Sunday, July 31, 2011

Completely Random Thoughts & More

A couple of weeks back, I told Spouse that I needed to start carrying around a notebook, so that when completely random stuff happens, I have a place to write it down, so I remember to blog about it later. So I got one- it's purple, it sparkles, and I used holographic glitter nail polish to 'paint' a heart on the front.

And I never put it in the Old & Busted purse. But, it's nestled safely in the Rocking purse now, so we're good. However, Friday night that left me shit out of luck when I was twitchy as fuck at the movie theater and needing to write ideas down.

See, I woke up at noon on Thursday. I have insomnia and no job, don't judge me. I went to sleep at 11am Friday. I woke up at 1:30pm Friday. Yes, that's like 2 and a half hours of sleep. So Friday night when we decided to go see a movie, I sucked down an energy drink. On an empty fucking stomach, because SPOUSE said we'd splurge and get PRETZELS at the theater. But did we? Nooo.... "It's about the same price to just go out to dinner afterwards!" Fine.

What all that lead to, though? I was jittery and twitchy as fuck. I was like a 4 year old ADHD kid sitting in that theater. I couldn't stop fidgeting, moving, and fucking talking through out the entire damn movie. To the fellow movie goers? Sorry. To Spouse? Your fault, dude.

I found an old piece of paper and an ink pen, so I was able to write some shit down, though. Here's the start of the Random Ass Thoughts.


  • In the Battleship trailer, they fucking lost points for NOT saying, "You've Sunk My Battleship!"
  • The War Horse trailer felt like the horse was kind of a Ho. Kept moving on to new owners. May also have been concubine. Ponder-some.
  • When the theater was about half full, some crazy old woman with a 5" tall pompadour hair do sat IN. FRONT. OF. ME. There should be a LAW- find a seat that doesn't block someone behind you, unless it's FULL. See below for the photo evidence. Yes, I took a photo. 
  • Apparently, some Chinese couple keeps having kids, but turns around and black market sells those brats so they can afford to just sit around and play World of Warcrack all day. Genius. 
  • Olivia Wilde isn't as good looking as everyone thinks. Her square face is kind of flat, and she needs to do something with that hair to make of for/disguise her man-jaw. 
  • The phrase HOOSE COW is completely under utilized in this era. Seriously. It's awesome. Everyone says jail. Next time you text from the back seat of the PADDY WAGON, tell your friends you're on your way to the HOOSE COW.
And that was all thought up by the time the movie was 10 minutes in. I twitched, wiggled, fidgeted, and moved my way through the rest of the movie.

WTF woman! I like to SEE the movie screen, not your hair! And HA! Your theory at the end of the movie was COMPLETELY WRONG! 

After the movie, we went to Steak n Shake. Cheap meals, artery clogging food. Perfect. I used a menu to totally write down the GOLD NUGGET thoughts.

  • (After posting 12 photos to Facebook of the menu, meal, drinks, signs, etc) People are WTFing all ovr my facebook page right now. (photo evidence of that gem below)
  • Bug Spouse to record video for Blog Sand Crotch Micromachine (Hey, Spouse?? Yeah, could you do that? That would be super.)
  • Every thought that goes through my head should be minted, cuz it's GOLD!
  • Spouse should not be allowed out in public.
  • Straw wrappers should be weaponized.
  • We have a fundamental right to bear arms. In this case straws and not Bare Arms- also known as Guns, which of course is what bear arms mean. Huh. nifty word play.
  • Giant Angry Birds at Spouse's work- they have huge Angry Bird stuffed animals, and a big PVC sling shot, and shoot the birds at people. 
  • Knock Off LV Purse. Ok, when you buy a knock off purse, first of all, make sure it LOOKS real. Not faded, dying, and horrible. But also, if you plan to ROCK a fake purse, don't wear it with your size too small Walmart leggings, size too small DEB shirt, and your $1.00 flip flops. Seriously, no one is buying that shit.
  • And last but not least- MY HANDWRITING SUCKS!


You should be rewarded for getting through that post. Here's a Gold Star for you.




Saturday, July 30, 2011

Real Conversations: Snake Edition

Today, Minion 1 came in grinning from ear to fucking ear.

M1: Guess what's living under our shed?

Me: A family of rabbits. Have been for 2 years, ever since we put a hit out on the ground hog family.

M1: Nope. A snake. I saw him. Almost stepped on him. He's this long. (She held her hands about 2 8 feet apart)

Me: Tell your dad it's time to go snake hunting, cause that's what his job is.

Spouse: And what exactly am I supposed to do? Set fire to the shed?

Me: Works for me, but block the exits first, so they don't escape.

....realization dawns on me...

Me: SHIT! There's a HOLE in the bottom of the shed!! They could be LIVING IT UP in our Christmas Tree box!!

Spouse: Yep.

Me: DO SOMETHING!!!!



Now for a little background. A year after we bought this house, Spouse found a snake in the back yard, and made the mistake of telling me. I made him hunt around the yard for that little bitch, but he didn't find it. I may or may not have been ordering him around from a perch on top of our minivan. Yes, I used to drive a minivan, and now we drive fucking micromachines. Stop judging me.

Over the next few weeks, I saw 3 different ones (one was like 4 foot long, one was about 12 inches, the other was maybe 2 foot long). Screamed bloody murder each time. Neighbor G came over twice to hunt for the snakes. And also, I almost stepped on a dead one. No joke. Was walking out to the mail box, and happened to glance down about half a step from a dead one. SCREAMED bloody murder, about how it WASN'T FUNNY! Spouse had to fling it out of the yard before I'd go out to get the mail.

After the 3rd, I told Spouse that I was done, we would just give the place to the snakes, and move out. No harm, no foul, but not something I was going to live with. He felt differently. Selfish ass.

Instead, we opted to spread moth balls all over the yard. At the same time, our neighbor's outdoor cat started coming around more often. One morning, it started really tussling with something. Between the moth balls and the cat, we never saw another snake.

Until now. Spouse was lectured lovingly asked last time to NEVER FUCKING TELL ME AGAIN if he sees a snake in the yard, because then I was FUCKING PARANOID. I avoided the grass for WEEKS. I scurried from inside to the car.

It was hell.

Minion 1, on the other hand, knows of her mother's debilitating ascardedness (don't JUDGE me- it's a REAL WORD!) of snakes. She fucking took great glee in telling me there was one in the yard.

Spouse just sent me a message online (yes, same house, different rooms, we CHAT instead of actually, physically talk sometimes. You know what, I'm getting sick of you judging me.)

Spouse: You know I love and adore you and if I see the snake, I will totally stomp on it for you. Until then, we will continue to recruit our rag-tag group of snake-assassinating  kitties from the nearby neighborhood to do our dirty work for us, ok?

And that is why I fucking love him.

And also cause he buys me a LOT of shit I don't need, but have. to. have. Like leather, ruffly purses. And cameras made for bringing my insanity closer to you.

For your viewing pleasure (and not mine, cause NO FUCKING THANK YOU!):

I'm Officially Grown Up

Spouse took me shopping. I love shopping. Shopping is better than sex, sometimes. Oh hell, who am I kidding? Most of the time I'd prefer to shop.

We wound up at TJ Maxx. Usually, I don't shop there, but it has an outside door and a Mall door, and the parking in front of it is usually less busy. We found a P-R-I-M-O parking spot right up front, slide in like throwing a hot dog down a hallway, and walked through TJM.

I didn't even browse on the way into the mall, but on the way out, the purses caught my eye. About 6 years ago, almost exactly, I bought a purse at a Claire's outlet. High. Quality. It's a messenger bag, and the front flap features the Evil Queen from Snow White.

The inside of the front flap is purple, and then when you lift it, it says Evil Queen in purple glitter letters. I used it off and on for the past few years. I also used a black, no-name purse I found at Goodwill Couture. Again. High. Quality.

Well, last fall when I was spoiled with an iPad, I realized my Evil Queen purse had a big enough inside section to tote my iPad around with me if I wanted to. From there, I just stopped using other purses. Yes, I'm a grown ass woman carrying around a fucking cartoon character Disney messenger bag. Not exactly high class, and as we all know by now, I'm nothing if not High. Class. And also? The inside coating on the purse is flaking all over the fucking place. The liner on the front zipper flap is ripping. It's not long for the world. And also? When I wear it, it migrates to settle in right over my ass, making it 4x larger than it already is. Awesome.



I've been looking at purses for like 6 months, but my problems are this. A) I'm a cheap bitch. I want a good deal, and I don't think I should spend $50 on a purse. B) I'm a picky bitch. I want it to be -the- right size. Not too big, not too small, not too gaudy. and C) I want something kind of fashiony, and grown up, and less utilitarian like my grandmas all tote around.

I paused over a few different purses, but most were $35+. Several I liked were $80-120- and that was at the  TJ Maxx discount prices. Now I realize that if I walk into a place like Coach, I'd be in sticker shock. But this is TJ Fucking Maxx, not Coach.

I found a clearance bag, though, that I really liked. Then I saw the price, and decided It. Was. The. One.

It's a black leather Steve Madden purse. Sorry- Hand Bag. And it smells like a new car. Well, one with leather seats, anyway, cause it's Leather. Real leather. Not pleather. Not vinyl. It's leather. It's soft, and it has leather ruffles on it, and I. Fucking. Love. It.

And? When I'm rocking a kick ass outfit, I can stop stuffing my pockets with the shit I need, so that I'm not seen rocking a kiddy purse.


And the best part? It was only $21.20 after tax. I PUFFY HEART LUFFS IT!


Insomnia....

Maybe the internet is to blame?

Friday, July 29, 2011

Now with 25% More Drunk Video Blogs

My campaign to win over Spouse for a Bloggie Camera was victorious, and my little pink beauty is now on it's way. I plan to have lots of fun drunk posts. And several other posts- like crack conversations while driving. And shit.

It should arrive next week, just in time for a long fun weekend with way too many relatives. And shit.

You'll love it. I hope.

Planking is big. Who knew?

When I posted some images of dumbass people sticking their heads in toilets, I had no idea how it would effect my page. Turns out, a lot of people want to see people planking. I have yet to come across anyone who does a websearch for Toilet Planking, and finds me. But, I have come across several dozens of other searches that find me. Fucking planking seems to be the most popular. Really. As of today, 28 people found me for "Awesome Planking" and another couple dozen found me on assorted planking phrases. I'm totally feeding their obsession with this post. I know, right?

I don't know if they are using it as a curse word, or if people really want to see two people planking while getting their dirty on. Hmm.

I did a quick search, and did find a few photos that fit the latter. However, I'll spare your eyes. Mine already regret it.



Thursday, July 28, 2011

RIP Rod.... Remembering Rod.

Several years back, my family met a guy named Rod. He was a good friend... a real party animal. And now, he's gone. We've missed him for a while now, but we're still hoping to find his replacement. If anyone can help replace Rod, let me know!










Real Conversations: Dream Life Edition

Here's a totally real conversation with Spouse that I never really had.

Me: Spouse?

Spouse: Yes, Loving Wife?

Me: If I die in the zombie invasion, will you post to me blog, so everyone knows, and doesn't worry about me?

Spouse ......

Me: Please? I don't know if I could rest in pieces (ha.... get it? Cause, as a zombie, I'd start losing chunks of skin, and body parts would rot off) if I knew my blog friends were worried about me.

Spouse: .....

Me: If YOU die in the zombie Apocalypse, I will totally tell your big ass blog all about it. I'll even post photos, so that they know that shit's real.

Spouse: I don't even know what to say.


See... I made all that shit up as I typed, but I'm pretty sure as Spouse reads this, he'll be doing exactly what I typed he'd be doing. I know him that well after 15 8 our 2 years together.

Somebody call 9-1-1....

WTF is the rest of that song? You know what, never mind, it doesn't matter. My only association with the song is that dumb movie FRED, which Minion 3 LOVES.

So here's a "hypothetical" conversation for ya'll.

Phone: BLANK County 911, what's your emergency?

Me: Shit!

Me: (scrambles to locate phone in pants pocket)

Phone: Hello?

Me: Hey... sorry about that, I stepped on my phone in my pants, and accidentalness (dude- spell check fucked with me on accidentally and gave me THAT word, so it stays!) dialed... something.

Phone: Hello? Is anyone there?

Me: (realizes that it's also on Speaker, and my hand is COVERING the speaker part). Oh, hey, yep, I'm here. Sorry! Took my pants off, cat darted through, I stepped on phone in the pocket of my patns, it started dialing... my bad!

Phone: So there's no emergency?

Me: Nope!

Phone: Are you speaking freely? Are you being coerced into saying there is no emergency?

Me: No, totally free. Sooooo sorry about that!

Phone: Have a good day Ma'am.


....Ok, take the hypothetical out of the conversation, and that shit really happened. He really did call me Ma'am. WTF, dude. I still get carded, AND the people do it because they honestly think I'm not old enough to drink the good shit. Seriously. It's kind of funny.

The only times I've talked to 911 were both times when Minion 1 accidentally called that shit as a baby. The one time, we didn't eve realize it until they called back to find out what the emergency was. Boy was that a fun call. "No, really. I didn't dial 9-1-1. My 9 month old baby was playing with the phone. No, really!"

I don't even know how the hell it got to 911. According to my call history, I dialed 8. And for that matter, the keypad is a slider, and wasn't slid out. Huh. Pondersome.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Asperger's Syndrome, or, What's Ass Burger Syndrome?, part 1


As·per·ger's syn·drome

  
[as-per-gerz]
–noun Psychiatry .
a developmental disorder characterized by severely impaired socialskills, repetitive behaviors, and often, a narrow set of interests;now considered one of the autism Spectrum Disorders.


When Minion 2 was about 2 years old, we realized he was... let's just be safe and go with the term "different". He was a very difficult child to manage. He was an escape artist, and could unlock dead bolts, chain locks, windows, and more. Baby gates were no match for his super ninja baby skills.

When he was 3, we had some issues with him escaping the house. It was a blink of the eye type thing. I'd walk into the kitchen, refill his sippy cup, and he was out the door. Minion 2 was kind of a boy genius in many regards.

After Minion 3 was born, she displayed a lot of the same traits as Minion 2. Not all of them were the same, but there were serious oddities, none the less. When M2 was probably 6, we started to seriously look at it. M3 was about 3 at the time. The reason we hadn't looked at it earlier, was we felt that it was likely just ADHD, and we didn't want to rely on medications until they were necessary.

When he was 5 in Kindergarten, towards the end of the school year, the teacher approached me and asked if we have any difficulties with him at home. Of course we do, I told her. He's into everything, he's very high spirited, and while he listens, and knows there are consequences, he's extremely impulsive, and tends to just do what comes to mind the moment it comes to mind, without thinking ahead to what will happen.

She explained to me that for almost the entire school year now, he's been so difficult to manage in class, that he spent a good deal of time every day sitting by himself in the hall. I was floored. We'd talked dozens of times through out the school year, and sat through 3 school conferences, and it was never once brought up that our son wasn't getting any sort of education at all, except in how to sit in a chair.

She wondered at his ability to handle 1st grade. At that point, I explained in a "shocked as hell, and totally BRASSED THE FUCK OFF" mommy voice, that we would put him through to 1st grade, and give him the chance to prove that he was ready. Mostly because she was the only Kindergarten teacher at that school, and no way was I subjecting M2 to her ever again.

Come 1st grade (and every single grade since then), I talked with the teacher right at the start of school. I told her about his experiences in Kindergarten, and told her that he is ever an issue to the point where he's disrupting class, I was to know about it immediately. You can't help a problem unless you know it's happening. We went through all of Kindergarten thinking he was doing great. His grades were fine (this actually goes hand in hand with Asperger's Syndrome), and aside from a few notations that he could sometimes be loud in class, there was no indication he wasn't doing well in class.

By November, he was on his first ADHD medication, and the change in him was astonishing. He went from barely struggling to learn how to read, to reading at a 3rd grade level in 2 months. He shot ahead of the class in math, and stopped being so fidgety and disruptive. His grades were all the highest he could get. It was profound and amazing, the changes we saw.

Over the years, M3 has had many of the same difficulties, and because of M2's mess, I have the same talk with her teachers each year- if there are problems, I need to know so I can help when it IS a problem, not 5 months later.

When M3 was in 1st grade, we got the news that due to budget cuts, the school building she and M2 were in, was closing. This didn't effect M2, as he was off to Middle School the next year anyway, but it did change what school M3 would be in, and a better decision was never made.

The school she wound up at had been used in the past for most of the more serious special education cases. There used to be 4 elementary schools here in this rinky dink town (each hosting about 50 kids per grade, from K-4th). They funneled most of the Special Ed funding into 1 building, so that it would stretch further, and give them a bigger amount of resources.

This included a very nice Autistic program, designed to integrate high and moderately functioning Autistic kids into regular classrooms. They worked with teachers, classmates, and parents to ease these kids into normal day to day life.

As such, many of the teachers in the building have worked directly with both Autistic and Asperger's (AS) children. When Gillian was in 2nd grade, the teacher and some of the special Autism speakers, started to recognize that she had a lot of the same characteristics as the AS kids. The teacher started to work with her in the same ways she would work with the AS kids, and saw very positive results. She didn't approach us immediately, but at one point in the year, they were watching a short film that featured kids with AS- it was the kids talking in their own words about what AS meant for them. How they see things, feel things, how they look at the world around them.

After that, they called me in to watch the movie. At least a year before, I had started to explore AS as a diagnosis for M2 after someone suggested to me that it sounded similar to what her child was like. I read online a lot of descriptions, and I did bring it up with our PED, but at the time, neither of us felt it was accurate.

After watching that movie, it was like something inside clicked. The descriptions online suddenly made a lot more sense when I was seeing those traits up close, and seeing exactly what some of them meant.

From there, all that was left was to get testing done. The school district actually did all the work for M3, testing her, having teachers who have worked with her fill out assessment forms, etc. It was a long process, it involved a lot of meetings, a lot of going over things as old as when did she first smile, how old was she when she spoke her first word, was there anything odd about the pregnancy, etc. As we went over things, it became clear that she exhibited a lot of the tendencies from the time she was born.

Many kids with AS have sensory issues, such as being very sensitive towards light. When she was a newborn, she didn't tolerate light much at all. Our house was a dark tomb, curtains drawn tight, blankets tacked up in some rooms, and the lights were kept to a bare minimum.

She was also a self soother- from the time she was big enough to sit up on her own, she started rocking. She tore through 3 crib mattresses doing that, because they rubbed constantly against the bottom of the crib, and tore through. She would hold the bars of the crib, and rock. We knew when she was awake not because she cried, but because the crib started thumping loudly against the wall.

We are in the process of getting M2 diagnosed now. While it won't change who he is, it will help him at school, and give him a fighting chance.

Both kids are smart- almost scary smart at times. Both kids are super stubborn- especially with each other. They both have a sense of rigidness when it comes to rules. If there's a rule given to them, they expect that everyone else is following that rule 100%. But, at the same time, they rarely recognize when they themselves are not following it, but are eager to point out to the other if they notice the other isn't.

They are quirky. They are very socially awkward. Neither has many friends, and likely won't make tons as they grow, either. They'll be more likely to have 1 or 2 close friends, than to be included in a large group of people they are friends with.

Both of them are super comfortable making friends online (though, I'll be honest, it scares the daylights out of me, and we lay down strict rules on where they can make friends online at, and what they are allowed to give out, information wise).

They both can be very loving, and emotional. That's one of the things that's hard to explain. In the proper defined symptoms of this syndrome, it talks about how apathetic this people are. But that's not exactly the case. It's more a case of people who have no idea how to immediately recognize and react to unexpected emotions. If someone is crying, they will probably empathize, but not know what to say, or how to react, so they'll take a few moments before doing something. They may not do anything at all as they process the action, and try to form the correct reaction.

They also don't always know how to react to their own emotions. If they are angry, they may overreact. They might scream at someone for looking at them because it bothers them, instead of simply saying, "Could you please stop looking at me."

All in all, it means that M2 and M3 have a harder time in social situations- school, family gatherings, trips to the park or beach, etc. They have issues that can't be cured. It just means that their brains are wired a bit differently that neuro typical people.

So- that's the basics when it comes to my kids, and why my life is completely chaotic at times. This post shouldn't have been so freakin long, but as it is, I will be cutting it off now, and letting you know that part 2 should be much shorter, and will be about me, and why I think I have Asperger's Syndrome as well, and why that makes me really fucking socially awkward, and someone that should never be allowed in public.

It's About To Get Real

So, my peeps at Vista Print keep harrassing me sending me all sorts of sweet offers that everyone on the planet gets makes me feel all sorts of special. Free business cards! Who can turn THAT down??

Certainly not I. So here's a few design options. I want ya'll to help me decide which is the best way to advertise just how cool who I am.

Let me know in the comments which choice you like. Then I'll get the one I like best totally get the one you guys liked best.





Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Offensive Or Not?

A week ago, I made a post about a parenting practice I don't agree with. In that post, I also laid down my thoughts on parenting in general- when it comes to advice, everyone has something to say, and you need to learn to smile, thank them for their opinion, and let them know that you don't agree with it.

You should never apologize if your parenting style is different than someone elses. If they breast feed and you don't, simply agree to disagree. Don't apologize as neither one of you are doing it wrong. You are simply doing it your own way.

Lately, I've taken a small amount of flak for having an offensive blog. Some people don't like that I post it to facebook, and my cursing comes up on their feeds. Well, I won't apologize for how I blog, just like I wouldn't expect them to apologize for being offended.

I simply tell them that it won't offend me in the least if they unfriend me, or block me from view. I'm perfectly fine with that.

Part of it comes from the fact that I run an online business on facebook. I help facebook shop owners advertise their business, and help them sell their items to others. Several people confuse my blog on a personal level, with my business, and frankly, the two never mix. While I do have shop owners on my personal page for contact purposes, all business is kept to my business page.

I have told several people now that they are free to hide me or my posts at any time, or just remove me from their page all together. What I post doesn't get posted to my business page. It doesn't go onto other people's business pages (unless they put it there). It isn't shown to the people on their personal pages. It's kept just on my profile feed.

I have always dealt with clients in a professional manner, and always will. What I do on a personal level here on the blog has nothing to do with the other, and there is no reason for me to apologize for being me- and I won't.

So, if you ever find yourself in a situation where someone doesn't like something you've said, or done, just smile, nod, and let them know that you agree to disagree.

If I were less polite and professional, I'd simply tell them to blow it out their ass, and take the giant stick out of  their ass. But I'm nice, and polite, so I won't tell them to fuck the hell off.

Real Conversations: The "Son"

***Looking for info on iqtest1598? Scroll to the bottom for my update about it.***

This weekend, I got a yahoo message from my son. Now, I rarely go on yahoo messenger. In fact, I think this week was the first time in years, people. Years.

So I hop on, and had this conversation with my son.


SON: u there? it is important..

Anna: I am. That's how cool I am.

SON: I have a science project due tomorrow for summer school

Anna: That's nice, but since I'm talking to you IN PERSON IN MY FUCKING HOUSE right now, I have a feeling you're just an ASSHOLE who hijacked my SON'S email account.

Anna: So, tell me- what can I do to help YOU with YOUR homework for summer school you are NOT even in.

SON: will you please take this iq quiz, I need 5 friends to take it and tell me their results for this project. http://iqtest1598.com/?id=de8c37dfca7cd012

SON: I will owe you big time -- I will even take you out to dinner or something.

Anna: Oh, yeah. See... I'm not a dumbass who just fell off the turnip truck, ass much.

SON: please and thank you!

Anna: Tell you what, take me to dinner first, and a movie, and then we'll talk.

SON: brb someone just rang my doorbell

Anna: Or, just buy me a gift certificate.

Anna: I'd love a $500 gift card to The Walmart. Or maybe somewhere cooler.

Anna: Like Disney World.

Anna: Can you arrange that, ass hole?


Gotta love hackers. We've checked over the cpu's, no viruses, but he apparently has been holding conversations with people for like 2 weeks now.

UPDATE - 8/12/11

I notice I'm getting a lot of hits because of this post. If you are looking into whether or not this IQ test thing is legit? It's not. Don't click it. If it came from a "person" you know, advise them to change their password. The conversation comes from a computer that stole access to the person's email or chat. It isn't a virus on their cpu. All they have to do is change their passwords, and they'll stop having phantom spam conversations.

Meanwhile, if you want to laugh a bit? Stick around the page and keep reading. :)

Monday, July 25, 2011

Bloggie!

Spouse found a new toy that I fell in mad luffs with. It's a neat little camera that will post immediately to the blog.

Let me just start by listing all the cool ass shit I could post immediately with this bad ass little camera.

  • Fun, American Stripe Trucks
  • People doing Stupid Shit
  • Spouse buying me ice cream and then eating it all himself or giving it away to the kids
  • Drunk Blogs at the Bar
  • Crazy Real Conversations in Real Time
  • Places I visit
  • Stupid shit Minions do
  • Monday's words of wisdom, in real time!
  • And just a plethora of other items. 
Now that I've SOLD you on the idea that my voice can NOT be held down! I'd like to sell you on the idea of advertising your blog on my blog. Why do that? Well, for starters, the money can go towards allowing you to see/hear me in REAL TIME here on the blog. Next, though, it would help bring more people to YOUR blog in return. I'm just nice like that.


In order to buy it, I need to win the lotto get rich sell some ad space this week! Let me know if ya'll are interested!

Knock Knock, Motherfucker

In our town, we have a really old, really run down movie theater with 2 screens. One is an enormous room that seats everyone in town. (I have mentioned we live in a small town before, haven't I?). The other one seats like a family of 6. It's an even group.

The only Part of the appeal is that it's cheap. Spouse and I can go to a matinee, grab 2 tickets, 2 drinks, and 2 snacks for $12.50. For real. It's $3.00 each for matinee. Night movies are just $4.00. Snacks start out at $1.00, and go all the way up to $3.00. Actually, come to think of it, you can snag a small bag of fruit snacks, or a ring pop, or a single Air Head for $.25. So, dirt cheap.

Of course, dirt cheap comes at a price, and that price is comfort. The seats were original to the building, and are lumpy, hard, and wide enough for a size 3 petite woman. The rows are so close together that a 5'5" tall woman (re: Me) hits her legs against the seat in front of her. I actually bring a pillow with me now, because it means I can sit through the entire movie without resorting to taking my back pain medications when I get home. I hate leaving a movie theater with back pain, and massive headaches, resulting from said back pain. It just royally sucks donkey balls.



The bathrooms are something special, too. If you plan to use one, I suggest waiting.

But, on the chance that you have to, the women's bathroom is not handicap accessible. It's barely adult size person accessibly. You walk in to a closet sized room with a sink in it, that easily takes up 3/4ths of the bathroom. The outside door, and the door leading into the actual toilet area takes up the rest of the room.

In a room about as wide as a normal household hallway, there are 3 toilets, separated by plywood, with shower curtain doors. In order to use them, you kind of have to straddle the toilet while pulling down your panties, and when you sit down, your feet are in the hallway, under the shower curtain.

As I am not a man, I've never seen the men's room, but Spouse assures me it's about as big as the ladies room. Smaller, probably. Minion 2 says "there's a stall with no light, so it's really dark, and a urinal, and a really gross, dirty sink". Since he lives here, in my house, I would take his word at the sink being gross, because ours is not lickable clean. You can not eat off our sink. Well, maybe you could, but I advise against it.

This past winter, the theater changed hands, and they have made a few adjustments since then. New carpet (they actually advertised that on the sign out front for like 3 weeks), a new ceiling (though they did not fix the leak completely, so there are some tiles that are already nasty gross), and they repainted the floor and stage where the main screen is.

I shit you not, when I took Minion 1 to go see the first showing of Harry Potter last week, the new owner was behind the candy counter chatting up women about his new carpet. And before the movie started, he came in and thanked us all for making the theater what it was, and how proud he is of the changes- and the changes have been nice, but they were no where near the changes the rest of us wanted to see. When he mentioned that they were planning to change the seating in the future, a cheer went up in the theater.

They also added lights to the room. In the past, if you went there, you went into a dark room- much like theaters look when the movie has already started, only- no movie. Pain in the ass to navigate around in. They did add lights, but apparently, they don't have any budget left at the end of the month to pay the increased electric bill, because they rarely use the lights.

The screens are shoddy- they need to be replaced, you can see streaks of dirt and dust all over them. Now, Spouse used to work for a collage in the aspect of taking care of, fixing, and updating all technology in class rooms and auditoriums, including screens. He says they're a bitch to clean, so it's easier to replace them when they start looking all nasty. But think of it this way- when they show a scene that's all white, all you see is brown streaks. Yuck.

So yeah, the main appeal is the price. And really, for the price, you DO get 1st run movies. They aren't movies that have been out for 6 weeks already. Sometimes the movies are on their 2nd or 3rd week, but are still "in theaters". Lately, they've been getting opening weekend block busters. Harry Potter, Transformers, Captain America, etc.

It's a nice theater for the town. I just wish they would A) fix the seats- eliminate 5 rows, get new seats, and spread the rows out a bit so there is space. B) Replace the screens with clean ones. And C) Figure out how to make bathrooms I don't have to straddle. It's not pretty when an uncoordinated woman is trying to straddle a toilet, balance on one leg, and pull down pants and panties. It just does not work. I only attempt it when there is NO other option. I'm not Fergie, ya'll. I'm not about to piss myself for my own comfort.


Well, that's the theater. And totally not the original point of this now rather lengthy post.

In the first few minutes of Captain America, there was a scene that just gave me mad laffs. If you aren't into spoilers- tough fucking luck. But really, it's right in the beginning, and gives away ZERO spoilers, so I guess you're safe.

The Nazi's roll on up to some sort of a religious type building. The dudes in charge of the building went all about security details, and barred the door. The nazi's were not to be dissuaded by the obviously high tech security system in place.

They used the bucket of a crane, or something similar, to push the door in.

And all that kept going through my mind was, "Knock Knock, Motherfucker."

I am 5. You can not take me out in public.

Monday's Words of Wisdom

And thus begins the words of wisdom, Gilmoreisms. Hopefully, there will be a fun quote every now and then- whether it pertains to the craziness in my life, or they are just fun quotes I really love. If all goes well, you'll get another tasty little morsel of Gilmore Goodness every Monday.

If you have never watched Gilmore Girls, do it. Just 2 episodes and you are hooked. It's like intellectually comedic crack. Or the best kind of chocolate you've ever tasted. Whichever you prefer.

Tradition is a trap that allows people to stick their head in the sand. Everything in the past was so quaint, so charming. Time's were simpler, kids didn't have sex, neighbors knew each other. It's a friggin' fairy tale! Things sucked then, too. They just sucked without indoor plumbing! - Luke Danes


Keyword Searches of The Week
This week saw an increase in traffic to this here lil blog. It also brought in several people who were searching for something specific- likely not this blog, but they found it anyway, so here's the shit they searched this week. 

I also included the link they probably wound up at by searching this shit. I skipped the because you're a moron ones. They obviously wound up on the front page. You're welcome.
This post here? Probably won't help me steer away from those fun keywords.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

A day out

Spouse and I recently went to see Friends with Benefits, starring the talented duo of Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake. While I had heard about this movie, I had not actually seen the movie trailers at all, so I wasn't exactly sure what to expect.

I must say, start to finish? Not disappointed in the least. If you want to sit around having a good cry with a romance movie, then... skip this. Because this? Romcom with a high emphasis on the comedy portion.



The first sex scene was probably the most brilliant, real to life sex scene ever. Or maybe it's just me that babbles about whatever during sex. Moving on.

The cast was decent, but Justin and Mila stole the show. Nothing beats seeing Justin crying like a girl as he's air rescued, wearing a foil blanket.

One sadness. I've got a girl crush on Emma Stone, and her only part is like 5 minutes long, then she's done. Sad!



The opening scene is hilarious.

Start to finish, they bring the laughs.


Saturday, July 23, 2011

Weird Dreams- I haz them

I have not yet done a "Guess what I dreamed about" segment. I have weird dreams- and I almost always remember them with vivid clarity. It's something I've always had, and they make for some pretty weird stories, so here's my dream from last night.


Spouse, myself, and someone else wound up at a Winery at like 6 in the morning. I'm pretty sure it was in a school, which we went to so we could use the pool. While we were waiting for it to open, we wound up in the winery store.

At some point, Spouse was facing me, but walking backwards, and there was this giant hole in the floor of the shop. I tried to warn him to stop, but he fell in anyway. I could see around him that there were shelves and shelves of wine bottles, but it was dark, so I didn't see him. I screamed for help, and made sure to let the people around me know that he couldn't swim. (yeah... no clue why that was important, it wasn't like he was in a vat of wine).

As two guys ran off to go down there and find him, I noticed a commotion across the room. A girl I went to high school with was freaking out, because her husband fell into another hole. Come to find out, it was a guy I dated in hs.

So girl, let's call her Becky (cause I don't actually recall who she was, I just remember thinking I knew her from school) and I were herded into an employee cafeteria of some sorts while we waited. And waited. And waited some more. Turns out, the basement was enormous, and pitch black. They apparently didn't have lights in there, cause it would ruin the wine, or something. Spouse and Ex both wandered off from where the holes were, so they couldn't be found.

Totally reassuring Wine guy let us know in a completely not so panicked voice that they could be lost down there for days. We were both crying, because they could die down there. Oooook.

Finally, some random dudes showed up at the door. I ran over to them, thinking I saw Spouse. Nope, not so much. I almost hugged a random dude who looked exactly NOTHING like Spouse.

Becky's hubby, my real life ex, showed up out of no where, then the staff broke the news to me. They'd searched row by row and never found Spouse. I wound up sitting at a table with Nora from Brothers & Sisters, whose perky optimism almost got her killed. By me.

And in the blink of an eye, I was in my childhood home. There was some sort of party going on- felt kind of like a graduation party, only there were all of 5 people there, and none of them were people I knew. Another Ex of mine showed up at the party, and said he had stuff for me in his truck, so I went out all sad like, and grabbed these enormous clear bags or balloons shaped like toothpaste tubes. They were filled with random shit like candy, and small toys. Apparently, my step-mom ordered them for the party. Or something.

When I got back inside, Spouse was chilling out and watching basketball with my Dad. Who hates basketball. Or maybe not hates, but doesn't love. Spouse was all, where ya been?

It was a weird dream. But then, they usually are.

You might be a shitty parent, if....



For the most part, I try to steer clear of scathing condemnation. I have long since learned the best advice from days of old is, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.  However, sometimes, you just have to call a bad parent a bad parent. 

I joke around about my minions. They drive me nuts, but I love them. I complain about them, but I enjoy doing thinks with them. Taking them to crazy ass places like amusement parks. Or camping. For a week- without spouse. Yeah, not one of the better ideas I ever had. 

I joke around about giving bad parenting advice, so this is going to fall in that, kind of. It's more like in your fucking face advice for shitty ass parents.

So, here's a list of ways to tell if you are a crappy parent.

  • If you spend more time away from your children than with them, and it is NOT work related, you might be a shitty parent.
  • If you only call people you are upset with when you need baby sitting because all your back ups have turned you down, you might be a shitty parent.
  • If you don't know your kids name, you are probably a very shitty parent.
  • If you have ever considered swapping your child or services provided by your child, for drugs, you are a really shitty parent.
  • If you can honestly say, "i don't know who any of my kids dads are", and it has nothing to do with a sexual assault, you are a shitty parent.
  • If you have more beer in your fridge than kid friendly drinks, you are probably a shitty parent.
  • If you have ever left your children alone under the age of 10 (preferably older, but I'll give you 10), you are probably a shitty parent.
  • If you need to call a social worker to visit your child, you might br a shitty parent.
  • If your child has no idea who to give their mothers or fathers day card to, you might be a shitty parent.
  • If your idea of discipling a toddler involves Tabasco sauce, you are probably a shitty parent.
  • If you have ever laid a hand on your child in anger, you are a shitty parent.
  • If you have ever told your toddler they are annoying you, and shut them in their room for an entire day you are really a shitty parent.
  • If you smoke pot around your kids to help mellow them out, you are indeed a shitty parent.
  • If you would prefer to keep a cat over your toddler, you are indeed a shitty parent.

If you have not otherwise guessed, I am a little jacked up over someone who is a shitty parent. The parent in question hasn't done all of the above, but they have done enough to earn the "Congratulations, you're a shitty shitty parent!" award.

Kids are created out of all sorts of reasons, the leading of which is a big, fat Oops! But no matter the reason they are here, they are priceless. They are the future, they are love. They are innocent, and they are fantastic. They are wonderful. They can be annoying, they can be aggrevating, they can be a royal pain. But you suck it up and you fucking deal with the ups and downs with love. And if you can't do that without being a shitty parent, then you shouldn't be a parent.

Annanonamus.com

Today, I registered for a domain name. Blogger said it could take a few days for the system to catch up, though. My old address of annanonamus.blogspot.com will redirect people to annanonamus.com, but if you have links on your page, you may want to drop the blogspot.com.

It will likely be a bit before annanonamus.com shows up, but within 3 days, everyone should be able to see it posted as annanonamus.com.

Also? I did it all without tech guru Spouse helping me one bit. Yay me!

Friday, July 22, 2011

Asshole Eyebrows, part 2

Spouse sent this shit to me via email from work this morning. Clearly, he has too much time on his hands if he's got asshole eyebrow cyber stalking on the morning agenda. Those aren't his. I cut that shit last night. He used my own image against me.

Asshole.

New look- love it or hate it?

Playing around with settings this morning. Do you love it, hate it, what would you change, etc?

Scaredy Cat

We have 4 cats, and in their own ways, they're all crazy as shit.

Big cat, Rajik, is scared of -everything-. If you open a door, he takes off running like a zombie attack just started. Now that I think about it, perhaps he's in training for just that. I digress.

One of his oddities, is that he only drinks water from my bathtub, in the master bath, when the faucet is dripping. He's been known to wake us up in the middle of the night with his insanely loud meow, to let us know he's thirsty and the faucet isn't dripping for him.

Usually when he go through our room, he creeps a bit, and jumps very easily, but does it several times a day without issue. Until a few nights ago, anyway.

Several nights back, he stopped coming in all together. He'd sit outside the door meowing, but not go in. I finally just started carrying his fat ass (he is a BIG fucking cat) into the bathroom. He's all nervous and jumpy in our room.

Last night I got him to come in, but he freezes at the doorway- sniffing, looking around, and generally freaked right the fuck out. Then something with scare the bejesus out of him, and he takes off running to the bathroom like someone shot him from a canon. He hops in the tub, and peeks up over the edge for a moment, before going to get his drink of water.

I decided our bedroom must be haunted. That's the only explanation for a cat frightened of his own shadow. Possibly he's the only cat really effected. The girls come and go as they please. Our other boy sniffs around a bit, and gets a tad jumpy, but no where near Rajik's level of neurosis. (And no, spell check, when I first spelled it wrong, I did NOT mean Necrosis, thank you VERY much)

Thursday, July 21, 2011

Spouse's Asshole Eyebrows vs. Anna

Spouse has some kickin eyebrows. He's like a chia pet. Hair just grows on him. ALL OVER. His eyebrows are no different. They're all sorts of crazy out of control, and he even gets hair cuts for them! He has 1 specific eyebrow hair that grows in kind of kinked and curly.

It sticks straight out from his bushy, caterpiller-esque brows. Points straight out. Makes me have the serious yearns to pluck that bitch. Or put a frickin hair bow on it. Either one works for me.

Tonight, we had to grocery shop, so we did what any responsible parents would do- we ditched the kids at home in the heat, stopped by a restaurant to eat in the air conditioning, and imagined what life would have been like if we didn't have to drop $200 on groceries to feed an angry hoard of hungry minions every day.

Then I had to sit there eating with Asshole Eyebrow staring me down. Spouse wouldn't let me pluck it at the table. He scoffed at the idea of me curling it with my finger nails. Then, he mocked me by turning his head just right, so that it was silhouetted against the white wall. What the hell, Spouse?

Tonight, I shall be doing away with the Asshole Eyebrow. I may need to rent power tools to do the job.

Dolls are Creepy

When I was a wee lil tike, I was fascinated by my Great Grandma's house. She had all sorts of weird stuff. One of my favorite things was a shadow box filled with stuff from long, long ago. Opera glasses, beaded lace collars, old glasses, campaign buttons from the 40's and 50's. It was fascinating to just stare at it.

One of the creepier things, however, was her spare bedroom. It was wallpapered in dolls. Seriously- all 4 walls were covered in creepy, porcelain doll faces staring down at you. I really wish I had a photo to show you, but even with the world wide interwebs, I haven't located that creepy image. It was probably from the 50's or 60's. She hadn't had kids of her own living in the house since the 40's.

They were layered like this on the walls- head after head after head- all out to get me.

In my head, they looked more like this.

In the insanely tiny bedroom was a monster bed, covered in ruffled bedding. In the center was the doll pile. Like 20 dolls all sleeping against the pillows.

It was seriously the stuff of nightmares. I spent the night one time, and remember that I had a very hard time falling asleep. Every time you opened your eyes, 400 doll eyes were peering down at you. The nightlight provided lots of shadows, which made them seem menacing and even creepier.



I realized the other day, I've never gotten over that. I am not a fan of dolls. Well, not all dolls. I dislike anything that looks vintage. Vintage porcelain the most. Barbies don't freak me out in the same way. The fake plastic smile is creepy, but not in a "I'm going to murder you in your sleep, steal your soul, then kill all your friends and family" sort of way.

When Anna Met Harry...

The other night, I received an email update from my dear friends at Facebook. Me and facebook, we're tight. I run a lovely page called "Because You're A Moron"- you should go and LIKE it. I'll wait. Got it? Good.

Back to the story.

I get an update email from Facebook, and I just stopped at the subject line. You ready for it?

Harry Potter brand condoms "protect your slytherin from hogwarts" likes Because You're A Moron

There are just so many places you could go with that. I could do a fangirlsquee over Harry Potter. I could make some cracks about getting "Hogwarts". I could pick on them. But instead, I'm just going to bask in getting an email with such an awesome subject line.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

It's Fucking Hot Out

There's no polite way to tell someone, "Excuse me, my ass cheeks are glued to this vinyl booth. Ignore the sound of me peeling my flesh from it."

Spouse and I went out for lunch. He surprised me by coming home early today. Yay for early home times! We went to the old Pizza Slut Hut lunch buffet, and say on squeaky vinyl seats. After eating, I had to peel myself off, because I wore shorts. Oops.

When it's hot like this, and you have no AC, you're in that fun place where sweat drips off you, and your friends and relatives laugh their asses off because they're sitting nice and cool in the AC. Well, fuck you, too. At least my electric bill isn't sky high this month.



Here's some tips for keeping cool when all you have are fans that blow hot air back at you.



  1. Steal all your kids popsicles. Blend them with some rum. Fruit Margarita, viola! This should probably fall under bad parenting advice. 
  2. Turn down the hillbilly ac unit, AKA the freezer. Prop the bitch open, put a fan in front of it, and sit down in front of the fan.
  3. Take a cold shower. 5 times a day. It'll also help with that "hot as fuck" sweat smell you've started to give off. Trust me, your friends and co-workers will thank you for your sudden discovery of the shower.
  4. Stock up on cheap ass Daily's Frozen Drink mixes. The liquor's already in it! Yay! Sure, it comes out of the freezer too hard to drink, but while it's thawing, you can hold the package against your sweat soaked body for some cooling off time. I prefer the frozen Lemonade, but there are several you can pick from.
  5. Find the nearest body of water, bring a chair, sit it IN the water, plunk your ass down, and don't move for 2 hours. It might help to bring an umbrella, or you may be lobster red tomorrow. Don't forget a drink. Beer works, I hear, but I fucking hate beer, so I'm not sure I'm the best judge on that.
  6. Cruise the local "The Walmart" for a few hours. Don't steal any Cover Girl, though. 


I'm so over summer. Remind me of this Africa heat come January, when I'm bitching about the sub zero weather we get up here. Seriously, I may need the reminder. 

At this point, all I can think of, is that in August I'll go on vacation, and be up north where it's cooler, and there will be a big ass lake to enjoy.  And also? Imightgettheballsuptogoparasailingat600feet. Wish me luck!

Your Kid Will Be Weird



As a parent, I think we all have to realize at some point in time, our kids will be weird. They'll be odd. They'll be ostracized. They won't be invited to -the- cool event of the year.

And that's ok. Now, more than ever, we can embrace the inner geek. We can raise nerds, and be proud of it. We can take our skinny, scrawny, pale as can be kids out in public, and actually acknowledge and brag about them.

Sure, there are still those parents who raise perfectly coiffed, perfectly pressed kids, who have big shiny straight smiles, perfect eyes, perfect bodies, and who can churn out an award winning term paper in under 20 minutes.

But most of us are stuck with average. We're stuck with kids who have flyaway hair. Kids who wear clothing that might not match. Kids who brought home a C last week on their report card. Kids who have slightly crooked smiles, or wear clothing from last season. Or worse yet, Good Will Couture.

Your kid will be outside of what most would consider socially acceptable. They'll say weird crap at weird times. You'll often look at them, scratch your head, and wonder- why doesn't my kid look like they just walked off the set of some random Teen TV show? Hair all in place, clothing cute, and matching?

Well, because your kid is weird. Normal, but weird.

Get used to it.

You may have wanted this:



But you wound up with this:



But just think- at their 10 year reunion, your weird kid will be a lot less awkward, and those Teen Model Wannabe kids will still be stuck in high school, wondering why people don't follow behind them bowing, kneeling, and throwing rose petals.