Have I got a "job" for you...

I know! I totally suck. I haven’t been able to come up with a damned thing to write about lately. Things have been pretty stressful in the b house lately – financial worries are taking over, and it’s hard to think about anything else.

And work has been making me crazy. As always, I will say how much I love my job and love Awesome Company, but I have recently been given a new task and I hate it. No really, I HATE IT. As in, makes me sick to my stomach with dread hate. As in finding 100 other things to do instead of this task hate. As in, if they gave me the choice of scrubbing the building’s bathrooms or doing this task, I’d be all, WHERE’S THE BUCKET, BITCHES??


So anyway.


Oh, get this. Mr b has his resume out on monster, etc. The other day, he got an email from some bullshit company (I am not saying the name), about a job. The job title was an acronym that had something to do with construction (I can’t remember), so he thought it was legit and checked it out. It was clear from the first look that it was bullshit – mainly because it went on about how much you can earn and no real job does that shit. But we read it anyway, because we’re easily entertained. He ignored it and then they contacted him again, with more information about “the job.” I use quotes because…well…you’ll see. It said that they were an “organization” (no type of organization, nothing about what they are, what they do, etc, just an organization), and they deal with “donations.”

They said that the position they were looking to fill was made up of “tasks.” These “tasks” would be emailed to him. The “tasks” would involve processing “donations” to their organization. And by processing, they mean picking up the “donation” and if it is in check or money order – are you ready? – CASHING IT AND DISTRIBUTING THE CASH TO THEIR “SPONSORS!!”

Do you now understand the need for all the quotes?

Once we got done laughing, we searched for the “organization” online – nothing. Not one search engine was able to locate anything about this “organization” - and we tried them all and tried every variation of keywords you can think of. And yet, in their email, they included a link to their site – it’s a generic website claiming that they are a nonprofit, nondenominational housing organization which provides low cost housing around the world to low-income people and people who have been affected by disasters. Now why would nothing come up in a Google search? Perhaps because they don’t want to be found? What donation-accepting, non-profit, charitable organization doesn’t want to be found??

Mr b just deleted it, but I wanted to send a reply thanking them for their interest, but declining their generous offer of employment in their MONEY LAUNDERING ORGANIZATION.

Oh, also? They misspelled “travel.” That would have been enough even without the illegal activity.

Thursday Thirteen

Thirteen Unanswerable Questions

1. Why is it that the one pocket that you neglect to check before doing laundry is the one that contains the bright red lipstick?

2. Why can’t I get motivated?

3. Where do all the socks go?

4. Why can’t my mother learn to not talk to me with an accusing tone? “Hey, what’s up?” works so much better than “Where were you?!?! I’VE BEEN CALLING ALL DAY!?!?!?!?!”

5. How many hours can a 12 year old spend on Runescape before his brain completely melts?

6. Is it really that hard to pick up your underwear from the bathroom floor?

7. How can a child love to clean, and beg to wash dishes and scrub bathrooms, and yet have full-body convulsions at the thought of cleaning up her own room?

8. WTF??

9. Why, when I am on Facebook, do I find myself thinking “Jesus, he/she is always on!” even though the hypocrisy is crystal clear?

10. What are the winning powerball numbers?

11. What happened to that Old Granddad that Hedge and I left in the bushes in 1985?

12. Why can’t chocolate chocolate chip cheesecake ice cream be made of protein and fiber and magic, instead of fat and sugar and evil?

13. How in the hell did I manage to delete #13?

Weirdest Google Ever

Normally, I just get the regular google searches, clearly from folks loking for somehting they have previously read. Sometimes they make it clear that my style of writing is not particularly...um...high class (see: "gina shitting," "debauchery," and "dirty sanchez"). I get a few odd ones, too, like "uphill no pants," "lie to me shit terrible bad," "sexy fat tinis," "my son cant lick his top lip," and "big fat pussty." But recently I had the weirdest and most detailed search ever:

"i tried to send this to you last night but my computer was not working properly. i just got home and as always, you're on my mind. my room smells like you. i lay here thinking about how incredible it is to feel you in"

WTF??

Top Ten Tuesday

Ten things that helped lift the funk a little this weekend:

1. Seeing Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I have been waiting for what seems like forever for this to come out. My friend C and I had a no kids, movie, appetizers and beer day on Saturday and it was awesome. I made the mistake of re-re-reading the book right before seeing it though, and that made the changes a little more glaring. I mean – there are always book to movie changes, especially when the book and so much crammed into it. And I am fine with most of the changes/omissions (although a few leave me wondering about how they will handle certain storylines in the next one). But there are a couple of things that bugged me. I won’t spoil it in case you haven’t seen it yet (or even give a shit), but there was something added that wasn’t in the book, something taken out of the book and a couple things changed from the book that I felt didn’t really make sense. If you’ve seen it, you’ll probably know what I am talking about. I can’t wait to discuss it with someone else (C hadn’t read the book).

2. Mr b taking the boy and a friend to see Nickelback. I’m not sure why this cheered me up, but I think it had to do with the fact that a) the boy loved it, b) mr b was the one carting kids around for once, c) mr b (and not me) was the one waiting in the lines of death when they didn’t open the gates until over an hour later than promised, d) mr b (and not me) had to be the one to react to the boob-flashing, e) mr b (and not me) was the one that had to sit though 3 bands that he hated, and f) the boy loved it.

3. Beer

4. My teeny little grape tomatoes are finally starting to ripen. I don’t even eat tomatoes, but I am usually a green thumb fail, so yay me. Plus, the girl loves them and is thrilled.

5. Chocolate chocolate chip cheesecake ice cream.

6. Joining the Disney Photo Challenge group on flickr. I am having so much fun with this. I don’t even care that I only got one vote so far. It’s my Happy Place and it’s cheering me up.

7. Watching old episodes of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. This show is fucking funny. Those who prefer highbrow, intelligent comedy, are uber PC, or are easily offended should definitely not watch. But the rest of us assholes? Must See TV.

8. My kids greeting each other with big hugs after a night apart. I will pretend that the “Stop it, No you stop it, You’re a butthead, No you are” follies didn’t start up shortly after said hugs.

9. Kay and Ray’s obnoxiously expensive, yet exceedingly delicious, Dark Potato Chips

10. Did I mention beer?

In a Funk

First off, I have a post up over at my Constance. It’s been such a long time, you’ve probably forgotten all about Constance, haven’t you? If you need a reminder – feel free to comment or email. As this blog becomes more public, I sometimes need the option of having a more personal place to talk.
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Anyway - I’m in a bit of a funk. Not sure why exactly, but I think there are a lot of things contributing to it. I’m so much in a funk that I haven’t even been getting mad at the douchebags and assholes. I know - what is up with that??
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I love Awesome Company, but I recently was given on endless, ongoing task that I hate and that is making it very hard for me to stay chipper during working hours. It’s weird - I am usually pretty hard to discourage when it comes to work stuff, but this is like some kind of allergy or something. I cringe at the thought. But I work for the best company in the world ever for the best bosses in the world ever and I just need to suck it up and get over it. But it definitely weighs on me and I am sure it’s contributing to the funk.
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You know how there are old boyfriends/girlfriends in your past that you still think about? I mean, not that you still want them or anything, but we all play the remember when/what if game - it’s human nature. Well, anyway, I have discovered a couple recently on facebook. One just joined a Sarah Palin love group. Cue needle across record sound. Dreamy, lovesick memories replaced by “EWWWWWWWWW!”.
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Oh, and speaking of old boyfriend, I have noticed a disturbing trend of many of my old boyfriends starting to look like K-Fed. I’m not sure what this means, but it can’t be good.
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Help get me out of the funk – tell me something funny, make me laugh, ask me a question so I have something to write about. Anything to ward off the funk!!

It's 2 AM - I can't think up a title

I had an impromptu Take Your Daughter to Work Day on Friday. For some reason, Thursday night, she decided she wanted to go to work with me the next day, and started asking to go. I am usually very good at No. I can be the terrible, horrible, no good very bad mom. The mean mom. No. No. No. I can deny my child all the really awesome things in life that the other kids are doing, like knife-throwing and dog-painting and Molotov cocktails, and not blink an eye. But somehow, when she started begging to go, looking all cute and shit, my resolve went all to hell and I gave in. I managed to hold on to mean mom status until the morning at least, but when she jumped out of bed at the crack of dawn and started looking for “something nice to wear to the office,” I was done. Since it was a short summer Friday and the office was practically empty, it was a good day to do it.

She wanted to hit Lulu’s afterward, and as lovely as that would have been, I wanted to get the hell out of the city while the getting was good, so I traded her a Lulu’s for some cheese fries and a movie. We went to see Ice Age 3, and I almost fell asleep I the beautiful stadium seating, reclining chair, air-conditioned heaven.

Then on the way home, we stopped at an ice cream place that I have been driving past every single day for eleven years on my way to and from work and discovered that they have Dole Whip! You have no idea what this means to me. Dole Whip is the treat of my Happy Place and I have never seen it outside of there. I simultaneously celebrated the discovery and lamented the thousands of delicious pineapple-y treats I have missed out on over the years. I’m in trouble. My ass is in trouble.

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The boy is home from scout camp and was very proud to show off his trophy from the biggest fish competition. Out of 400+ people, he had the biggest catch of the week – a big fat, 18 ¾ inch large mouth bass. He broke the (troop for sure – maybe camp) record and also had the 2^nd and 3^rd largest. He was magic this week, apparently. I was so happy for him. He also earned 3 more merit badges, had a great time, and despite being certified to use both fire and a knife, came home with all the appendages he left with. Even better, all my towels came home this year. WIN!

I’ll just let you go ahead and imagine how many times he showered in the six days he was there, though.

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I spent about a week trying to get the Dayman song from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia out of my head. Do you watch this show? It’s seriously one of the funniest things I have ever seen. Of course, I like trashy, stupid, raunchy un-PC comedy, so it’s right up my alley. So at first I was singing Nightman, but it’s not that catchy, and Dayman is. Plus the Dayman is the master of karate and friendship for everyone, so what’s better than that, right? But after 6 days of singing it, I was driving myself crazy because no matter what else I listened to or sang, I could not get it out of my head. Until this morning, when something else made it’s way in and sent the Dayman packing. Good, right? Yeah – not so much:

You’re welcome.

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Finally, right before she went to bed tonight, the girl was listening to her dad practice guitar with his new Neil Young song book. And she came out with her guitar to sing me “her new song”

I will get back to actual blogging right after I bore you with photos

We crammed a lot into an 8-day stretch.

We had the 4th of July celebration:


The girl in the July 4th (OK, 3rd) bike parade and contest. She took 3rd:


The boy in his first parade:


There was a baptism:


And a birthday party:




And we got a family photo taken for my Grandma's 90th birthday (and then went to lunch dressed like the idiot family. Burgh Baby was "lucky" enough to witness us in our full dorky glory).

The whole gang:


Generations:


Gram and her great-grandkids:


My kids are getting so big!


And then there was grandma's party (I can't believe she's 90):


The grandkids pitched in on 90 yellow roses (her favorite) and a bunch of scratch offs (which she loves):

The kids had fun dancing and playing games:






The girl serenaded us with a couple songs (Taylor Swift, of course). She's a born performer.

Walmart is a Dick

We are having a big party this weekend for my grandma’s 90th birthday. It’s going to be huge, since we have a large family and she has lots of friends, plus we have invited lots of people from “the old days.” She used to own a bar, and people came from all over to hang out and have a good time. Her customers ranged from just local folks, to politicians, to professional athletes. Not many of them are around any more, but those who are, are coming and bringing their families. Even after she no longer had the bar, she tended bar elsewhere for year, so she’s got a large social circle.

Anyway, in addition to food and alcohol and bingo and cards and fun games and prizes for the kids, one of the things we wanted to have was a slide show of photos through the years. We changed our minds, though since it will be sunny (the party is at a local park) and we won’t be able to see it so I decided I would do a photo board and an album. I gathered up old photos from everyone in the family and intended to scan them and make multiple prints, so anyone who wanted a copy could have one.

My scanner at home was broken (I used the wrong power cord and it smoked and popped), so I figured it would be faster t take them to #Wal-Mart anyway and do them on the machine there. Oh how wrong I was. First off, it was actually slower than using a home scanner. Each photo took about 2 minutes to scan. And I had a ton of photos. I sat there for 2 ½ hours scanning. Two and a half hours! All the while silently cursing Wal-Mart, Kodak, Wal-Mart employees, other customers, the PA system, the PA system announcer, stupid cell phone ringtones, Phil Collins, and myself (for being so stupid as to think that Wal-Mart would be anything but hell on earth).

But finally, I was done scanning. Then, of course I had to go through each photo and select my number of prints, plus do any editing, cropping, etc. Which was another million hours. But I got that done and was ready to print. When I started, I saw the sign on the machine that said, “After you print your photos, get them on a disk.” I figured I would do just that, since there were some I wanted to restore, plus I’d have them for future prints if anyone wanted them. But when I tried to order a dick, it wouldn’t let me. I asked the woman working there about it and she snottily told me that I had to do the disk first and that I would have to scan them again is I wanted one. I pointed out the sign that said “After you print your photos, get them on a disk,” and she sighed like I was such a terrible inconvenience to her and said (even more snottily), “You should, have asked me before you started. You’ll have to scan them again!” Ummm…No thanks.

I figured I’d just print them and worry about scanning them again later, once I had a scanner that doesn’t smell like electrical fire. So after another 17 hours of waiting for my prints, I was finally done. I took the photos up to the counter with my charge slip (the machine prints one telling the number of prints), and the woman working there (the first bitch was on her break by this time), takes my photos and proceeds to go through all 110 prints, one by one. I was wondering what she was doing, since normally, they throw them in an envelope and ring you up. Turns out, she was pulling out all the “illegal” photos.

You are probably already aware that you can’t take your photos from a studio and reproduce them on a machine. I knew that too. I wouldn’t dream of taking my kids’ photos from Picture People and getting cheap copies made (well, I’d dream of it, since they are so freaking expensive, but I wouldn’t do it because I know I am not allowed). The one time I had a photo I needed a copy of, it was one that was actually taken at Wal-Mart. It was my favorite photo of my son and mine had gotten damaged. Since it was 9 years old, the studio didn’t have it any longer, so they gave me a release form and I was able to copy my mother’s. No problem.

But these photos? These illegal, professional, studio photos that she refused to let me print without a release form signed by the photographer? Were from 1935 to 1945. Nineteen motherfucking thirty-five!!! How in God’s name do they suppose I am going to get a release form? I mean, if my 90 year old grandmother was a teen in these photos, I think it’s a pretty good bet that the photographer is dead by now (not that I would have any idea who he was anyway). I should go back with a fucking Ouija board.

Of course she gave me the spiel about how it’s not her rule, but Wal-Mart’s rule, blahblahblah, but give me a break. Also? Wal-Mart is a dick.


Anyway, I got a couple of the professional ones scanned on my cousin’s scanner and have started working on restoring them (which OMG takes forever).

This is the one going on the cake (I didn’t get it restored yet):




Here is gram with my mom and Aunt Twin:




And here it is before I started restoring it: