Monday, July 27, 2009

I'll Take Some Dumb Luck and a Side Of Eggroll

O How I wish you were some dish at an exotic Chinese Restaurant.

I know there are people out there with waaaay more shit to deal with than I do. And I am just being a brat with my kvetching about stupid shit. But it's my shit and I want to kvetch.

Just my Dumb Luck illustration #1:

Our state is out of money. So our cops are out there in full force hiding behind trees writing tickets for every possible infraction they can. Sure - I took a right on red on a street that I have taken about a cajillion times (that means I have wronged -on- red about a cajillion times). And my dumb luck? Motorcycle cop hiding lying in wait busted me. "Mea Culpa, Occifer." I honestly didn't know it was a 'no right on red' from the inside turn lane. Swearz. My bad. But while you were writing my ticket...about 24 cars whizzed past us. And - of those 24 cars , about 21 of those drivers were talking on their cell phones...with phone in hand. So you coulda made quota off these guys then the measly $35 infraction that my 'wronging -on-red' racked up. Not only do I get whacked for the ticket, but I wind up having to pay $203 (for a $35 crime) because the Legislators tack on all kinds additional fees (according to the courthouse employee I spoke to today). So I'll pay my fine and promise to heed the traffic signs and do everything right as I always (try) to do and hope I don't get hit by the 21 (with my Dumb Luck uninsured) drivers talking on their cell phones

Just my Dumb Luck illustration #2:

I pay about $550 a year for Homeowner Warranty. My Dumb Luck experience tells me that the moment my warranty runs out - the shit will hit the fan. My washing machine stopped draining water. I call Warranty company...they send out a guy (total aside: why are all the contractors sent out by said company named Vlad and from Russia or the Ukraine? discuss) who replaces the pump. It works great for him. He leaves...and later I run a load of wash and guess what? You got it. Full of water. I call them back , Vlad comes back out...runs a load. It works for him. Next day...guess what my dumb luck left in the washing machine? Yup. 3 inches of water. I call the company again and they say Vlad isn't available until Wednesday. I say " Can you send someone else?" They say "No, we send the same technician because he knows what he did " I say - "well, since he's been here twice and I still have water in my washing machine, maybe he doesn't." You see, it's comments like this that don't warrant pleasantries for me. I gotta work on that. "Tell Vlad, Wednesday's good."

I have three weeks until I have to renew the Warranty. Not counting the shower (not covered )and the outdoor electrical (also not covered) how many more things can go wrong??
...hmmmm. Before I fill that half empty glass with a nice Pinot Noir, lemme whip out the checkbook. My Dumb Luck tells me it will be all the things will fall apart are those things in the 'exclusions to warranty' section of my contract anyway.

Dumb Luck Illustration #3:

Speaking of protection ...I had a virus about a year and half ago. A worm that infected my desktop and ate up all my shit. Two visits from the GeekSquad and $350 later...all is well. Then just yesterday, I was on Facebook and the screen goes all wonky and throws out words like Trojan and Worm and Infected (which I immediately chuckle because I thought Trojan's were things that are supposed to protect your 'worm' against viruses) and my personal life is compromised and ....crap. My Dumb Luck, you ask? The Spyware that my Geek who Squaded installed here expired about 3 months ago. Fargin Icehole.

Okay - so maybe I haven't always been the biggest believer in luck. I know, I know...I have always been a naysayer and a 'glass half emtpy' kind of person. When life has given me lemons what have I done? Instead of making lemonade , I have historically sucked the pulp and chewed the pits and all until I was a shrivelled puckered up sour-puss which is why I have permenant lines from wincing and pursing my Doubting Thomas (aka angry ) eyebrows. (Lovingly referred to as my 11 (picture this ^"^) until my daughter pointed out that I should call it my 111 which would make it look more like ^"'^ ) . I have seriously considered getting Botox to get rid of my 'experience lines' ...but with my Dumb Luck - I'll get the botulism kind instead of the cosmetic kind.

But I just have to say ...I have had just about enough of you lately. So next time - hold the eggroll.

Friday, July 17, 2009

The One With Honest Crap

Today is an auspicious day here . First of all - I get a call from my girls' camp about an hour ago. Apparantly my oldest daughter (nicknamed Grace for which she has none in the physical deftness department) had a fall in the GaGa pit * and may have broken her elbow. Of course, like any concerned mom - I quickly rush to grab my keys and dash fast as lightening to the camp to take her to the ER I say "oh crap" and tell them to give her a tylenol and call me in an hour. I've got shit to do.

*The first question out of my mouth was "What the hell is a GaGa pit?" And if you are like me - and really would like to is a modified ball pit. Why GaGa? Don't know. Maybe they think that calling a parent to tell them their kid hurt herself playing in balls in innapropriate. Don't know.

Seriously, I get a call a day from this camp. "Hi, this is Camp YadaYada - Emily' jaw hurts." " Is this Swirl Girl? Emily stepped on a dead bee" "Hello Swirl Girl - Emily's fine, but I just wanted to call and say Hi"

They just called, by the way, and she is indeed okay. Took off the splint and is happy as a clam revelling in all the "are you okay's?" from her friends and basking in the "you're a trooper!" from the councellors. Phew- I wasn't looking forward spending the afternoon in the ER. I've got shit to do.

Here's the shit I've got to do. I need to acknowledge a few fellow Bloggy buddies for thinking good things about me.

JenJen from Jen's Voices bestowed two awards upon me. Two- count 'em two awards. First of all - she thinks I am A Good Read. JenJen is a fairly new blogger - and I welcome her to the fold. Thanks JenJen!

Secondly - both JenJen and Dianne from Contentedly Neurotic ( i love the name of this blog) sent me the Honest Scrap Award. Which I think is totally funny 'cuz if you say it over and over again really fast sounds completely different (hence the title of this post). This one comes with rules. Shit. I am not in the rule following mood. I've got shit to do.

Here are the rules:
1. “The Honest Scrap” award is not one to hold all to your self but it must be shared!
2. First, the recipient has to tell 10 true things about themselves in their blog that no one else knows.
3. Second, the recipient has to pass along this prestigious award to 10 more bloggers.
4. Third, those 10 bloggers all have to be notified they have been given with this award.
5. Those 10 bloggers that receive this award should link back to the blog that awarded them “The Honest Scrap’ award.

I think by the very definition of this award - if I am Honest Scrap - there are not many things you all don't know about me already.

I've mentioned peculiar quirks about myself.
I've done the 100 things about myself.
I've gotten the Q and A and A'd the Q's.
I've admitted my addictions.

I think all that shit adds up to way more than 10 honest things about me.

So now - I have to pass it on. I want to pass it on to Aunt Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka, Em over at Life Liberty and the Pursuit, Trooper Thorn over at Dogs and Jeans, C over at The Scattered Mind of A Tattooed MiniVan Mom, Kevin over at Always Home and Uncool. These guys and gals always keep me laughing and thinking. Plus - they read my honest crap fairly they will come by and pick up their awards and probably follow the rules better than I did 'cuz they are good citizens and not a slacker like me.

This is getting to be linky hell, folks. I'm only doing 5 for now. I've got shit to do.

Swirl Girl is nothing else if not Honest. Crap.

Monday, July 13, 2009

The One with Mystery , Surprise, Illusion and Spectacle

So the other night we were watching Top Chef 'The Masters" on Bravo. We are all about Top Chef because it involves food and mastery and those are two things that we live by 'round here. Anyway- in this challenge , 4 Master chefs had to create dishes for the judges , one of whom was Neil Patrick Harris (nee Doogie Howser, MD) who apparantly is really into magic and mentalist stuff. Each of the 4 Masters was given an element of the perfect magic trick on which to base their dish. The 4 elements were Mystery, Surprise, Illusion and Spectacle. And to introduce the challenge was this Wizzard-y looking guy (complete with merlin robe and widow's peak hair-do) and he did a card trick. As all of the Top Chef Master's looked on in particular stood there in total amazement with this 'howdjou do that?' look on his face. He was clapping his hands together and I swear he was hopping up and down every so slightly in a very endearing little-boy-at-a magic-show kind of way. We are watching and suddenly - well, about 11 minutes into the show - I say to Hubby (who is driving the remote so we don't have to watch commercials and agrees that DVR is the greatest invention ever) "I didn't catch any of that ...can you rewind? I have absolutely no idea what's going on here."

This is where I went (and you gotta stay with this to remember that all of 'this' happened in a few clicks of a remote control)

Back in May when we went to Florida - we had all gone out to a restaurant (a local burger joint/sportsbar) that had a roving magician. He went from table to table entertaining the patrons. He approached our table and Emily was sitting on the outside so she was the perfect 'mark'. He proceeded to do a few trick that were just okay - nothing more than the little foamy balls squished in finger cleavage and when your busy watching his bling-ed arm go one way [Illusion]...he's switching the foamy ball into the other and 'Voila' there it is! [Mystery] Then he starts to do a few tricks that even I, the glass half empty naysayer, wondered how he did it. I am sitting there (while reaching into my purse for some cash, cuz that's what he will be expecting when he's done ) watching my 9-going-on-16-year-old daughter with amazement. I snap this picture of her:

Pure, Unposed, Delighted.


Genuine. Innocence. Joy.

(Are you still with me?- I will now try to tie it all together)

I go from Florida in May to just the night before last when she lost another tooth. She 'helped' that tooth ...that I swear went from fully attached to a mere dangle in about 2 minutes...come out and quickly ran up to her room to put in the her special pillow for the Tooth Fairy. I think the last tooth she lost landed her $5 (blood money- we pay the 'idiot tax' for forgetting the very first time) , but the Tooth Fairy didn't come on time (my bad) and she was bummed out so this time she opened a window...wrapped the bloody tooth in tissue with a note with an arrow pointing to the crumpled up tissue containing her tooth booty. [Spectacle] Of course, Hubby and I swore the Tooth Fairy wouldn't forget her this time (stoopid tooth fairy)...and we both forgot. The next morning at 5:30 am - I woke from my deep sleep and asked Hubby if he remembered the money and he had it in his hand. She woke up before he had a chance to sneak it in there. She was so bummed out. Again. But only momentarily until she realized that she could suck yogurt up into the gaping hole that the tooth left [Illusion] and all was right in the world. Again.

"Mom, The Tooth Fairy didn't come again..." she says with tears welling up in her eyes. "I even left my window open for her" and several other boo-hoo-i-nesses ensue. I am feeling like a total ass at this point and wondering just how early is too early for chocolate or ice cream.

She goes upstairs to get dressed and "Voila" ! [Surprise]...there it was. The Tooth Fairy found her way into Emily's special Tooth Fairy pillow and deposited a crisp $5 into the little tooth pocket. She ran down to show me her prize and says..."Maybe it was the time change, that's why she was late!" (she knows that the tooth fairy lives in Boynton Beach, Florida and had been known to use the US Postal Service when gas prices were so high last summer) . I say "I don't know, sweetie - it's a Mystery!"

Does she really believe in the Tooth Fairy? Or is she playing us...thinking we believe she believes? Whatever the case may be - I tend to think it's the latter...she is too smart for her own good ...I wonder all of this out loud to my Hubby who puts the show on pause as I tell him where I was for the past 11 minutes...He rewinds the show so we can start over.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

The One in Which She Just Doesn't Get It

I just don't get it. Not all things, mind you. I consider myself a rational , intelligent individual (despite all evidence to the contrary) - but there are some things I just don't get.

Like this here thing called the Tornado Potato.

Everyone Some of you okay...a few of you know that my most favorite food group in the world is the 'toes group (chee, fri, dori and pota) and I have been known to experience such menu delights as the $20.00 Baked Potato (which was from one of my favorite restaurants in South Florida and consisted of a gigantic baked potato wrapped in crispy bacon and topped with shaved truffles MMMmmmgooood) and I am all about finding the crispy fries in the bottom of the box (called 'wellies' round these parts and any In N' Out Burger restaurant)...but this thing I don't get. Is it a boardwalk treat or a implement of pain? And if you've heard of these things, Tornado Potato's come with toppings like a dusting of 'cheese' or 'schmutz'. Who would want to eat schmutz?? Schmutz (pronounced shmoots as in rhymes with puts not putz) is something you scrape off your shoe or something you'd find under a table at Denny's...certainly not something you'd want to defile your beloved potato with. I guess you could call this thing a potato on a 'schtick' (badump chhh)! Obviously this snack sensation that is sweeping the boardwalks of our coasts was invented by some Carni hawker ...fucking Carnies and their unstructured suede boots. I don't get them either.

And I don't get why motorcycles are allowed to drive between lanes? Also known as lane splitting. In California, motorcycles are allowed to manuever between lanes in slow traffic. The thing is...there is no slow traffic in California. Merging onto one of our heavily congested freeways at 65 miles an hour is hard enough without having dodge Dr. Liposucker and his 'moll' on their $85,000 Harley. Just once, I'd like to spy one of these motorcycles weaving in and out of lanes and just when he's approaching me (that is to assume that I can see the friggin' douchebag in the first place which most of the time I can't )- I wanna open the car door on him and **oops**! If I have to use signals, not pass on the right, keep right except to pass, drive at safe speeds should everyone else.

And you know what else I don't get?? Does every gas station attendant and 7-11 employee have to take a vow that they will always be on the phone? Is it on the application? Who are they talking to anyway?? Are these guys really employees of the gas station or 7-11 or are they actually {insert name of customer service institution here } call center ? "Thank you for calling Dewey, Cheetum and Howe. This is Mujibur, how may I be of service to you today ? and that will be $20 on pump 8 , vwon Qvick pick and a curry shake? ** Not you ma'am, please hold..."

Why does it cost $51.00 to see a kids movie?? We took the girls to see Ice Age 3 the other night. Effin' Fifty One Effin dollars just for tickets. Why? It's 3-d and according to the gum snapper** behind the counter, there is a $3 up-charge for the 3-D!! I don't get it. The movie is made already. The theater has all the equipment to run the 3-d movie already. They ask for the 3-d glasses back at the end of the movie and that's fine 'cuz life is already in 3-d and the dang glasses look goofy and don't block UV rays or else everyone would want to take them home...So what is the upcharge for? The theater is gonna 'gitcha' with $25 in assorted stale popcorn and Raisinettes and water....So what's the $3 per ticket upcharge for??? I just don't get it.

And last in today's rant list of things I just don't get...(and mostly I don't get why I am even wasting my fingertips on this but if one more person asks me if I saw the funeral I am gonna go postal on someone) is this: The dude is dead. He was a talented entertainer for sure. He was a the butt (no pun intended) of every late night talk show joke. A troubled , tortured, acquitted (but guilty?) child molester that nobody wanted to admit knowing a few years ago, he hated himself so much that he did eveything physically that he could to change his appearance.....but a great man?? A great father?? (I wouldn't let my kid spend the night, how about you?) A role model?? A hero?? I don't think so. I just don't get it. And in a state where we are closing schools and giving IOU's to tax payers for their refunds and paychecks...the city of Los Angeles spent over $4 million on police and security thus depleting the city's overtime budget and snarling traffic and pre-empting Oprah and Ellen to televise the flower festooned gold casket. I think the Jackson Family Trust should have to foot the bill for this one, not the taxpayers. That would be the heroic thing to do. And 'we' have to find the person who administered the fatal drug?? Is it so hard to believe that Mr. Jackson (if you're nasty ) survived all these years on a cocktail of various and sundry psycho-active drugs and strong pain killers? Is it possible that he just took the wrong combination of drugs himself - whether or not intentional - as a way to further disconnect himself from his inner 'whose Bad?" Why must it be assumed that something was administered by some less than scrupulous doctor? Gotta find the evil-doer. God forbid we all just go back to thinking he was Whacko-Jacko. Why can't everyone just own up. Okay, so he was and forever will be the King of Pop. And O.J. wasn't guilty either.

But I just don't get it.

**I am in no way implying the pre-requisite for working the register at a 7-11 or a gas station is being of Indian descent, I just call it like I see if I offend anyone - sorry 'bout that . I am an equal opportunity offender. I am implying , however, that every employee of the movie theater is indeed a gum snapper.

Monday, July 6, 2009

The One in Which She Gives It Away....

Well - the results are in!!
I am pleased to announce the official winner of Swirl Girl's first ever give-away!
After the official ballots were officially tabulated and officially chosen in a very scientific way - And the winner is ....

Cristin of Tiptoeing Through the Tulips!!

- I can't wait to hear all about it!!

I was cracking up when I did this. Who needs Google Analytics to see what brings readers to this , my snark-fest I call a - blog. Just look at the names of the entrants !! Organic Meatball, Always Home and Uncool, Sass, Tattoed MiniVan Mom, Scary Mommy, A Different Kind of Girl, Tub O' Lard, Mental name just a few. Are we sensing a theme here folks?

Like minds y'all, like minds. Thanks!

Friday, July 3, 2009

Phourth Of July Photo Phinish

I'm joining Candid Carrie's blogging band today with something I think could pass as the New National Anthem. My girls were playing with their Tinker Toys (which used to be made of splinter-inducing wood and paper-cut causing straws , by the way...Now they are designated to being made especially for girls with pink and purple , safe to use, non-toxic machine molded plastic rendering them wholly non-American as far as I am concerned because not only are they made somewhere in Asia - but if you can't hurt yourself with 'em then what's the point - okay, sorry ...take deep cleansing breaths Swirl Girl)

Anyway...Have a Chicky-Chicky Bow-Wow of a Holiday everyone!

and come back Sunday to see who won this!!! (oh, and you still have a day to enter pun intended)