Fuck Off Friday

I'm not sure whether this will be a regular feature or not. I suppose it depends on how offended people are by this initial list. Because you probably like something on this list. And I get that. I'm just really grouchy right now.

Things that can just fuck off, in no particular order:

1. Blog giveaways. I know, I know. I've hosted some. You've hosted some or won something or whatever. But there are just SO MANY. I think that's all some blogs do these days. I think there should be a rule that giveaways can only be one out of every ten posts or something. Back in the day, bloggers didn't even host giveaways. . .and we had walk ten miles up hill in the snow to our computers. 

2. Twitter parties. Yeah, I said it. It's not that I don't love talking to people on The Twitter. I know that the Band has done some real good through their parties and I'm sure others have too. But. Mostly they're about winning products. And the tweets are filled with boring one word hashtags, instead of witty hashtages at the end. Maybe I should learn how to used Tweetdeck properly so that I could follow Twitter parties instead of just trying to keep up between all the people tweeting about giveaways.

3. Participating in a Twitter party or writing a blog post to possibly win a gift card or product. I really need to remove myself from marketing mailing lists. You see, I'd like to be PR friendly, but why should I pimp your product or message on my blog for a chance at a gift card? Is that what you'd say to a TV station or a newspaper? We'll maybe pay you for our ad if you participate in a contest?*

4. Bills. Duh.

5. The massive traffic clusterfuck in my small town. They closed off one of the main arteries through town - which goes to all 3 schools and is used by tons of people cutting through our town every day. Now they are all going past my street. It sucks.
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6. School fundraisers. I would rather just give them $20 than try to convince other people to buy wrapping papers, plants, cookie dough or whatever else we're selling.



*I get that this blog (unfortunately) does not reach the audience numbers of even the lamest cable channel. But then, I'm not asking to be paid at TV station rates. I'd just like to be paid instead of entering a "contest just for bloggers with a Page Rank of 3 or higher". 

That Photo

Over at Band Back Together, we are having a 9/11 inspired carnival. Last year, I wrote about what 9/11 meant for me.

Recently, a number of people on my Facebook timeline have shared a picture of the towers burning, asking people to "like" the photo to honor all that were killed.

I fucking hate that photo.

It's not that I don't want to honor everyone who was killed, injured, or heartbroken. It's not that I don't want to honor those who lost someone or those who were responders. I really, really, do. But I'm never going to "like" that photo - and not just because I very rarely pass that sort of stuff on.

I fucking hate that photo.

To me, that photo honors destruction and hate and the horrible sick feeling I had as I stared at the TV screen that day. To me, that photo is a slap in the face to everyone who loved someone in the towers that day. To me, that photo belongs in books and historical accounts and on websites devoted to 9/11, not on social media where anyone could be devastated by it. I mean, I'm upset by it and I was not close to any of the people I know were in the towers that day.

I fucking hate that photo.

And I ask, before you "like" a photo on Facebook and pass it to everyone on your friends list, that you think about it. Do you really like the photo? Could it trigger anyone? Does it really show the spirit you want to convey?

Preschool: Where the Drama Never Ends

Remember when I talked about the AMAZING preschool teacher I wanted Hugmonkey to have? Then I consoled myself that he could have her the next year? 

She's been fired. 

The woman who teared up when Ironflower and then Lovebug moved on to the 4 year old classroom, who drove through a snow storm on a snow day to deliver the kids' Xmas gifts, the woman who has teenage students come back to visit her, has been fired. 

She sent an email to parents yesterday. In it, she said she was still unclear about why she had been fired and that she'd never gotten a negative review from the school director and how she would miss us all. 

A few hours later, we got an email from the school board president. I didn't even know there was a board for the preschool, but apparently there is. It's through the school's affiliated church. This email said that the school director and the church minister were out of town, but that she would be meeting with them on Monday to clarify "this issue". And she assured us that they were interested in serving the best interests of our children. 

I sent a nice note to the teacher, thanking her for teaching my kids to love school. 

I asked another parent more connected to the church if she knew anything. She didn't. 

I had a few flashbacks to my last year of teaching and how a number of us who actually did try to serve the best interests of the children were put on probation. 

I started looking at other preschools. 

Because unless I hear that the amazing teacher was embezzling, abusing children and/or snorting coke during class, I can't imagine a decent reason to fire her. And if they can fire the best teacher in the school (there are people whose sole reason for going to the school is for their kids to have her) for no good reason, I don't want Hugmonkey to go there. 

Even though it will kill me not to send Hugmonkey there, where he's been anxious to go since he could walk. Where he already knows his way around and recognizes most of the teachers. Where I already know how everything works. Where the tuition is relatively affordable. 

I'm not going to make any decisions until I hear their reasons. Maybe she's been dealing all those former students drugs. Maybe she secretly beats the assistant teachers. But I think it's far more likely that their reasons will be complete bullshit. And then I will have to march in there and withdraw Hugmonkey. And yes, I will tell them why. 

I just hope I'm not the only one. 

Maybe My TV Viewing Should Be Restricted

Today I am ticked off at Kelly Ripa. I don't want to pick on a fellow girl from Jersey (oh yeah, don't let the blonde perkiness fool you, she's from Jersey - so don't fuck with her), but those appliance commercials she does make me want to find Hot Guy's old paintball gun and shoot her. In the eye.

Generally, I like Kelly well enough. Anyone who was on Dance Party USA (I so wanted to be on that show) is going to have my affection. Even if she's a size 2 mother of three with like 7 jobs and oodles of money who plays up the whole ditz thing a little too much. But these appliance commercials are insulting MY intelligence and I don't play the ditz card. (I do not mean to say that I am never ditzy. Anyone who has ever seen me cook, drink more than 2 beers, or play a game that requires hand-eye coordination can attest to my ditziness. But I'm never playing. All my stupidity is real.)

Anyway, in case you're one of those people who never has to watch live TV anymore, the commercial or commercials (there may be more than 1 version) show Kelly rushing around a lovely home acting like she's a housewife who's busy life has been saved by using the appliances.

Who out there thinks that in addition to hosting with Regis and producing weird shows for TLC and maybe still being on All My Children (I have no idea about that one) and keeping her hot husband happy and hitting the gym for hours each day (I'm assuming) and spending time with her children that she takes the time out to do her family's laundry? Anyone? Bueller?

I don't know how much money she and her husband make. Possibly not as much as I'd thought, considering she's doing these stupid commercials. But still, I think she makes enough to have a cleaning lady. Or five.

And I don't have a problem with that.  Cleaning sucks (that's why I blog instead, after all). I will hire a cleaning lady of my own(maybe like Alice from Brady Bunch, but open about her sexuality) as soon as my blog starts making tons of money or I win the lottery. But I after I hire my cleaning lady, I will be changing the theme of my blog and I will NOT be posting about appliances. Because I won't be doing any fucking laundry.

So Kelly, do us all a favor. Tell the advertising team that we all know you're not really one of us and that you don't do your own laundry. You are a blonde from Jersey who appears on national television every day. Tell them to write you a believable commercial. Or else.

Flashback: Reason #1664 I Quit Teaching

I was watching the Wanda Sykes show last night (It was one channel up from the Olympics and I got really sick of staring at Apolo Ohno's stupid soul patch while waiting for him to skate) and they got into a discussion about how some 12 year old New York City schoolgirl got arrested for writing on her desk.

Now, I missed this story, probably because the only local news I (grudgingly) watch is News12New Jersey. I could Google it now and get all the facts, but they're not germane to my post and, um, once I start Googling things hours fly by and I realize that I've forgotten to feed my children. So if you really care, you can Google it yourself. Preferably after you've read my post.

Anyway, Wanda was getting all, "They've taken 'zero tolerance' too far!" and her guests were all "Oh my, who could handcuff a 12 year old girl?"

I could.

I've seen a second grader handcuffed and you know what my main emotion was? Relief.

Granted, the second grader had been throwing chairs at other students and had had to be restrained by 2 adults and hadn't been writing on his desk, but still. You know what started the assault (yes, I"m calling it assault when a student throws chairs at other students and bites a teacher and bruises several teachers) with the second grader? I wanted him to do his math. His math that he was fully intellectually capable of doing.

His mother's response, when confronted with her son's behavior issues, was to tell us not to upset him. Other responses I've heard from parents (and yes these are all true, I wrote them all down at one time or another) about things like biting, stealing, cheating and vandalizing include:

"He ain't my problem when he's at school,"

"Why you always be picking on my boy?"

"I'll make sure to smack him when he gets home,"

"Well, my daughter says you punch the other kids."

"Yeah, she's bad."

Most of the students of those parents were not ever arrested at school, at least not while I was teaching them. My school, though I think it had "zero tolerance" on the books, had a more of a let's-wait-until-you-assault-the-principal- tolerance policy.

So most of those kids? Only got worse. Maybe a few teachers got together and came up with a strategy to help this kid or that kid, but they were all only band-aids. Most of the parents were too stressed, overwhelmed or angry to get involved. They just stopped answering calls from the school.

But when a kid is arrested, that's different. They have to get involved then. There are social workers and evaluations and all sorts of things. Sometimes this inspires the parent to move to a new school district (that's what happened with my second grader) but sometimes it actually helps.

I'd rather have a 12 year old arrested for writing on her desk than an 18 year old arrested for vandalizing a store. I'd rather have a second grader in handcuffs than a 14 year old beating someone to death. (Actually what I'd rather have is a world with no unwanted children, where parents have to be licensed and every child knows unconditional love, but I accept reality).

"

Move Your Cookies

Dear Stop and Shop,

I don't have a lot of willpower. I cope with stress through vices and since  I don't find hangovers and smoker's cough compatible with motherhood, I've turned to chocolate. (Also french fries. But not from your store. Because frozen french fries don't do it for me. What was I talking about?)

Anyway, recently I've been trying to cut back on the chocolate. Because constantly having to buy new (larger) jeans for myself? Also not compatible with motherhood.

And speaking of compatibility, do you really have to put your bakery-made chocolate chip cookies on a special table right in front of the milk? Seriously? Let me tell you, those chocolate cookies you guys make are GOOD. Not quite as good as my mom's, but very, very yummy. They have an addictive quality, I think. I mean, I'd avoided the bakery area on the other side of the damn store so I wouldn't be tempted. But there they were. . . . . .right in front of the one place I can never avoid.

Are you evil, Stop and Shop?

I mean, I know you want to move as much product as possible. . .but you seriously cannot get to the milk  without being in cookie grabbing distance. That's not product placement, that's torture.

In conclusion, let me just stay this:

Move the damn  cookies or I'm sending you my clothing bills.

Thank you for your time,

Jerseygirl89

PS

Please do not send me a form letter about eating more vegetables or the benefits of meditation. If you would really like to prevent me from going on a cookie rampage, add a martini bar (and a daycare) to your facility.

People Who Need to Be Deported* (With Apologies to Dr. King)

I am sorry to post this blog on your day, Dr. King. I know that it is the opposite of tolerance and love for fellow man, but I feel like you would understand.

This may be a foreshadowing of the grumpy old lady I'm becoming, in which case I look forward to smacking these people with my cane someday. . .

1. Pat Robertson. For being everything that's wrong with today's Evangelical movement as well as a bigoted ignoramus. Jesus would be helping in Haiti, asshole.

2. The Jersey Shore cast. Not because they're ignorant trash who are making more money than I am, but because ONLY ONE OF THEM IS ACTUALLY FROM NEW JERSEY.  Spending a summer on the Jersey shore does not make you from New Jersey, capiche?

3. John Gosselin. It's not like he spends time with his kids any more anyway, and maybe all of his young girlfriends would follow him. Although this whole story is a great case in point about the dangers of marrying young and treating your husband like one of the kids.

4. Glenn Beck. Pandering to the ignorant is so mercenary.

5.The creator of Yo Gabba Gabba. That show is just freaking WEIRD, yet even the baby stares at it if it's on. And the songs stick in my head for days.

6. My local nemesis. He's an overbearing stay-at-home dad I see around town all the time who has published a novel based on bashing the people in his playgroup. We've met countless times  and have kids the same age and he refuses to remember who I am or speak to me. And his kids are RUDE.

7. The head of NBC programming. First, there's the fact that Friday Night Lights, one of the best shows on television, is treated like a second-class citizen (WHEN are you putting it on the network? WHEN?). Then there's was the blatant idiocy of giving Leno 10 o'clock, screwing over Conan and Jimmy somewhat, not to mention all the quality shows that could have gone on then (ie Friday Night Lights, Criminal Intent). And now there's the end of the 10 o'clock show and all this stupid fighting. But I might let him/her eventually back for approving Community. I like that show.

8. The casting director of the Twilight series. Yeah, I got into the books. Though I'm still not sure why. But I haven't seen any of the movies and I never will. Robert Pattinson is not hot enough to be Edward and he never will be.

*I know that most, if not all, of these people are American citizens and can't technically be deported. But it sounds nicer than "shot".

Yet Another Reason I Probably Don't Belong in the Suburbs

Leaves.

Specifically, leaves that have fallen. Onto the ground. All over people's pristine lawns.

I like them there.

I especially like them there when the alternative is for some a**hole with a leafblower to spend an afternoon blowing them into the street. Where they pile up, only occasionally getting picked up by the town.

My parents' town is the worst, which is odd considering that I think they pay the highest taxes in the county. Anyway, leaves are blown into the street, leaving precious lawns unlittered - but causing cars to slide on them after rains, blocking storm drains and just generally making driving kind of hazardous.

Though even if the huge piles of leaves were picked up regularly and/or didn't cause driving hazards, I would still be against the whole leafblowing thing. Because seriously, is it really that bad to have leaves on the lawn?

I mean, people drive to the northeast just to look at the leaves while they're on the trees, but once the leaves hit the ground they're all of a sudden completely horrible?

I LIKE how they look on the lawn. It being fall and all, it seems rather appropriate. But scores of landscape guys and weekend warriors seems to disagree with me, as blowing them into the street seems to be some sort of county passtime. (And how come I have never, ever, seen a woman with a leafblower? I've seen them raking, but not one blowing leaves - and usually sticks, trash and toys - into kingdom come. Why?)

I suppose what really gets me is that after all the noise and air pollution to get rid of the leaves, they wind up blowing back into people's yards from the piles in the street. So what's the point?

F*ck You, Rush Limbaugh

And you, Bill O'Reilly. And you, Sean Hannity. And most especially you, Glenn Beck. And every news producer who has replayed anything those you idiots have said, which I'm pretty sure covers every media outlet.

Because there's a difference between disagreement and disgusting behavior, and you all have crossed it. And I happen to know that Bill, at least, is playing a role and doesn't believe everything he spouts (or lets his viewers spout). But this playing to the lunatic fringes makes me nauseous.

If the birther movement wasn't bad enough (like that wouldn't have been checked by all the McCain and Clinton resources already? Seriously?), now we've got people comparing Obama to Hitler. If it's not his "socialized" medicine (I guess then the UK, Canada and Ireland are all socialist countries, maybe we should stop asking them to assist us in our wars), then it's the fact that schoolchildren sang a song about him. Because it was okay when schoolchildren sang songs about Bush (Jon Stewart showed a lovely song thanking Bush and FEMA for all their help, sung by young Katrina victims, for example), but when people do it for Obama it means he wants to be Hitler? And the schoolchildren are being indoctrinated? Like public school isn't one long series of indoctrinations?

I mean, I really don't care if they hate Obama. I certainly had a strong aversion to Bush. But. . . .I didn't go around comparing him to Hitler. Because you know what? He wasn't trying to exterminate everyone he deemed undesirable (at least not directly) and he didn't try to take over Europe. Totally not like Hitler.

And neither is Obama. There's no extermination, no take over the world plans and no dissolution of Congress.  Nor is he a socialist, if you actually understand the definition of the word. But I guess the viewers love those phrases, whether they're actually true or not. So the talking heads keep using them, spinning the idiots of this country up until they all think that our president is a too-smart Kenyan who wants to be Hitler or Mussolini.  Meanwhile, proud Republicans like Tom DeLay go on Dancing With the Stars, where they can really make a difference.

But, honestly, would a smart person actually want to be Hitler? He committed suicide. And Mussolini was executed. Demagogues don't usually walk gently into a luxurious old age. Of course, Rush, Bill, Sean and Glenn know that (I think). They probably know that comparing Obama to Hitler is incendiary and ridiculous. They just don't care. It's not about debating about what's best for our country anymore, it's about naming calling and who's "winning" by getting the most viewers and votes for their favorites.

It's not like they really care.

Get Off My Ass

In my years away from Jersey, I missed some things. Great pizza. People who speak quickly. Bagels. Fellow Yankees fans. Delis. The shore. Diners. But I never missed the cramped movie theaters and I cringed at the thought of driving out here again.

They've fixed the movie theater situation, but I'm afraid the driving has only gotten worse.

It used to be that as long as I avoided the highways filled with aggressive speeders and tailgaters, I felt okay. One of the great things about Jersey is that there's a back way to get pretty much anywhere, so this was not the problem it could have been. But since moving back, my knowledge of the back roads has not been enough.

The psychos are everywhere now.

Sometimes they're like the bitch who followed me yesterday, two inches from my bumper, gesturing. I was going the speed limit AND there was a lane she could have used to pass me, but she preferred to stay behind me and risk rear-ending me.

Then there was the person today, going ten miles under the speed limit, braking at each (unlit and unsigned) intersection and flipping me off when I darted around her.

And you can't forget the people driving their hulking SUVs (and I say this as a minivan driver) while talking on their hand-held cell phones (illegal here), who can't park - or turn - for shit.

Of course there are also the douchebags who think that I too will be charmed by the fact that their car stereos can play R.Kelly very, very loudly. I mean really, why would anyone want to play R. Kelly at all?

Occasionally there seems to be cross-breeding, such as when a tail-gater needs to play his car stereo at full volume, or when a slowpoke is also talking on his cell-phone.

Finally there are the people who really scare me. The ones that think our little provincial highway is, in fact, a NASCAR track. They weave in and out of traffic at 100 miles per hour, as though they were playing a videogame. And I swear it's not only bitterness because I happen to suck at any videogame that requires driving - though I think it's really odd that even though I've never caused an accident in real life and hardly even get honked at I can't drive an imaginary car worth a damn - it's because it's fucking dangerous.

So here's a little message, lousy drivers of the world: Get OFF my ASS.

You didn't think this would be about exercise, did you?

Lucky F**kin' Ducks

Ironflower got a belated birthday present. I'm sure the gift was given in good faith. I'm fairly sure this person's child did not receive the same gift for his birthday and that this person didn't take one look at it and decide to regift it. But even if she did, I totally understand why.

Ironflower received a game called "Lucky Ducks". It requires batteries. Unfortunately, we actually had the batteries. So Ironflower has been playing the game since yesterday. Lovebug and I have even played with her. The game is simple enough that she can play by herself or with her brother (without fighting). It's a bit educational. But what it mostly is, is loud. The ducks quack throughout the ENTIRE game.

Which means that while Ironflower entertains herself for an hour - which is fantastic - the ducks quack for that entire hour. Which is not fantastic. In fact, it's so annoying that I'm kinda hoping that the game breaks. Normally I can ignore - some would say all too easily - the noises my children and their toys make. But the mechanic quacking is DRIVING ME INSANE. And it's not just me.

This afternoon Lovebug got up and ran away during a Lucky Ducks game. The conversation that ensued was illuminating:

Ironflower: Where are you going? The game's not over.
Lovebug: NO! NO! NO DUCKS! I PLAY TRAINS!!!!!! NO DUCKS!

And ChunkyMonkey, who normally sleeps peacefully during the screams, shouts and thuds of his siblings, woke up when the Lucky Ducks game came on.

I'm telling you, these quacks are possibly the most annoying sound on the planet.How wrong would it be if the game disappeared suddenly? Or ran out of batteries?

And what the hell should I write in the thank-you note?

And Today's Rant Is. . .

So I see on the news that they have positively identified the bones of Caylee Anthony.

I'm not surprised. I am saddened, of course. I mean, what sane person doesn't find this whole story depressing?

What depresses me more, though, is all the missing kids we don't hear about. Is Caylee Anthony the only kid to have gone missing in the last six months? Unfortunately, no.

But she's probably the only cute little white girl with an attractive single mom to have gone missing in the last six months. Sure, I'd like to think that the only reason the media has been all over this story is that Casey Anthony is a compelling villain, but it's not true. Caylee was adorable. And white.

Jennifer Hudson's missing (black) nephew didn't garner as much coverage as Caylee has.

And I'm not saying that there shouldn't have been so much about Caylee. But over 2000 children go missing EVERY DAY. And roughly 2000 children are murdered by their parents or caretakers every year. So the story of Caylee Anthony is not some weird anomaly that deserves media obsession to the exclusion of stories about all the other missing and murdered kids.

When was the last time you saw a news frenzy about a missing child with dark skin? Excluding Jennifer Hudson's nephew, the last one I can remember occurred when I lived in Kansas City. In that case, it was a story about how they found the remains of a little African-American girl. . . and were hoping someone would identify her. Because the media obviously didn't pick up the story when she went missing.

The other thing that ticked me off during this news story - and during that long ago Kansas City story - was the pile of bears and toys placed near the sites. Not that I begrudge honoring the dead. . .but where were all these caring people when these children were being neglected and abused while they were alive? Were they calling the department of children and family services? Were they offering to baby-sit? Were they giving bears and toys to the family or other needy families? Were they helping the stressed out parents around them?

Maybe they were. But while teaching I saw so many people afraid to get involved. . .often until it was too late. Some of those people were actually grandparents. Which brings me back to Caylee. I think
I blame her grandparents almost as much as I blame her mother.

I Need Your Creative Genius. . . or Possibly A Session With A Counselor

Hot Guy is out of town again. My parents are also out of town. My carpal tunnel has gotten so bad that no matter how much I wear the stupid wrist things, my hands hurt and my fingers are like an old woman's. My back hurts. I'm not getting enough sleep.

And yesterday I got a phone call form our former cell phone provider, Verizon. The guy was nasty, probably because I owe them money. However, when he said how much I owed, I was confused. I was connected to a different department. Naturally this happened when we were on our way to a play date. So after being put on hold for ten minutes while Lovebug tried to sneak out the door, I asked if I could call back later. I was told I could.

I called back, but of course the right department had closed. So I called this morning. It seems that my bill is larger because of an early termination fee. Except that I specifically called and asked what day I could terminate our old phones safely. I explained this. The woman on the phone explained that since T-Mobile had transferred my husband's number on the 25th - the day before my contract expiration - I owed the fee. I countered that since my T-Mobile service started on the 27th, how was I to know that they'd transferred it early? No one had mentioned it when I called to cancel my service on the 26th. I also pointed out that we were talking about one freaking day. She said I should blame T-Mobile and talk to them. I said they weren't the ones charging me $120 that I don't have. This went on for some time, before I got to the supervisor. I used the term "shitty" to describe the behavior, but I did not call names.

The supervisor was no more helpful - unless I was transferring back to Verizon, in which case she would cancel the fee. I said that was fucking ridiculous. She said that she wouldn't put up with cursing and hung up on me while I was apologizing for cursing. And then I promptly burst into hysterical pregnant woman tears.

I hate Verizon with a deep passion right now. I think they are being so unfair, especially since both bitches women I talked to said that while it's not written anywhere that cell phone companies can take numbers early, I should have known that they would do that and thus I would incur the fee - even though it's noted in my account that I called to find out when I could terminate my contract without incurring the fee and that I called on the 26th to cancel my service and asked about the fee again. And, we're talking about one freaking day.

I do not trust myself to call back today, not that I'm sure it would do any good. But of course, if I don't pay them - or don't pay the fee part of the bill - it will go to collections. My credit doesn't need that. So, anyone got any ideas? Is there anything else I can do? And if there isn't, does anyone have any ideas on how to get revenge on Verizon? (Not terrorist type revenge, of course, just the pocketbook kind - I"m not that hormonal. Yet.)

I Wanna Rock

It's possible that I'm cranky. Okay, it's probable that I'm cranky. And in my crankiness I may be a bit less tolerant than my normally sunny tolerant less cranky personality allows me to be. I feel like I have extreme aggravation on speed dial. Things that would normally merely annoy me are driving me bats. The kind of bats that makes me want to throw things. Things like rocks.

But because I don't to set a bad example for my children, I've decided to throw a few metaphorical rocks instead.

My Targets

1. The medical and scientific community - why hasn't the treatment for carpal tunnel syndrome changed in twenty years? Everything else has. Oh, and an extra rock for Dr.Coven who implied that I was being whiny when I mentioned the carpal tunnel, exhaustion and heartburn I've been experiencing lately.

2. People who send me emails with ridiculous political or medical allegations without doing any research on them. It's not really hard to check Snopes.com or Truth in Politics, you know? Or if you don't want to research it, don't freaking send it to me. Because I WILL check and I WILL reply.

(PS If you receive the one that makes false allegations about Obama and is supposedly written by NYT columnist Maureen Dowd, delete it. Definitely fake.)

3. Parents who don't allow their children to grow up - have you heard about the parents of college kids who give them wake-up calls, argue with their professors about their grades and confront their roommates for them? Do you want any of these kids to be your doctor, lawyer or child's teacher someday?

4. Whoever brought high waist pants back. Because those pants just look ugly.

5. The reality "stars" on VH1's show "I Love Money" and the producers paying them. Their time is up. Let them crawl back into their trashy lives where they belong.

6. Everyone who speeds on my cul-de-sac. Where the fuck do you think you're going to go?

7. The Travel Channel. Because The World Series of Poker, while on the channel practically every night, is not a travel show.

8. Politicians who are pro-life but vote against expanding health care for kids, day care vouchers, sex education, tax breaks for lower middle class families and everything else that will help after the children are born.

9. My dryer. The buzzing noise it makes to signal that it's done is the most grating noise I've ever heard - and that includes when both of my children are whining.

10. Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly. Because people actually take them seriously.

Anything/one you'd like to throw a rock at?

No, Ms. Martinez is NOT Available

Dear Zola Martinez,

We have never met. Or spoken. Or read each other's blogs. Hell, I don't even know if you have a blog. I'll guess not, because most bloggers I know have more sense than you do. You have made the mistake of giving out my cell phone number to countless online universities.

Possibly you are too stupid to remember your own phone number and you have given mine as a purely innocent mistake. Er, mistakes, since I've already gotten ten phone calls in the last twenty-four hours. To make the same mistake ten times in a row makes me wonder if you are not quite ready for a university education.

Possibly you made up a number when filling out the online university forms, not wanting to admit you didn't have one or maybe fearing giving out your number on the internet. Didn't it occur to you that you were giving out SOMEONE'S number? And that if the admissions offices used that number they would wind up talking to an irate person that was not you? I'm not sure that's the impression you want to give the people who will soon be reviewing your application.

Possibly you are someone I know, someone looking for a way to aggravate me. You have succeeded, but who the hell are you? It's a fairly new number that I only just gave out to people I like. Surely Wendy Lapham and those girls in the band have gotten over their high school hostility by now? And if they haven't, who would have sold me out to them? I only talk to about four people from high school. I don't keep in touch with anyone from college, though I was much nicer then. Unless my ex-husband has somehow tracked me down AND found out that I told people that he liked to wear my underwear under his jeans. I can't think of anyone I've pissed off - except my children and Hot Guy - for months. So the revenge motive doesn't seem a very plausible explanation for the calls I've received.

So I'd appreciate an explanation, Zola, if that's really your name. Are you a complete idiot, a thoughtless schmuck or some kind of psychobitch?

Thanks for your time,

Jerseygirl

What do you guys think is going on? And what should I do about it?

How To Be An Asshole

The Ultimate Principle of Assholedom: There is no one else in the world but you.

Specific Rules to Help You Attain The Asshole Lifestyle:

1. Do not leave any space between yourself and the vehicle in front of you. Ever.

2. If you are walking on a busy sidewalk or store aisle and need to stop, it is imperative that you stop in the middle. Maximize the effects of this rule by making sure you are with at least two other people.

3. Never, ever, watch your children in a public play area, pool, restaurant or store.

4. When you come across a vehicle waiting for another vehicle to pull out of a parking space, make sure you cut around them and steal the space. Bonus points for indicating to the waiting vehicle that you only want to go around them.

5. Vote based on skin color, name or gender only.

6. Encourage your children to use derogatory slang for people with different religions, skin colors or races.

7. Ask pregnant women if they're having triplets.

8. Cut in line.

9. Park in handicapped and/or parents with infants parking spaces if you are able-bodied and/or your children are teenagers.

10. Be an Oakland Raiders fan (Chiefs and Broncos fans, you know what I'm talking about.)

11. Drive a Hummer.

12. Complain that your nanny only works ten hour days.

13. Oppose sex education that includes information on how to prevent STDs and pregnancy.

14. Talk about yourself in the third person.

15. Never flush a public toilet.

16. Be Dick Cheney.

17. For men only: wear a Speedo.

18. Always drive at least ten miles above the speed limit - regardless of weather, residential streets or nearby playgrounds.

19. Talk in your normal voice during movies.

20. Get a barbed wire tattoo around your bicep.

Now tell me, what did I forget?

I'm BA-ACK!!!!!!!!!!

We have returned. From Kansas. Which I will discuss momentarily.

First of all, thank you to my wonderful mother, who kept my blog going so that I could come home to wonderful comments and a decent sitemeter report.

Secondly, thank you to all of you who commented while I was gone. I would LOVE to go back and respond to each of your comments (especially you fantastic people who delurked for the first time!) but I don't know if I will since I have a few other things to do (satisfy my itchy blog fingers, read 8,000 blogs, unpack and put stuff away, put my Christmas stuff away, find places for the 8 million new toys the kids got, convince children to make thank you pictures, upload holiday photos, copyread some stuff, grocery shop, do laundry, answer emails. . . oh my god, just writing that list is enough to drive me to the couch).

Third, thank you to my dad for taking us to and picking us up from the airport. Hell is probably EXACTLY like driving to Newark Airport.

And now, let's talk about our trip.

(A quick preface: I love my in-laws. I really do. They love me and accept my city-girl attitude very well. They are wonderful people.)

On Sunday the 23rd, we flew from Newark Airport to Kansas City. It is a three hour flight. But we were delayed in the airport for six hours first. With a three year old and a 21 month old. Actually, though, they were AWESOME. Lovebug had one crying fit, which was solved when we put him in the stroller and rocked him to sleep. Tons of people came up to us and told us what great kids we had and what wonderful parents we were (not that I'm trying to brag or anything, of course). But I would like to thank all of those people, as well as the family whose elementary school aged boys played catch with my little ones and all of the kind people who smiled and talked to and entertained my kiddos. You all helped us survive that trip.

After landing at KCI (it was around 11 LOCAL time at this point), we were met by my sweet parents- and brother-in-law. Who drove us back to "the farm". (The farm is not actually a farm, as my in-laws don't farm or even keep animals. But they could if they wanted to. They live on a gravel road about twenty-five minutes from the nearest town.) An hour and a half away.

For Christmas Eve, we gathered at Hubby's aunt's house. My mother-in-law's side of the family is VAST. She has five siblings, all of whom had at least two children, most of whom also had at least two children. After a while, Lovebug and Ironflower grew overwhelmed so I took them to the guest room to play. And that was the party for us.

On Christmas Day, after the children doubled their toy haul, we went to the home of another of Hubby's aunts. This is my father-in-law's side, which is smaller and way more manageable. I actually know all of them. Anyway, Aunt Frankie was there and she was totally sweet to my kids. Maybe I should stop listening to family gossip. Ironflower and Lovebug had the best time playing with her grandsons.

Early the next morning, my brother-in-law went back to Chicago. And we were trapped.

Because we flew there, we had no car. Because of some tickets Hubby got as a teenager, he is still blocked from his parents' insurance policy (my mother-in-law can hold a grudge) so Hubby couldn't drive his parents' car. . Because I did not want to learn how to drive on icy gravel roads in someone else's car, I couldn't drive his parent's car. Because my mother-in-law had to go to work, some days there wasn't even a car for my father-in-law to drive us in. So there we were, carless in the country.

And with no internet. And barely any cell-phone reception. And hardly any water, because they haul their water and I was afraid of them running out. Which they did on Sunday, so Hubby and his dad had to take care of all that. And it was so cold that we only could play outside once. And even then it was only for half an hour.

We didn't leave the farm for four days. On Saturday we went into town with my father-in-law, which was fun. Even though all we did was go to the super-market and out to lunch.

Sunday was my night to see a few of my friends.

To be continued. . . .

A Public Service Announcement from Jerseygirl89

Most people know not to utter racial or sexual slurs, at least not in public. Most people refrain from insulting people's looks or fashion choices to their faces. Most people understand the rules of civilized society.

But for some reason they think that those rules don't apply to pregnant women.

"You're so big!" they say with a smile. "Are you having twins?" they ask sweetly. "Looks like you're having a linebacker!" they exclaim cheerfully.

Would they say those things if someone was just fat? I think not.

I am short. And what little height I do have is in my legs. The space between my hip bone and my bottom rib fits nothing larger than a four month fetus. So when I was pregnant, I went from barely noticeable to needing maternity clothes very quickly. And then I had good-sized babies. So by the end of each pregnancy I was a freaking HOUSE. And I knew this. I mean, it's hard not to notice when you've turned into such a water buffalo that half of your maternity clothes don't fit.

Yet people still felt compelled to comment on my size. And I was too exhausted (I actually got more sleep after my babies were born that I did for the final months of my pregnancies) and too emotional (pregnancy hormones and all) to react properly. Because all I would say is, "Yeah, I know, right."

So, essentially, I let those rude people get away with disrespecting me. So, to those of you who are currently pregnant, DON'T LET THEM DO IT.

Here are some appropriate responses:

1. Did you just call me fat?
2. My baby and I are healthy, thank you so much for inquiring.
3. You're so tall/short/fat/thin/old!
4. Bless your heart, you're so rude.
5. Are you trying to hurt my feelings, or are you just stupid?
6. It's okay to keep some thoughts to yourself, you know.
7. The doctor says I'm as big as I'm supposed to be.

And for all of you who feel compelled to make comments about pregnant women's sizes, SHUT UP.

This has been a Public Service Announcement brought to you the SO BIG Pregnant Women's Foundation of America.

Bless Their Hearts

I realize that I might be slightly cranky. My lungs are trying to escape through my throat, I have my period and I've got 48 hours to make my house spotless (relatives coming). So I might be a bit more short-tempered than normal. That's why I'm not actually printing these notes and putting them under windshields, I'm just posting them here.

Dear Bitches Driving Lexus SUVs,

1.If the posted speed limit is 35mph and I am driving 38mph, GET OFF MY ASS. You will not make me go faster, all you will do is endanger the lives and well-being of our children should there be an accident. And please remember that while my car may be cheaper than yours, it is better made. When you rear-end me, your car will suffer more.

2. When you are making a left turn at an intersection, you are not allowed to turn whenever you feel like it. The oncoming cars have the right of way - especially if you're the second car in the left turn lane. Just because I can brake doesn't mean I should have to brake, mmmmmmkay?

3. Your Ugg boots/Burberry Wellingtons are ugly.

Have a great day,
Jerseygirl89


Dear Very Old Denizens of the Reformed Church,

1. The parking lot has an entrance and an exit. They don't change from week to week. And if, by chance, you do wind up trying to exit at the entrance, could you please stay to the side instead of blocking the entrance at 8:58 am on a nursery school day?

2. Would it kill you to wave back at my son?

Thank you,
Jerseygirl89

Dear Leader of the Free World,

1. Please stop saying "Support the troops." If you wanted us to support the troops, you would have made sure they ALL went over there with the proper equipment. And you would have made sure that veteran's hospitals were well-funded. And you would have made sure that the department of veteran's affairs had a computer system that allowed veteran's to get their benefits in a timely fashion. And you would have sent them over there with a plan that included an exit strategy and some idea of the potential problems that would erupt without a dictator.

2. Please make one speech that justifies your foreign policy without using the word "terror" or the phrase "9-11".

Patriotically,
Jerseygirl89

Jerseygirl's Signs Of The Coming Apocalypse

You think I'm joking, don't you? Hah.

1. A teacher in the Sudan is going to be publicly whipped because she and her class named her teddy bear Mohammed. (No really. Headline News said so.)

2. Marie Osmond. Doll costume. Public. (This is why I don't watch Dancing with the Stars. But I know about it because of. . .Headline News.)

3. YouTube banned a video montage of women breastfeeding. (Wouldn't even have it in the adult section. See here and here for more explanation.)

4. VH1 and Dr.Drew have teamed up to create a new reality show - celebrity rehab. (When "Celebrity Bowel Movements" starts - and it will - I'm heading for the desert.)

5. Serendipity III in Manhattan serves a $25,000 dessert. (And it's not even car-sized.)

6. Bratz Dolls. (I wouldn't be surprised if each doll had a tramp stamp.)

7. People who have nannies for each child. (If there are more employees in your house than family members you have too much money. Start a foundation, for God's sake.)

8. Nicole Ritchie is procreating. (For someone that skinny to ovulate must have been an act of God. And not a happy God, either.)

9. I actually liked Stacy London's (she the catty bitch on What Not To Wear) new talk show.

10. The writer's strike. (First they got rid of the intellectuals in the government. Next they get rid of the intellectuals in the entertainment industry. Who is next? Will I get thrown off the parent committee for reading Alison Weir?)