Thursday, March 29, 2012

How to Traumatize a Neighbor

I’ve been out of commission for a couple of months due to a few factors.  We moved from Northern Phoenix to Maricopa, Arizona which is about an hour away.  Packing after over four years of being in one place took forever.  Not to mention the UN-packing which isn’t even finished entirely.

Aaaanyway, when we moved we found ourselves situated a LOT closer to the Aunt and her family (you know, the one who wanted to sell her other half on Craigslist).  The following is a 100% true and accurate account of The Event, which occurred yesterday…

As it was a comfortable 78-ish degrees in the Arizona desert the Aunt decided to head outside to do some yard work.  Watering the trees, pulling weeds, compulsively scrubbing the stucco walls, etc.  All the while grumbling under her breath at her other half who, by Man Code, should have been pulling the weeds himself.

During her crusade for a cleaner lawn she noticed a van driving slowly down her street.  Squinting her eyes, she immediately came to the conclusion that this MUST be me coming by to visit (even though we hadn’t spoken on the phone or made ANY sort of plans for me to do so).  Rather than throw up an arm and wave sociably she instead chose to try to scare me.

Conjuring up her best zombie stance based on countless hours obsessing over The Walking Dead she waited until the van was right in front of her house before leaping out from behind the bushes into the middle of the street, directly in front of the unsuspecting vehicle.  Her posture bent in unnatural ways, she let out her loudest, fiercest, and most frightening zombie battle cry while contorting her features and holding up her arms menacingly.

This went on for about 45 seconds before she really began to pay attention to the lack of response coming from the vehicle.  Squinting her eyes against the desert sun she peered through the windshield, humiliated beyond belief to realize that no, that was not her niece.

A mortified look graced her features, enhanced by the immediate reddening of her cheeks as she mumbled an apology and tried to explain herself.

Not surprisingly, the woman was in no way about to roll down her window, let alone get out of the car to listen to the words of what was obviously either an escaped mental patient or a housewife about to drag her from the car and beat her to death over a man who wouldn’t pull weeds for her.  After a few seconds of trying to apologize, Aunt simply hung her head in shame and stepped back onto the sidewalk, allowing the traumatized driver to pass.

Adding insult to injury, the woman pulled into her own driveway…two houses down.

Now folks, I drive a gold-ish Pontiac Montana van.  Aunt drives a Green Pontiac Montana van.  One would assume that she would know what a Montana looks like.  But after admitting her indiscretion to her other half he (after he regained the ability to speak and wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes) took a peek at the woman’s van parked in her driveway.  His response?

“That doesn’t look a thing like Chrissy’s van.  It’s not even the same color.”

Several hours later Aunt called me to recount the tale of her indignity.  After I laughed myself purple it was decided that I would pop over for a visit after all.

Myself and my young son arrived just in time to catch Aunt in the front yard.  “Let’s go check the mail,” she said.

“Don’t jump out in front of any cars on your way,” replied her other half.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Reserve Not Met

While browsing news articles on the internet I came across the story of a woman who put her gaming husband up for sale on Craigslist.  The link was immediately sent to my aunt who could really relate.

Intrigued, I went scrounging for other obscure listings for sale.  One of the first things I came across was a wireless doorbell…for your dog. 

No amount of training would get my land manatees to use a doorbell when trying to propel themselves through the panes of glass on the door works just as well.

I also found someone claiming that, for only $24.99, they would accurately predict the gender of your unborn child via mail!

Along the same lines there is the person selling a sealed cardboard box claiming that there is a ghost inside.
See, now this is a bad idea whichever way you look at it.  Someone purchasing the box just to prove the seller wrong was dumb enough to spend money on air.  But what if that same person opened the box to reveal an actual apparition? 

This next one is just…wow.  I fully believe that there are men out there who willingly PAID $5k to act in an adult movie.  And by movie they mean the low-budget moaning shown on Skin-a-Max. 

And last but not least (certainly not least) we have someone in Austin, Texas offering their “Immortal Soul” for the starting bid of $500.  Seriously?  Are there really soul collectors out there?

So I put it to you guys:

What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever seen up for auction or sale online?

Saturday, November 26, 2011

I before E, eh?

We've all heard it.  "I before E except after C".  It was drilled into our little grammar school heads over and over as the Cardinal Rule of Spelling.

Well, my friends, I hate to have to be the one to tell you this...  (cue sad instrumental music) that rule is crap. 

I know, I know, you're all:

And that's all well and good.  But may I present you with:

Such rebellious words.  Clearly the E is before the I and no one noticed in all this time?!  Shouldn't it be anceint?  and Soceity?

And finally we have those shifty "ie" and "ei" folks that switch it up when there is NO C INVOLVED:

Yep, I don't get it either.

Tune in to our next attack on spelling, grammar, and pronunciation when we explore "cello" and "cellophane".  Why isn't it pronounced "CHELLO-fane?"

Saturday, November 19, 2011

A Mutual Enemy

Though the battle between Team Overhand and Team Underhand is one that may never be resolved we are forced to admit that we share one thing in common:

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I Survived Pregnancy For This?

It was last November that I revealed to men the no-no’s of dealing with a pregnant wife in The Man’s Survival Guide to Pregnancy.  Now, one year later, I am back bearing warnings for the ladies. 

There are countless websites, pamphlets, dickhead relatives, and nosy strangers who tell you that “Things are going to change.”  Well, no kidding.  You are adding a family member who can’t take care of himself but who has the mysterious ability to turn any adult into a blundering, baby-babbling mess.  They tell you that you may as well throw out all of your shoes because they won’t fit anymore (this happened to me and I’m still bitter about it) and to “sleep while you can”.  Right.  Like you’ll really be able to say, “I can stay awake and take care of the baby for four days!  I got all of that extra sleep before she was born stored up and I can’t wait to use it!” 
 Sore girly bits, hair in places where hair has no business being, fingernails that require industrial strength toenail clippers to trim: all of this is true, ladies.  If you think your self-esteem took a plummet while you were pregnant get ready for the crash and burn after the baby is born.  

See, before you become pregnant you have time to not only create but adhere to a beauty regimen.  You have manicures and pedicures!  You have clothes that actually make you look cute!

After the baby is born you must face a few harsh truths when it comes to your appearance and your ability to maintain it.

Suddenly life has become less about looking your best and more about playing catch up and things that are user-friendly.  Silk and satin graciously step aside for cotton and polyester and the iron bows out entirely in favor of the “sniff test”.  You purse morphs from a cute little handbag into something that requires three separate measurements at the airport to ensure that it doesn’t break carry-on regulations.

And the one that surprised me the most (okay, maybe not the most.  That extra hair thing is still creeping me out) is that the emotional wuss you became when your hormones went crazy during the first trimester NEVER FULLY GOES AWAY!!  I mean, really, I have a long list of exes (not that long of a list.  I’m not a slut or anything) who, at some point in our relationship, complained that I was cold-hearted and hard to reach emotionally.  At least a third of my dvd collection is horror movies. 

But since having my son?  Oh, no.  The stupidest things get me choked up.  I see a smashed happy meal toy in the street and I’m all “oooohh!  What kind of person could just abandon you!?”  Yeah.  It’s that bad.

Having kids is absolutely worth it.  My son is the big cheese and he knows it.  Every once in awhile I get dressed up and go out for an evening with the girls or a date with my husband but it’s never the same.  For one thing I can’t just turn my phone off when I don’t want to be bothered anymore.  And I can’t just enjoy myself without a million thoughts running through my head.  Things like:

“I’d better leave in an hour.  I know I’ll have to get up at six regardless.”
“I should call home and check in…again.”
“What’s jiggling?”

For a new mom out on the town that last question is one you never want to know the answer to.