I’m Such a Slacker

I’ve been doing so well with the writing thing. I was even ahead a couple of blogs, which is probably why I didn’t notice until just now that I didn’t post anything today. I ran out of pre-scheduled blogs. I guess my little bout of writing enthusiasm had to end at some time. Not that it really did. My kid has been suspended and I use his fancy computer a lot of the time to write because it is way faster than the my little laptop, so I just haven’t really been writing while I’ve been Momming. He is back at school today though. He got all of his work finished that he was going to miss by not being there and he got his ROTC project done that was due Friday. He might be a little bit of a procrastinator. He will figure it out eventually. Anyway. Other than that, nothing new and exciting going on really. Well, there is that whole erotica thing. I finished a 10,000 word short story that I’m actually pretty proud of. It’s possibly a little dirtier than erotica if that’s a possibility. I don’t really know how raunchy is too raunchy to be considered erotica? I guess it’s kind of like that fine line between rated R and X? Eh, it’s not quite as whips and chains as Fifty Shades. It’s more of a dominant man, meek woman kind of thing. I’m on the fence about putting it out there, because, although I want people to read it. I’d rather those that enjoy erotica, stumble upon it naturally while perusing amazon for more smut to read. On the other hand, I’d like some feedback from regular erotica readers. I think I’ll just wait, because this story is going to have at least one other part, maybe two. It’s kind of neat, how when I write, I think the story is going in one direction and then BAM! Out of nowhere, something happens that even I didn’t expect and I’m writing it! I guess that just goes to show that maybe I’m not writing it at all. Maybe the story is already there and I’m just the messenger. So I guess I could really point you to the direction of my smut and just tell you don’t shoot the messenger. Yes, I am laughing at my own joke. Sue me. Anyway, maybe at some point I’ll grow the balls needed to share my word porn, but for now, I guess I will keep it my dirty little secret until I have enough of them under my belt to make for a nice little variety book. I am open to opinions on this, unless you are my mom and you think I shouldn’t be writing that filth, in which case we should just all acknowledge that ship has sailed and go on about changing the things in our lives that we can.

Permanent Lipstick and BJ’s

I’ve never been one to wear makeup so I’d never even attempt to do a makeup review, however, I did attempt to wear some lipstick today. I wasn’t really getting dressed up for anything, but I bought some the other day when I was buying some cover up for  “curling iron burn” on my neck. And I thought, “what the hell,” I’ll try it on. Of course I got bright red because my guy made a joke about bright red lips and blowies and so for fun, I got some. Problem one: I don’t have a defined lip line. I guess that’s what lip liner is for?
Problem 2: I got the long wear lipstick or maybe it was supposed to be lip stain. Either way, the color totally came off on  my coffee cup and I did not like that.

Then I got to thinking, if I was going to do some indecent, indescribable act to someone’s nether region, I don’t think I want lipstick that smudges and I definitely don’t want long lasting lipstick that smudges. I mean, I guess even I can agree that there’s some sort of sexy slutty allure (to men) when a woman has lipstick smeared all over her face from acts of seduction, but I’d really like to be able to wash it off, rather quickly, so the whole world didn’t know that I was doing things better left unspoken about.

With that being said, I then started to wonder about that permanent make-up, a lip tattoo or something like it, because after taking a few ridiculous selfies and looking at myself in the mirror, I really liked how my red lips looked. So now I’m kicking that idea around, but like all tattoos, I think as you get older, yor lips change too, don’t they? Or start sagging or something? I don’t know. I think I’m going to have to do some more research on that or maybe take a lesson on how to apply lipstick. Only time will really tell, but I am open to suggestions.

Euphoric Even Only for a Day

Sometimes when I sit and think about my perfect life, it looks something like, wake up, fed the dogs, have breakfast, get the kid up for school, drop him off, go to the gym,  run a few errands, be home by ten and sit down and write until 3 or 4, pick the kid up from school, clean up a little, make dinner, maybe take the dogs on a walk, read a little or watch a little television, spend some time with the man I love, and then curl up on his chest to go to sleep content with my day.

I actually did all of that yesterday and by the end of the day, I was feeling euphoric. Although, in my little daydream, I’m actually making money from the writing I am doing, but all things in time, right? Baby steps. I’m writing. I’m in my happy place. As of right now, my bills are paid. I have faith that next month things will work out too, but I really feel like the most important thing is that I am happy. I am writing. I feel creative and like I have a purpose. I actually feel like I want to call that dickhead and thank him for firing me every month because, if not for him, I may still be sitting in his office trying to help him get his life together instead of working on getting my own life together.

I swear I’ve never felt so free, but then again, maybe this is just that calm before the storm. The euphoria before realizing that I don’t have a fucking job and I still have kids and bills and dogs and responsibilities. But, I’m not going to worry about that today. I’m not going to be the rain on my parade. Not just yet anyway.

Today, I am going to be a ray of effing sunshine. I’m going to be that positive person that the whole world looks at and says, “why the fuck is she so happy?” I think I’ve been that person a lot anyway. My best friend said once, “If you can be happy and your life is falling apart, then there’s no reason why I can’t be happy.” Or something like that. It probably would have offended anyone else if she or anyone said that to someone, but I took it as a compliment, because she was right. I do, most of the time, have a knack for being perpetually happy even when I really should be borderline suicidal or at least with a small drinking problem. I guess optimism is a gift, like knowing how to sing or paint without ever being taught. So I guess I’m just going to take my gift of optimism, pair it with my gift of writing (that I’m trying to convince myself that I have) and just get on with my life with no regard for what anyone else thinks I should be doing with it. So for today, there’s that!

Put the High Fives on Hold

Remember yesterday, when we were all so proud of my kid for being an entrepreneur? We can temporarily stop the high fives He’s suspended AGAIN! Not for peddling candy. He’s suspended for “accidentally” skipping a marketing class that he hates. This is the second time he’s been suspended because of this class. At first, I thought it was the class. It’s all upperclassmen, the work is too hard, he’s intimidated to participate, etc., etc.  Now, I think my kid is just a.) acting like a little fucking jerk and b.) has devised a way to beat the system.

A. Why He’s Acting Like a Jerk

His principal tried to talk to him about the class and about how he can bring his grade up. She even offered to have one of the “A” students come to In School Suspension and help him get caught up. He declined. He said he didn’t want help from one of them. He didn’t want to be friends with them, he didn’t want to get to know them, and probably a little more waah, waah, waaahing.

So I’m no longer a sympathizer to his marketing plight.

B. How He’s Milking the System

Skipping class is a “serious offense” according to the school. They take it seriously. They punish accordingly. If you skip a class, you get ISS, in school suspension, for 2 days. If you refuse in school suspension, you get OSS, out of school suspension, for those two days. Mel is borderline truant. He HATES school. So now, I think he’s figured out he can do a little offense such as taking the “wrong” lunch and missing part of a class, which will be considered skipping, he can then refuse the ISS, take the OSS, and still get to be out of school without the “truancy” issue.

I’m somewhat at a loss of how to deal with it because I really hate the idea of ISS. I even asked if he could go to the library and read or help the janitor clean bathrooms all day instead of this loophole, but the answer is, “that’s not how we do things here.” Obviously. So now, I have a kid out of school for two days messing up my schedule.

The Outcome

We’ve had a talk and he has promised that he is done with his shenanigans and he is going to put forth an effort in the class, because with school, and life, we all have to do our fair share of things we hate and our fair share of working with people who have no fucking sense, until we either find something else to do (that we most likely will end up hating) or just completely go postal and lose our shit in public. Either way, it’s never a pretty sight, but the universe is not set up to be a perfect place. And, quite frankly, I’m not set up to coddle a kid who is acting like a disrespectful, spoiled fucking brat just because he doesn’t like a class. I mean, seriously, get over it, bub. There’s like two months of school left. This is not forever.

So while he puts his big boy pants on and just deals with it, I’m going to be putting my foot down and attempting to give him an attitude adjustment, because I’m just not used to having to deal with a kid who acts like this, at least not for too long.



He’s a Baby Hustler and I’m Not Going to Jail

When parenting, it is important to find something your kid is interested in and then explore those options or so I read somewhere, especially if your child is like mine and hates all things school. My fifteen year old is on the border of truant and mom is going to jail. He.Just.Hates.School. I’ve mentioned this a time or two or ten. There have been no miraculous changes since the last time. But, one thing he is a huge fan of is money. Making money. Having money. Spending money. He likes money. So in order to get him to go to school every day and to try in some way to get him interested in a little bit of anything, I made him a deal, a.k.a., I bribed him. With money. I offered him a small salary for perfect attendance and 30 minutes of quality reading after he gets home from school. Of course I could be one of those “do it because I said so” parents but that’s not my thing. If it’s your thing and it works, hats off to you. So we made this deal that I thought was pretty sweet. He is going to go to school. He is going to read. I am not going to go to court or jail. All is right with the world.

And then he sweetens his own deal. He comes home from school the other day saying that he needed to go to the store to get some supplies. He’s decided to be the candy man at school. We went and looked around and he changed his mind and decided that he wasn’t going to make a return on his investment with candy because you can get some of it at school for the same price. So he wracked his brain for another moment to decide what his next move would be. Sprite. You can only buy diet sodas in one of the machines at school and I think the other machine either didn’t have sprite or charged more than a dollar for it. I don’t really know. So this kid buys two six packs of sprite at the store. It’s on sale for $3 and he did end up buying some skittles because they were on sale for $.50. He took a couple of each to school the next day and came home with some leftover skittles but no sprite. He packed up to go the next day and he sold out. He packed his bag to go today. I dropped him off at school at 8. By 8:13, he had sent me a text that said, “I’m sold out already.” And he’s making a 50% profit. I don’t know if his sprite and skittles peddling is a capital offense in high school, but if that’s what it takes to get him to go to school and if that’s what it takes to get him to sit down and figure out how much he’s spending, how much he’s making, and how much he needs to sell daily to reach the goal that he’s trying to reach, I’d say that homework project is way more interactive than the ones he dreads doing at school. And at least it’s not drugs, right?

He says there are a couple of other girls who sell chocolates every day so he doesn’t think it’s against the rules. That’s why he went with skittles. He didn’t want to have too much competition in the candy sector. Again, maybe not winning parent of the year from the parenting committee and maybe not even from the teaching committee, but at least he’s going to school and being semi-productive…… for now.

Online Dating or Two Stamps

I’m not much of a complainer. Maybe I am, but I try to keep it at a minimum. And I love my mom. Maybe I should have started with that. I know that my mom is home alone all day and she is bored, but that woman is the biggest saboteur of my writing. I can tell anyone else in the world that I have a plan to write every day at a certain time. I can tell them that I will not be available for any reason until after 2:30 or 3pm because I am trying this new thing called getting in the habit of writing. They say sitting down is the hardest part. It’s not the writing itself. It’s the time. So my main focus has been to make sure that I make the time for it. At least four hours a day. I know that seems like a lot of time to devote to something, especially if that something is just staring at a computer screen and writing a bunch of gibberish until something creative and amazing pops into your head and then you get on a roll, but it’s a thing. And it’s a thing I’m trying. And I swear to you, I can tell my mom a thousand and one times that I’m writing tomorrow morning and I’ll call her when I get finished and no sooner do I sit down to write that I see her sweet sweet face pop up on my phone. I keep my ringer off so I’m not completely distracted, but I keep my phone in my peripheral vision just in case the school calls because, my kid is having issues lately. After about the fourth time, I finally answer. And the conversation usually goes like this:

“Hey mom.”


“What’s up?”


“Whatcha need?”

“Do you have two stamps?”

“that’s why you’re calling?”


“I’m writing, mom.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Call you when I’m done.”


Sometimes, she just calls because she’s bored. My siblings are working their regular jobs so they get the reprieve of being called before 5 pm. Again. Let me state that I love my mother and maybe she just calls me because I have a tendency to answer my phone. And I do that because I feel like the one time I decide to not answer will be the one time she’s fallen or had some crazy lunatic with a butter knife and saran wrap break into her house and force her to make him sandwiches or some shit and then I’ll feel bad forever that I didn’t answer the phone, but when she calls and the butter knife bandit has not been there, I get pissed off at myself for answering the phone. I don’t really have the answer to this problem. Well, I do. The answer is a new grandkid or a boyfriend, but I don’t have the time or energy to devote to either one of those. Although I have kicked around the idea of making her a dating profile, but I quickly change my mind when I think about all my online dating mishaps. So I guess I will just continue to answer the phone and smile and tell her that I do, in fact, have two stamps to bring by later. After all, you only get one mother or at least that’s what they tell me.

YouTube Beware!

In the midst of a conversation with my BFFs the other day, one of them mentioned that I should just go ahead and start a YouTube channel. We were talking about the erotica that I had recently started working on so I immediately thought she meant that I should start an erotica channel which translated in my mind to “you should have your own porn site.” That’s not what she meant. She meant that I could use it for “sharing poems, recipes, reviews of random stuff, and the occasional lip sync, etc.” Ya’ll know how I love a good lip sync every now and then. And if you don’t, well now you do. Add to that list, the occasional drunken karaoke and you pretty much have the basic ingredients of what it takes to entertain me.

In my head, I like to think that I am super duper entertaining, but I don’t think making jokes to yourself and then laughing hysterically for five minutes really counts, but I am currently taking all suggestions about what it is I should do with my life, so I haven’t actually completely decided against the YouTube channel. I do always think of my kids before making a decision like that though, because ultimately, they will suffer the consequences of their demented mother’s life choices.

For instance, what happens when I run into some guy at the grocery store while I’m shopping with my kid and he says, “hey, you’re that mom from the internet who told her kid that if his dick wasn’t big enough to fit into a magnum condom, then he shouldn’t be having sex.” And then my kid would be all like, “mom! You put our sex talk online? Have you no scruples?” (not that my kid would probably ever use the word scruples, but you get my point, right?).

What if the YouTube thing is an excellent idea. What if I am that entertaining that I could be famous? What if my fame comes at the expense of utterly embarrassing my children? Is it worth it? (this is where the little voice in my head kicks in and says, “is embarrassing your children worth it? Fuck Yea! Put that in your Joy of Parenting book!”).

So anyway, maybe I will start a YouTube channel. Actually, I don’t really have to start one, because I  already have one. I guess I would just have to revamp it or reintroduce it or have some grand re-opening celebration like those furniture stores do when they want to put up those red and white plastic flags and tie balloons to everything. Either way, I’m currently kicking that around the office in my head. I’ll keep you posted… maybe with a video.