

Oh and a special shout out to my husband as he celebrates another year of life on this planet. 34 baby. Now I'm not the old lady anymore....well I'm YOUR old lady...you know what I mean.

Heart You.

Knock Knock...Paranoia here...(again)

Okay...so for some reason I posted this Monday but it didn't 'show' up in anyone's reader and as I need gratification from you all I 'reposted' a repost...I'm pathetic...I know.

*************

I originally posted this a year ago....when only family members read this blog. (tear, now I can barely get them to remember my blog title....oh, the horror)

And as I don't have any creativity to breathe new life into a post...I thought I'd pull one from the back of the blog bookcase.

Bloggy people...Meet Me, Me meet bloggy people.

Enjoy.
**********************

"The Scream" artwork by Hugh MacLeod

One of my most UN-favorite character flaws is that I am secretly (I guess not so secret now) paranoid of everything.

Some see it as being over protective.

Some say it's not being educated properly about the subject.

Others tell me I'm an OVER worrier.

And some tell me to pull my big girl panties on and snap out of it.

No, I'm serious. I'm a closet Paranoidee...is that a word?

I think since I've become a mother, my Paranoid spidey senses have picked it up a notch to a higher level of insaneness.

I can't stand it sometimes but the feeling sneaks up and I can't shake it until I get to my final destination/or completion of what I'm doing.

My kid was born and I realized for the first time in my life it's not just about me. In fact, it's mostly all about her. And it freaked me out.

My greatest fear is not being around for her because of a mistake of either my doing or someone moron who's being ridiculously reckless. Not the dying part, the part of her not having a mother does a number on my insides. (OK, well a little about the dying part).

I dive into that fear pretty deep and it's hard to swim out sometimes.

When we left the hospital with her, I remember annoying the bee-jeezus out of my husband. First her car seat straps were on too tight, than too loose, I don't think the seat is secure enough, than the car that was on the level below us was coming too fast (like, faster than the snail too fast!), than why don't we just take the long, NON highway home route?, OK OK, I'll shut up. Or more like we both just stopped answering each other.

That's when it began. I was a little too literal when my pediatrician told me to be careful the first month in taking baby out. I mean I walked with her and the dog around our townhouse complex.......until I slipped one day and convinced myself I made her lose some brain cells, despite the doctors stamp of approval (???) that she was fine along with the nurse and the other nurse and the other doctors partner.

I'm a very slow driver.

I think cars drive to fast, I think my husband drives too fast, everyone on the freeway feels like they are first time drivers that just got out of NASCAR. Don't they all realize I carry precious cargo? Does it not phase them?

I'm the paranoid delusional that thinks the red car in the far left lane 10 cars behind is driving 4 miles OVER the speed limit and will cause a 15 car pile up involving myself.

IT NEVER STOPS!!!

This is my life inside. I don't share it with others because they'll think I need to put on a jacket or something with mental restraints. I constantly have arguments with myself. There's the laid back me and the freaked out version of me trying to rationalize why each other is right.

Like the time I told myself I could do the ocean.

I can't, maybe my toes are okay, maybe if it's a good day I'll go to my waist, wait...was that a shadow in the water...do sharks come this close to shore? I start to go through the Rolodex of clippings in my memory newspaper and pull out random shark sightings and convince myself it's from that morning I'm suuuurrreee they are still here. I will be that stupid lady swimming alone in the water not hearing the lifeguard scream to get out.

I mean, did you watch Shark Week on Discovery Channel??? Duh!

Whew, this has been somewhat therapeutic for me....a little flake has been chipped off this statue of fear. Maybe I'll stop now before some that know me start dialing the 1-800-Help-my-friend line.

**************

Sigh...it's rough being a paranoid me.

***I ran across this mans blog with his artwork and really enjoyed it. I liked that he said he was cool with allowing others to download his work as it was a great way for others to see what he does. Some will like it, some will say WHAT?, but if you do, hope you check out his site. www.gapingvoid.com.***

knock, knock. Who's there....Paranoia here! (Yes, this is a repeat...don't hate)

I originally posted this a year ago....when only family members read this blog. (tear, now I can barely get them to remember my blog title....oh, the horror)

And as I don't have any creativity to breathe new life into a post...I thought I'd pull one from the back of the blog bookcase.

Bloggy people...Meet Me, Me meet bloggy people.

Enjoy.
**********************

"The Scream" artwork by Hugh MacLeod

One of my most UN-favorite character flaws is that I am secretly (I guess not so secret now) paranoid of everything.

Some see it as being over protective.

Some say it's not being educated properly about the subject.

Others tell me I'm an OVER worrier.

And some tell me to pull my big girl panties on and snap out of it.

No, I'm serious. I'm a closet Paranoidee...is that a word?

I think since I've become a mother, my Paranoid spidey senses have picked it up a notch to a higher level of insaneness.

I can't stand it sometimes but the feeling sneaks up and I can't shake it until I get to my final destination/or completion of what I'm doing.

My kid was born and I realized for the first time in my life it's not just about me. In fact, it's mostly all about her. And it freaked me out.

My greatest fear is not being around for her because of a mistake of either my doing or someone moron who's being ridiculously reckless. Not the dying part, the part of her not having a mother does a number on my insides. (OK, well a little about the dying part).

I dive into that fear pretty deep and it's hard to swim out sometimes.

When we left the hospital with her, I remember annoying the bee-jeezus out of my husband. First her car seat straps were on too tight, than too loose, I don't think the seat is secure enough, than the car that was on the level below us was coming too fast (like, faster than the snail too fast!), than why don't we just take the long, NON highway home route?, OK OK, I'll shut up. Or more like we both just stopped answering each other.

That's when it began. I was a little too literal when my pediatrician told me to be careful the first month in taking baby out. I mean I walked with her and the dog around our townhouse complex.......until I slipped one day and convinced myself I made her lose some brain cells, despite the doctors stamp of approval (???) that she was fine along with the nurse and the other nurse and the other doctors partner.

I'm a very slow driver.

I think cars drive to fast, I think my husband drives too fast, everyone on the freeway feels like they are first time drivers that just got out of NASCAR. Don't they all realize I carry precious cargo? Does it not phase them?

I'm the paranoid delusional that thinks the red car in the far left lane 10 cars behind is driving 4 miles OVER the speed limit and will cause a 15 car pile up involving myself.

IT NEVER STOPS!!!

This is my life inside. I don't share it with others because they'll think I need to put on a jacket or something with mental restraints. I constantly have arguments with myself. There's the laid back me and the freaked out version of me trying to rationalize why each other is right.

Like the time I told myself I could do the ocean.

I can't, maybe my toes are okay, maybe if it's a good day I'll go to my waist, wait...was that a shadow in the water...do sharks come this close to shore? I start to go through the Rolodex of clippings in my memory newspaper and pull out random shark sightings and convince myself it's from that morning I'm suuuurrreee they are still here. I will be that stupid lady swimming alone in the water not hearing the lifeguard scream to get out.

I mean, did you watch Shark Week on Discovery Channel??? Duh!

Whew, this has been somewhat therapeutic for me....a little flake has been chipped off this statue of fear. Maybe I'll stop now before some that know me start dialing the 1-800-Help-my-friend line.

**************

Sigh...it's rough being a paranoid me.

***I ran across this mans blog with his artwork and really enjoyed it. I liked that he said he was cool with allowing others to download his work as it was a great way for others to see what he does. Some will like it, some will say WHAT?, but if you do, hope you check out his site. www.gapingvoid.com.***

I swear I don't make this stuff up...

Some of you know I run a restaurant in Waikiki.

Sometimes, this brings forth interesting tales that make it to this blog.

This is one of them.

I cannot tell you how many times I've had to pick up the work phone to listen to some person who I think is a potential guest turn into crazy #1234 of the year that I get to encounter.

One particular lady has been dialing our number and insisting she was a Sargent for the police (of loony land), and that the FBI raided our restaurant the night before but she had been interviewed in a dark room with a spotlight and told them that all was right with the world...with our place. She was insanely and crazily believable...if you were not the owner of a sound mind in tact.

WHATEVER.

Well, tonight...I had the PLEASURE of meeting her. While talking with my host staff outside, she decided to grace us with her presence. She looked normal....until she opened her mouth.

This is exactly how our conversation went.

Crazy lady: Did the FBI show up last night? I'm Sargent Whocares and you probably know who I am...I'm very important...I know all the right people.

Me (brain clicking...thinking NO WAY it's Crazy FBI lady in the flesh): I didn't work last night.

Crazy lady: They told me I could get my free meal.

Me: Oh, well that was yesterday.

Crazy lady: Yesterday? You sure? Didn't they tell you about me?

Me: Maybe you missed the memo?

Crazy lady: But you know about the FBI right? They still inside?

Me: Nope. They left, top secret stuff, I guess.

Crazy lady sighs, nods her head at me like she knows what kind of top secret mission is going on without her and takes off with another crazy person who also looks really normal.

~~~~~~~

Sigh.

It's fun pretending to be crazy with real crazy people.

When I mean fun, I don't mean MEAN fun...just playing along with the fantasy that they believe.

No harm, no foul.

Just another night at the Ramblers place of work.

Love Life....

IPhone App picture from my Boyphone...

I will love life in the following ways this week...

1. I will enjoy my new found little moments of 'alone' time as my child is in preschool.

2. I will sit on my couch and watch an entire show without being interrupted in the DAYTIME.

3. I will take a shower for a really long time and maybe shampoo my hair twice? Maybe three times...who knows...but it can be as many times as I want.

4. My long lost flatiron that turns my hair from crazy curly to sleeky straight will find my hands its company as we make magic.....to my hair. Just in case, cause that almost didn't sound right.

5. I will take a nap! When I feel like it. Or until I have to get ready for work. Whichever comes first.

6. Sigh. I will...love life.

How will you LOVE LIFE this week bloggy pals?

Do tell.


*************

Alright, alright....so did I? Or didn't I freak out like a crazy emotional wreck of a train on my kid's first day of preschool?

So yeah, here's the deal....I was a tad roller coaster-y of feelings when we pulled into the school parking lot.

And maybe I stopped talking in the middle of my sentence to the teacher when I thought my tear ducts where going to spew forward completely ridiculous tears in front of 9 other children who were excited to welcome my daughter into their new gang of little people.

And maybe I just smiled and waved and walked out quickly to the car....with my shades on.

And maybe I sniffled at Starbucks right next door to the school (BONUS).

But...I let em wail once I hit the open road for a good 10 minutes. Like a complete lunatic.

I'm not sure what other drivers on the freeway were thinking as they passed/sped along.

I really couldn't see through the tears.

Joke.