The Cleaning Lady: Part I- My Household Has Fallen Apart
I fired the cleaning lady. Or rather, she fired me. After 10 years. TEN YEARS! Why? Because she thought I should pay her more than $20/hour and she was thinking that I owed her that. That’s cash. That’s how much I earn. Almost. But she also started acting angry by shrinking all our clothes, breaking things, and leaving dirty wee — wee pads in Chloe’s room. So we decided to part ways.
I didn’t grow up with a cleaning lady. My mother, taught me to clean, every other weekend, my room, the bathroom, the laundry, etc. Aside from typing class, learning to clean properly was my most valuable life lesson (right after learning French kissing). So I figured I could handle a tiny two bedroom apartment.
The 6 Legged Octopus: Hexapus
AOL’s top News Story on Tuesday’s Home Page: they found a 6 legged octopus. Am I the only one who feels like saying: “who the fuck cares?” The poor thing has a birth defect. Let it go eat clams in peace. For God’s sakes, is it really worth 24 hours on AOL’s HOME PAGE??? Am I over-reacting?
The Kiss, Part IV: It Happened to ME—Or Was it to HER?
“I only have to worry about two dicks, YOU have to worry about ALL of them”. Matt K. father of twin boys to mother of teenage daughter, Feb 29, 2008
I will not be that dumb mother who, one day finds out that her teenage daughter has been hiding a boy under the bed. Nope, that is not, going to be me, nope never. Remember, I’m the mother of WANTSTOBEKIST, the lip virgin. Bella tells me everything, yes she does, she does indeed.
This morning, the worst thing that could possibly happen to me was that noisy man in the freaking QUIET CAR disturbing the peace with his key pounding and the nasty man next to him who kept glaring at me because I was checking my cell phone voice mail. Yes, things to be BOTHERED by. And so, because my meeting in Phillie went well, I caught an early train back to NYC and I even had time to set down with a cup of tea and a big, fat bran muffin at SUBTLE TEA a mere 2 blocks from the apartment. Close and yet so far. Read the rest of this entry »
The Quiet Car
So Friday I had the pleasure of taking the Amtrak Acela Express down to Filthydelphia one of my favorite cities (but no more filthy than the big dirty apple—actually, for all it’s bad rap, and Rocky memories, a cleaner city than NY). But anyway, as I waited for the train to arrive, New Yorkers, true to form, in their most uncivilized fashion, swarmed the gate when the arrival of the train was announced. MOOOO, they sang out as they herded down the stairs. So many of us in fact, that the only car left with seats was THE QUIET CAR. THE QUIET CAR? What the fuck is a QUIET CAR. We’re in New York, God Dammit, no one is quiet in New York. No silence– ever.
“There is no talking in the quiet car, no cell phones, no coughing, no sneezing, no laughing, no noisemaking of any kind,” warns the conductor. “We have three cell phone friendly cars in front of the train.” You mean, where there are no seats? Where the cows have congregated? Read the rest of this entry »
The Medical Reason I Don’t Exercise…At LAST!
Ok, so I HATE those little freaking TV sets in cabs. You can’t help but look at them, and I’ll tell you I want to vomit from the car sickness because of the insanity that is cab driving in NYC. But the eye, like moth to a light, just watches because it’s THERE.
But today, TODAY I was Goddamn thankful for that insipid little screen because GUESS WHAT? There is a MEDICAL REASON I don’t Read the rest of this entry »
The Kiss Part III: Boredumb
Can you shoot me and put me out of my misery? A real conversation between Bella and me. (Bella, 14, me, much, much younger)
Her: I am really BOOOORED.
Me: Why are you bored?
Her: There’re no boys in my school.
Me: None? Out of 500 boys, there are NONE?
Her: None that I’m interested in except Dumb Boy. Maybe I’ll just go over and kiss him.
Me: That’s great.
Her: I don’t even know if you were a slut in high school.
Me: Ah, thanks. I wasn’t. But I did have a boyfriend when I was fifteen. The problem is, you guys don’t have parties. That’s where I met guys. It was all natural. Not some forced thing.
Her: We do. But you have to be cool enough to be invited.
Me: So, why don’t you have a birthday party?
Her: I would be a legend.
Me: You would be a LEGEND? Isn’t that great?
Her: Well all the stoners would come and bring drugs.
Me: HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Read the rest of this entry »
New Office Policy
For a variety of reasons that basically make my brain hurt, I love this little email… Don’t you?
NEW OFFICE POLICY EFFECTIVE March 1, 2008
Dress Code:
1) You are advised to come to work dressed according to your salary.
2) If we see you wearing Prada shoes and carrying a Gucci bag, we will assume you are doing well financially and therefore do not need a raise.
(However, if I came to work dressed like this, I would think my employer would have more things to worry about, like me dropping dead from not eating or OD’ing on Cocaine )