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Gainfully EmployedToday
So today I had this big post planned about how people who interview you for a job and tell you they'll call you either way and then never do even when you call them a week later and leave a message SUCK ASS.

Then I was going to start in about how Jerry's working overtime is coming to an end and I don't think all of our stuff is going to fit into my car, even though it has an amazing built in tent and stuff.

After that I was going to complain that all I want is to go get a grande soy sugar free cinnamon dolce latte once a week without feeling guilty. I'd even go Americano, they're cheaper.

But you know what happened then? The people who never called, did. They told me this position had the most interviews of any opening they'd had before. They said I had EXCELLENT references (which they sounded really surprised by, wtf?), and they offered me the job at the highest paying rate I've ever received in my life.

Then I lost control of my bladder.



I never thought I'd be this excited about having a job, but these past few months have been looong. I am not good at staying at home. Granted, I'd definitely enjoy it more if we were in a position to be a single income family, but we aren't. These kids just keep eating for some reason.

I simply am not made to be a SAHM. I'm barely mommy material, much less have the capacity for the sacrifice and patience I've seen in other SAHM's. I'm lazy, easily frustra













My Tale of WoeYesterday
The last month has been exhilarating. I did what I wanted without a care in the world. I knew it was coming to an end soon, but I refused to think about that. Now reality has set in.



Jerry and I had lapsed in our new life as non-smokers.



We quit again New Years Eve.




I have gained 7 pounds.




I am second only to Satan himself in evil thoughts and general crankiness.



Surely Satan is cranky.



Betcha he smokes too. Asshole.



I am a fat, cranky, non-smoker.




Don't congratulate me, tell me I can do it, or any other of that crap.



I won't care, I won't want to hear it.




I LIKE SMOKING.



I MISS IT.




It just really sucks ass that continuing to do so will kill me, so I have to stop.



Ugh.







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JerryDecember 31 2008
At the beginning of a new year I like to reflect on the positives in my life. This is the 9th year in a row that Jerry, my husband is at the top of the list (despite the fact that I just had to ask him what year we started dating . . . which seems to have really pissed him off).

There are times I would just as soon kick him in the shin as look at him. Lucky for him, those times are far and few between. Most of the time, I feel like the lucky one.

Often he'll mention that before he and I were together, I had a life. I had friends, I had money, I went out and had fun. Then I met him, and became "saddled" with an instant family. Sometimes, to my regret, I agree. Being a stepmother, sometimes even being a wife, is a thankless job. It occasionally sucks ass to give everything, heart and soul, to kids that will never understand the sacrifices I've made out of love for them. To them, I will always come in second.

It sometimes pisses me off when I want to be on the internet, or read, or just do what I want to do, but can't, because my husband needs attention, or needs help, or wants to do something else.

The thing is, what Jerry has yet to understand, is that he saved me. He's heard the stories of parties, nights at the bar, and blowing my paycheck at Macy's. What he hasn't heard, are the stories of lying in bed for days at a time. Sitting at home alone, wishing like hell I'd get a phone call, a visit, anything to remind me that I wasn't totally alone. Even when surrounded by friends, and people that I truly love, I was still in this thing all by myself.

In meeting Jerry, and becoming his wife, I've found someone, one of the few people in the world, that GETS ME. We have the same ridiculous sense of humor, we can still have conversations like real people that have nothing to do with kids, nor home, nor hearth. He is one of the most amazing, intelligent, funny people I've ever known. I am grateful everyday for him (when I don't want to kick him that is.)

While we were still just friends, Jerry helped me move once. My friend Melissa had taken some pictures, and when I saw them I was furious. "Could none of you assholes have told me about the significant amount of cellulite on the backs of my thighs?" Jerry responded with "Yeah, that was the first time I saw you in shorts, and I thought about how unfortunate that someone as hot as you are had that problem." When someone can be truthful about your faults, and tell you you're hot at the same time? I trust him. I trust with everything I have, everything I am. I am lucky enough to wake up everyday next to my best friend in the world.

Now then.

Just so we don't get too mushy here, I recently decided to fine the boys 50ยข every time they said "diarrhea". Jerry gave me $50 and spent the rest of the day serenading me with repeated rounds of "Diarrhea! Cha-Cha-Cha!" You see, in addition to being the most perfect man in all the world for me, he's also a complete jackass.























That's Right, I Did It. Now I'm Writing About ItDecember 27 2008

I've had a couple of offers to do reviews on this blog before, and my response has always been a resounding NO. I'm no sales person, and I hate feeling obligated. However recently I was contacted by Eden Fantasys, an online sex toy retailer (I know. They're spelling 'Fantasies' wrong, and it drives me crazy).

Yes, I said sex toys.

My initial reaction was 'No Way", however when I clicked over and saw a chick hanging brightly colored vibrators as Holiday decorations, I knew I had to do it. If I'm hawking dildos, it's gonna be for a company with a sense of humor.

The one and only advantage to having two dead parents, is that one might feel free to write reviews about sex toys without worrying about killing said parents in the process. For the rest of you: the in-laws, the step-son, the siblings, and all others that really don't want to know me this well, stop reading now. I'm asking you nicely, because I really feel more comfortable discussing my vagina and it's activities with strangers. For the rest of this post, I take no responsibility for your feelings of creepiness.


Now then.

I feel I should begin by stating that flying solo isn't something I normally do. A large part of my sexuality is in the give and take, the response of my husband. But











Electric Sex In The WindowDecember 23 2008
I tend to write an awful lot about my more 'eccentric' neighbors, but the truth is, most of the folks on my street are very nice people. Of course my next door neighbor Leann (who reads and occasionally comments here) and her family, and our neighbors on the other side are also really good people.

Then there is an older couple across the street. They appear to be nice people, when we see them we wave hello, but that's about the extent of our current relationship. Now these people don't know it, but they are my new best friends. I'm gonna start baking them cookies and we'll do each other's nails and I'll be at their house all the time and we are going to be BFF's 4-evah!

What have these unsuspecting stalking victims new best friends do to deserve my newly discovered affection for them? They didn't rescue my child or a pet, they didn't save my house from burglars or fire, they simply put this up in their window:



Lucky for you, I got this shot before my new BFF's called the cops. Isn't that funny? There