Archive | July 2012

The Joys of Travel, Superficial Style

God, I hate flying. In addition to the general fear of flying, it’s the Goat Rodeo that accompanies it. It’s lines, and waiting, more lines, and “where is your paperwork”, and take off your shoes and shuffle thru this new line… To make it all better *rolls eyes*, we’re on a Toddler and Baby flight to LA. So many sqeaky and squawky kids. Directly behind me is a 7 month old baby who requires nonstop bouncing…and naturally, he shit his diaper before we even took off. Can’t change him til we’re in the air. Fabulous. His brother is being spoken to in that nauseating singsong parent voice. “Okay, buddy, let’s find the giraffe in the picture! Very good! You are so smart!!” Kill. Me. Now.

Had our usual clusterfuck departing the house – shouts of “COW! Where’s the …?!” and “MOM!! Did you remember to pack my…?” and me shouting at all of them “STFU NOW!!!” … Checked in easily. Selfish and stubborn Sarcasmo refused to share a bag with 10. “OMG his stuff is all disgusting!” Yes, his clean and folded clothing is quite gross. *rolls eyes* They were asked to share a bag bc there’s a $25 charge per bag, each way. Not. Frugal. He’s opted to use a carry on. And now the rest of us have to deal with his overflow. But, the Frug can put $50 in the “Cost Savings” chart. (Yes, we have one of those…doesn’t everyone? *rolls eyes*)

Perhaps Sarcasmo is prescient. As we sat on the tarmac, the captain came on the loudspeaker to let us know there was a problem with the TSA bag screening. 55 bags that were checked will NOT be on this flight. FIFTY-FIVE!! If there are 147 people on board, the odds aren’t terrific for our bags…especially given our track record! Does everyone recall our 4 days sans bags in Italy last year? Scarred for life. Family Fun Time with the Superficials is NOT for sissies.

At this point, I don’t GAF. We’ll be in LA, not Timbuktu. And, for me, shopping for new clothes would NOT be a hardship. *grins*

UPDATE

One bag lost. MINE. FML.

Sent from my iPad

The Sparkly Elephant in the Room

Helluva a week for me, personally and as a Twihard. This week was supposed to be devoted to GSD and overdue personal grooming. Instead I was glued to my computer screen, mouth agape, watching Robert and Kristen’s relationship explode. It didn’t implode…that’s neat and easy…this was/is a shitstorm. I seriously could not stop watching.

Have you seen the escandalo?? UsWeekly announced on Tuesday that Kristen cheated on Rob and there were photos. Twitter was transfixed…lots of denial…cries of “It’s photoshop!!” As the night went on, it became clear that it was true! O. M. G. I still cannot believe it. Who in their right mind cheats on ROBERT PATTINSON??? And in broad daylight?? Honestly. It seems like she wanted to get caught. Sigh. Then the fallout started…fan sites dedicated to Kristen have been taken down. Women who were her “biggest fans” jumped ship and boarded the “she’s a filthy whore” train. Fascinating to watch. People were writing essays dedicated to how Kristen had “betrayed us all” and “I refuse to go see Breaking Dawn 2″…chill out, fandom. Jeez.

For me, after the initial “WTF??!!!”, I started to think of what being 22 is like. And what I was doing when I was 22. And thanking God that a) I wasn’t famous b) there was no social media back then and, most importsnly, c) no camera phones!!

Now, the person she chose to ruin her personal life with? A much older married man with 2 small children…and he was her director on Snow White and the Huntsman. Her boss. What was she thinking!?!? I can see the fascination for an older man, especially when you’re 22. I’m hearing that he actively pursued her. Probably made her feel beautiful and smart and “special”…that kind of attention can be very heady.

Big risks though. The dude (whom I blame so so much) has risked his marriage and his family. WTF?? Kristen risked her relationship with Rob, her fan base, and her career. Lainey Gossip said something profound…Kristen’s become a cliche. The leading lady who sleeps with her director. Slutty starlet. Sigh. She put herself out there as a serious actress dedicated to her “craft” and oh-so-different from the Jessica Simpsons and Lindsay Lohans….Guess not.

Now, Rob. *swoons* He’s a major heartthrob. Certainly the object of some of my fantasies and on many people’s “Freebie List.” But she’s been with him for 4 years. They live together. I’m sure he’s a typical gross man who farts and snores and take massive dumps and sits on the couch scratching his balls. That can get old. And she’s 22. Maybe she was thinking it was time for some excitement?? He’s also been vocal about wanting to get married and be a young dad. She’s 22…maybe it was scaring the heck out of her. Maybe she wanted to slow things down, or even bail. And being 22, and a flaky actress type, and most likely emotionally immature, she couldn’t just tell him. Maybe she chose to napalm it, rather than have a tough adult conversation. (side note, at 22, I would never, ever, have had a thought adult convo like that. I would simply have ignored his calls. Forever.)

And then the pix came out and she’s like “holy shit!” And Rob moved out. And she issues an emotionally worded apology: “I love him, I love him, I’m so sorry”…Ooookkkkaaaayyy. Sometimes we do stupid things that seem fine in the moment…and then the next day you’re like “oh shit”… And really, nothing says “I love you” like photos of you grinding your ass into some dude’s crotch and making out like in a parked car. SMH.

And her “oh shit” moment is playing out for the WORLD to see. And judge. I mean, Rob’s parents have seen the pictures. His friends have seen them. And they’re pretty damning. (and yet weird and awkward too)

So, what happens next!? I was flying out to LA to comfort Rob (see the aforementioned Freebie List) but apparently he’s hopped a plane home to London. *curses* Kristen is somewhere in LA, getting death threats from Rob fans. (get a grip, people!!) Will he forgive her? Will they end up together?? Who knows? I’d imagine moving on from this will be hard because the freaking WORLD knows what she did. We shall see.

I’m not condoning what she did. It was beyond stupid and cruel. But, there’s a part of me who remembers her 22 year old self. Immature, selfish, crappy self-esteem…terrified of being a “grown up”…and yet also concerned about being a spinster and dying alone with my 14 cats.

Watched this all week rather than pack. Train wrecks are fascinating. Have to remember these are real people, not the gods that we’ve built them up to be.

Sent from my iPad

The Myth of “Sleeping In”

*sighs*

I loooovvvveeee sleep. I truly do. I used to sleep 12+ hours a night. *sings* Those were the days!

Now, on Saturday mornings, I am occasionally “allowed” to “sleep in”…harrumph. Today was a “sleep in” day. The Frug was up at 6:45am, as always. Coughing and hacking and spitting in the bathroom, various and horrifying bodily functions, stomping around the room, opening the blinds, making the bed with me still in it. Really. He then goes to the kitchen, apparently just to bang pots and pans and hurl glasses into the stainless steel sink. He is joined by 10, who bounced out of bed at 8am, singing, talking to himself, stomping around the house. *sighs*

I can hear the two of them chatting in their perky morning speak: “How’d you sleep, buddy?” “Hey Dad! Did you know that Oreck blah blah blah” On and on… After more banging and pointless chirpy conversation, 10 proceeds to put the TV on…to watch infomercials on HSN or QVC at 88 level volume. “DAD!!  You have to see this!!” *sighs* I then put a pillow over my head to attempt to drown out their selfish noisiness.

The pillow over the head guarantees that I will limit my breathing and then get a sinus headache. *sighs* FML.

Fiona knows I’m trying to sleep in so she goes into Needy Kitty mode. Head butting, kneading me with her overly long and sharp claws, loudly purring and meowing…escape is futile.

As we all know, Saturday is Bill Paying Day. My sleep in is interrupted by shouts of “COW! Did you remember to deposit that check?” Gee, since I’m currently dreaming I’m in Saint Tropez with Robert Pattinson…no, I don’t remember that. “COW?!?!” Stomping up the stairs to ask me financial questions.

Sigh.

It’s 9:23am and the “sleep in” *scoffs* is over.  He’d better not ask me how I slept or if I enjoyed sleeping in today. *growls*

What The Hell Else Are You Supposed To Do In A Porn Theater?

 

I love Fred Willard. He’s awesome! He was caught pulling (hehe) a Pee Wee Herman last night. Honestly though, it’s a porno theater…what do they think people are in there doing???

Saw this on Twitter from Albert Brooks —

I love Fred Willard. He’s a great guy. For his birthday I’m getting him a den and a computer.

LMAO

What The Hell Else Are You Supposed To Do In A Porn Theater?.

A Midsummer Night’s Rant

I hate to voice this. Really. It seems sacrilegious. But, here goes…I’m over summer. Crabby. Irritable. Tired of my summer clothes (not that I had any new ones! *glares at the Frug*), am already way too tan (despite my liberal use of SPF 50), my hair is straw, the heat and the humidity and too much Family Fun Time is making me stabby…need I go on?

Actually, I’m not over “summer” per se…I think I’m just over the pool. I am beyond done with the pool. There’s about a 3 day window when going to our pool is enjoyable. The water has reached not-quite-bathwater temperature and the outside air is lower than 98 degrees. And many people are on vacation so the pool isn’t too crowded. Needless to say, that window of time is OVAH.  Going to our pool just makes me angry…(taking a moment to acknowledge that I am a lucky girl who gets to have a pool to go to on 100 degree days)

Gripes (in no particular order):

Children at the pool.  They have no personal boundaries. They scream. They jump into the water on top of others. They insist on flinging those little water bomb thingys across the pool without regard to the safety of others (meaning ME ME ME)…Trolls.  And their hygiene issues. I have seen kids blow their noses into their hands and then wash it off in to the water!  *shrieks*  And they swallow pool water and then cough and gag and vomit it up. Disgusting!  And the babies?? Don’t get me started on how foul babies are. Sitting in their adorable baby swimsuits, shitting willy nilly into their useless swim diapers. *gags* I seriously do not get into the water if I see a tiny baby getting it’s disgusting poopy bottom swished into the pool. I look at it and think E. Coli. Yes, I am a remorseless bitch.

Other Parents. Unobservant assholes. Really. Do you not notice that your child is being f*cking annoying? I am hyper vigilant about my kids and their annoyance factor. I will drag them away from people. Literally. I do a “coat hook” motion and haul 10 away. (Sarcasmo is currently in Uber-Sullen-Teen mode and therefore is only bugging the bejesus out of ME)  Watch your kids! If Junior is holding his little wiener and doing the potty dance, get him out of the pool. It is NOT OKAY to pee in the pool, dammit. And if he’s grabbing at his butt?  RACE to the bathroom!  (see Contamination)

Shoes. Why do people get to the pool deck and kick their shoes off and GO. Um, guess what? Other people do NOT appreciate the mine field o’shoes. Jerks. This is NOT your personal pool. It belongs to hundreds of other members. Keep your crap to yourself. *growls*

Snack Time.  Every 45 minutes. Really?? Why do we need to have “break time” every 45 minutes??  It’s just to drive up sales at the )(&$%$+$ snack bar!  I hear the whistle blow and within 10 seconds, I have a little hand in my face looking for money. *growls*

Contamination. I have a love/hate with this. I love getting an email from the pool manager saying “The pool is closed due to contamination“…am I the only one who wants to know “what kind of contaminant??”  Did someone barf in the pool?  Or did they take a dump??? I just envision Caddyshack’s Baby Ruth in the pool scene and giggle.

Lifeguards and their Convenient Hearing.  I find it very interesting that a lifeguard can “hear” thunder and close the pool at 5pm on a Friday. When there are no storms in the area. Hmm.

Misc. Peeves:

  • My lounge chair is not a repository for your backpack, your bike helmet, etc. *side eyes the Frug* It is for ME to LOUNGE in. Hence the name Lounge Chair.
  • My pool bag is NOT a trash can. I do not want your old magazines, your candy bar wrappers, empty sunscreen bottles, etc. in my pool bag. FIND A TRASH CAN.
  • Why is alcohol not served there? Hmm? It would make many of my issues go away. Well, the pool related ones 😉 I guess they’d have to double the lifeguards if the parents were drinking…
  • Why is the pool deck so damn HOT? Surely there’s a material that can be used around a pool that isn’t fry-an-egg hot in the summer…
  • Why can’t I deal with the sun and heat like I used to??  Back in the day, I would lay out in the sun aaaallllll day. Scorching sun. Now I can handle about 1 hour huddled under an umbrella. The heat used to feel so good. Now I just feel like I can’t breathe and about to keel over. *sighs*

Anyway, rant over. It’s 8:30pm here and it’s still 95 degrees. No walk for Otis b/c the air is so hot and thick and the hot asphalt would harm his delicate paws. (no, really!)  I’m still in my bathing suit and coverup (well, bottom off b/c wet bottoms lead to the yeasties! lol and not kidding)  Anyway. Remind me of this hideous hot hot hot summer in January when I’m writing a Midwinter’s Night’s Rant.

Sunscreen Funscreen

Not to be too Seinfeldian BUT what the heck is UP with sunscreen now? What happened to the simple Coppertone lotion?? I fondly remember their classic brown bottles with the scent of pure summer inside. *sighs*

Here’s the uber-serious SPF 8. That was for a whole day at the beach back in the tanorexic 80s.

It’s all sprays now. I have to admit, I do like the convenience. And, you have NO excuse for missing your upper back! Of course, there are definite drawbacks to using a spray-on sunscreen.  For example, some clown *coughstheFrugcoughs* is invariably spraying it with no regard for others around him. Love the taste of sunscreen! mmm mmm mmm

We’ve found that the sound of the sunscreen spray has a Pavlovian effect on Otis. If he hears us using sunscreen, he comes RUNNING! He thinks it time for a WALK! Silly Beast. (He also thinks that seeing the Frug’s iPod means WALK too! Bless his tiny pea brain.)

The ones I truly dislike are the waterproof sprays. I choose the “sprays on clear” kind b/c why would you get a spray on lotion (the lotion is white)? Having to rub it in defeats the purpose of the spray-on convenience, right?  Anyway, the waterproof sunscreen sprays form a sticky coating on your skin. Sort of like a shrink wrap (oh, why can’t it actually SHRINK things?)…or, more painfully accurate, like a sausage casing. *sighs*  Do NOT appreciate feeling like a sausage, kwim?!

Final insult is having to literally scrape it from my skin while I shower. Not cool. Although, if they found a way to make it truly exfoliating, that would work. *sighs*  The things I go thru to protect my Irish hide…

Yes, I’m still fixated on this…

 

Yes, I’m still whining about this Scarlett Johansson and her bodyguard thing. *growls* A) She’s on a yacht somewhere off the coast of Italy. *wants* and B) LOOK at the guy.

It’s making me feel like Veruca Salt. “I want an Italian bodyguard and I want it NOW!”