But anyway, it is time to wrap up the month, and I have something excellent for you. Over at Citizen of the Month, the Great Interview Experiment is going on once again and I had the opportunity to interview Stone Fox of Life in the Fast Lane. Rather than bore you with stories about how one of that cats peed on everything and the dog has taken to eating hats/pudding cups/razors (OH MY GOD I AM NOT EVEN KIDDING) and how I am just about ready to shriek so loudly and terrifingly that all four legged creatures in this house immediately teach themselves to walk upright so as to attempt to blend in and escape my wrath, I instead bring you this interview to introduce you to a blogger that you may not have known.

*****

Firstly, I shall ask you a blogging question: Is this your first blog? How long have you been blogging? What made you decide to start blogging? Are there any bloggers who you have read for like, a hundred years and wish you could grow up to be just like them? If you were to be 100% honest, what is your least favorite thing about blogging? THAT ALL COUNTS AS ONE QUESTION!

This is my first serious attempt at blogging. I think I tried to start a blog about a hundred years ago and made it through one post before calling it quits. I was a bit lacking in sticktuitiveness back in the old days. I started this blog on the recommendation of my therapist; she suggested journaling as a way to help deal with my grief over my mom passing away. I think I’ve been blogging for six or seven months now.

I don’t know if there is any one blogger that I would like to be, I tend to follow anyone who makes me laugh, so I guess I want to be funny when I grow up. And FYI, I am always 100% Honest, except when I am 100% Lying. What I like least about blogging is the trend that I am seeing of blogging becoming more of a commercial enterprise. Hey, whoa, hey, let’s not get crazy here, I’m not saying that a person shouldn’t make a buck off of what they can. I am referring to the seminars, programs, etc that are teaching bloggers that if you want to make X money, you should have Y content. It’s like putting your blog through the Same-ulator so You, Too, Can Have A Cookie-Cutter Blog. Whatever happened to writing about things you know about instead of giveaway after giveaway followed by product review/endorsement?

Secondly, I see from your blog that you have three kids under five. Is WOW a question? How does a typical day go in your house? Do you kind of just go with it, or is there a lot of structure required for that many kids? I know that three kids isn’t, like, a LOT, but does it SEEM like a lot sometimes?

A typical day starts with a few hits off the meth pipe washed down by Patrone, and then smoothed out with some Valium. Ahaha hah hah. I wish. Three kids, although numerically not a high number, is a SHITLOAD of kids. Pardonez mon francais. I am completely outnumbered. The noise level is outrageous, someone is always crying, hungry, or needs an ass change (or just peed their pants), and the house often looks like a bomb went off. I like to refer to it as The Damn Hellhole. As in, “Look at this Damn Hellhole. Who is going to clean this up?”

I require structure. I would go insane if I just let them run like heathens; well, ok, in summertime, when I can kick them outside, they can be free.. free like the wind. Winter, when they’re stuck inside? Not so much. I know everyone shits on Kate Gosselin because she is such a control freak, but really? I can totally see where she is coming from. I have less than half the amount of kids she has, and sometimes I am forced to unleash Psycho Bitch From Hell Mom just to get some order around here.

Thirdly, I checked out your Skinny Bitch blog. What kind of plans do you have for that down the line? Do you think you feel more motivated to reach a goal, whether it’s weight loss or anything else, if you have promised yourself to keep the internet informed of your progress?

Heck yeah it’s motivating, knowing other people in cyberspace are watching. My mentality is, ‘I can’t just quit, other people are a part of this too.’ There is definitely accountability, as well, having other people in on my “Journey” (hokey Oprah word), but there is also support. None of us is losing weight without eff-ing up when it comes to food or exercise, none of us has it easier than anyone else. Sharing a word of encouragement, or even a big ole ME TOO! when someone writes about something they struggle with often is a big boost to the writer and anyone else who reads the comments.

Each of us has our own way of losing weight, so there is also an aspect of learning about other weight loss programs, etc. If I plateau on Body For Life and want to switch to Weight Watchers, I can just ask Rukus to help me with that. Or maybe I would go trolling the net, find something new and interesting, and post it up for everyone else to read and give an opinion. I would love to see Skinny Bitch grow into a big, supportive community with healthy encouragement for anyone who wants to lose weight – without judgment of how a person got overweight or how they plan to lose it. Hopefully we can also have a little section on fitness and nutrition education. There is just so much information out there, it would be nice to have someone break it down into digestible pieces.

Fourthly, you’ve written about how you, too, have recently quit smoking. As you know, that’s a subject of current interest to me. How did you end up successfully quitting? Do you feel like a non-smoker yet, or someone still in the process of quitting? Have you noticed any positive benefits yet? Because I feel like I have, at two months out, and Phil says he hasn’t at more than 3 months out for him. WHICH OF US IS INCORRECT?

I smoked for about 12 years. I probably quit about 5 or 6 times and it never lasted more than 3 months. I managed to get to that 3-month mark and think, “I can have just one..” FATAL WORDS, MY FRIEND. One WILL lead to a PACK. Without trying to be a Debbie Downer (which, this totally will be a downer in a Serious Kind Of Way), the reason I quit was because I promised myself that I would quit smoking before the one year anniversary of my mom’s death. She was a heavy smoker for 50 years. She died at 65 of lung cancer. It sucked.

awkward silence…

So yeah. To answer the other questions, I have now made it past the dreaded 3 months, so I am feeling more and more like a non-smoker. Well, not even non-smoker. More like an ex-smoker. Kind of like I was common-law married to cigarettes and things just didn’t work out between us, so we split up. And I know, I’ve left before but kept going back just for one more bang and before you know it, we’re living together again. This time, I was serious. Cigarettes and I don’t even talk on the phone. No emails. No texts. When I see him on the street getting sucked off by anyone with $12 in his or her pocket, I don’t even wave. It’s like we’re strangers now. And I’m totally ok with that.

I do feel much better healthwise since I quit. I used to get these scary dizzy spells while I was driving that scared the ever-loving out of me. Also, I used to have a wheeze and now I don’t. Also, I don’t smell like ashtray or that old-cigarette dirt smell anymore. It sounds like Phil is just bitchy because he still has the Crave. I am going to go with PHIL: YOU ARE INCORRECT. Please do not get huffy about it.

Fifthly, to fit in with my blog, where I will be posting this interview – I have been working on a project called Becoming People Who Comment. What is your own blog commenting style? Do you comment on everything you read, or never comment? When you don’t comment on something you’ve read, what stops you? This is for science.

My own commenting style depends on my mood. Usually I try to be funny, which probably flops more often than not, but as long as I’m laughing it’s cool. If it’s a serious post, I try to leave a thoughtful comment that shows I actually read it, instead of just skimming. There are some blogs that I comment on all the time; other blogs, I only comment if the post is something that is germane or interesting. Sometimes there are just too many posts to read and not enough time, so I don’t comment on any. Basically, though, If I don’t have something at least half assed intelligent to contribute, I won’t comment. Huh. You’d think by that criteria I’d be commenting a lot less.

All of these questions each counted as one question, by the rules I just made up, thus staying neatly within the 5 to 10 questions rules! However, since you have three kids under 5, I will totally understand if you want to answer only one question out of my huge question balls.

HA! As if I would only answer one question. We’re talking about me, here. I can go on and on about myself for hours – as you can see by my essay-like answers. Great questions!

*****

So there you have it, Internet. My “five” to “ten” questions for Stone Fox at Life in the Fast Lane. If you want to check out more interviews from the Great Interview Experiment, you can find them over here, or sign up yourself. The interview was fun, and I think I might do it again some time, so please email me with extreme caution, because I’ve just made up a rule right now that says that if you email me and get back a response that is not only completely unrelated to your topic or question, but is also a huge Question Ball, you are required to answer them all.

That’s the rule.

“Yep.”

“Sell Out?”

“Yep.”

“The very song that Don’t Start a Band is about?”

“Yep.”

“‘Play that one damn song is what they say,’ that’s you?”

“Yep.”

“You’re a walking cliche.”

“You’re a buttmouth.”

Weird!

Originally uploaded by TemerityJane

Sitting in a Carl’s Jr drive through, being denied breakfast. Except
over there? At the hotel we just came from? It’s an hour earlier. This
is heinous time zone/drive through coordinated fuckery. Let this be a
lesson to you, Internet. Drive over the Colorado, no sourdough
breakfast sandwich for you.

Dear Internet,
Please enjoy the view from the traditional Thanksgiving casino hotel
room in lovely Laughlin, NV. The view of the Colorado River from the
window is really quite nice during the day, but I was much too busy
throwing perfectly good money down the toilet to get a picture. Wish
you were here,

TJ

A Thanksgiving miracle

Originally uploaded by TemerityJane

And lo, as tradition dictated, the Thanksgiving bingo of the Phil
Family Clan was played. The Gods of Turkey smiled on your hero this
day, blessing her with the rarest of beasts – The Perfect Game.

So, the other day, Phil entertained my sale and clearance shopping needs by stopping into a store I’d never been in before: Beale’s. In case you have one near you, I’ve put together a helpful list of some products you might want to hone in on for all your discount gift giving needs:

The Pedi-Smooth. Superior to that oval-shaped foot care object because this one promises not only smooth, but also sassy feet. Also? It’s shaped like a foot. I mean, what does an egg know about foot care? This one is shaped like the body part it is designed to care for. That’s thoughtful craftsmanship.

How about some male underpants? They’re already slightly imperfect, so you don’t have to be afraid to blooper in them.

For that expressive, dark, edgy person in your life – nothing says intimidating like skulls made out of bones. On pajamas.

Another way I like to save money is by choosing items that have more than one use or purpose. For example, these pants can be given both to people who have careers in the automotive fuel industry or to those who smell really bad in the buttial area. (Though in seriousness? I’m not sure the makers of these pants understood the joke they were supposed to be making.)

Of course, we can’t forget the toys! Just try not to stare at them too hard.

I mean, if your kid hasn’t learned to read yet, “Quick Change Transforming System” is pretty much exactly the same thing.

Look, kids! It’s Ooptimoose Prune! And Bimbleboo!

]]> http://temerity-jane.com/life/knock-off-christmas/feed/ 17 http://temerity-jane.com/life/bad-words/ http://temerity-jane.com/life/bad-words/#comments Wed, 25 Nov 2009 00:00:12 +0000 TJ http://temerity-jane.com/?p=1893 I just feel like this needs to be said today:

Words I Hate,
a list, by TJ

1. Goodies. As in, “We will be handing out plenty of goodies,” or “What kind of goodies did you get?” Hated even more when used in a singular form: “Please bring a goody to share.” God. Never have I felt more awkward than the two total occasions I have attempted to use the word “goodies” seriously. I also get REALLY embarrassed when I hear people talking about handing out “goodies.”

2. Blouse. What am I, 75? I wear shirts, tops, and/or shirts or tops with buttons. I have a very distinct image in mind when I hear the word “blouse.” Cream colored, long sleeves, button sown, with cuffs that are tight at the wrist and then bell out, and ruffles down the buttons. And a high collar. THAT is a blouse.

3. Moist. Pretty much because everyone says they hate the word moist, and I’m sick of the fact that it even exists so someone can say they hate the word moist every time the opportunity to say a word you hate comes along, which, seriously, is really quite often.

4. Orgasm. One time? When I was in the third or fourth grade? I was reviewing for a science test with my mom, on plants and animals and stuff? And I accidentally shouted the word orgasm at her. I wasn’t embarrassed about it until years later when I learned said word and the incident immediately popped back into my mind, clear as day. I was trying to say organism. As in “What is something both plants an animals have in common?” and I yelled, “THEY’RE BOTH ORGASMS.” I’m dying. Right now. I’m dead from this.

5. Panties. What a horrible word. Who even came up with that? It’s like the opposite of sexy. When I’ve tried to say it, it gets all hung up in the back of my throat. I’m bringing back “underpants.” We say “underpants” in this house.

6. Corporate buzz words. See number 3 above.

Now you.

(Oh, by the way? When I say things like “I’m sure that we all…,” I’m pretty much deaf to people coming along and saying that they’re completely different from the sweeping generalization that I’ve made. It’s a problem, I know, and I totally intend on having it checked out when convenient and selective deafness stops being so beneficial to me.)

Anyway, as I was saying, we all know that making fun of one another is the best way to show affection. I mean, Phil and I? FULL OF AFFECTION. So, in the course of busting on each other all day, every day, there is occasionally a insult so stinging and so brutal that it not only burns, but is also hilarious and must be appreciated for the brilliance that it is.

For example, one time, Phil and I were sitting in the Wendy’s drive through, and I was buckling myself back in my seat after climbing over him for a clear view of the drive through menu. In the course of conversation, I asked him,

“Well, don’t you think any other guys would date me?”

“There are plenty of guys who would date you–”

“Aww–”

“– for very short periods of time.”

“Oh… wow. Sick burn!”

It is also evident within my family, as evidenced by my Christmas post from a couple of years ago.

6:45am

Kate: *opens gift of really nice dress pants* Oooooh, ahhhh, etc.

TJ: Oh wow! Those are perfect for delivering pizza!

Kate: *glares, pulls a tiny tank top out of gift box* Oooh, look at this little tank top. This will fit perfectly on my tiny little body. *pointed look at TJ* Don’t start something you can’t finish, SISTER.

TJ: Like when you started growing boobs?

Kate: … *blink*… I can’t even be mad. That was too good.

Parents: *muffle laughter so as not to encourage a Christmas throwdown before 8am*

(You should know that she no longer delivers pizza. She now manages the pizza.)

So, obviously, by these two pieces of evidence related directly to me specifically, I can obviously draw the conclusion that we all appreciate an excellent burn as much as we enjoy making them.

And I’ve got to be honest. This post has an ulterior motive. Phil has two weeks off of work (Hi! If I owe you email or a kidney or interview questions or some other such thing? Please lay your blame at his feet, because how dare he take days off work when he knows full well it throws me completely off my routines) and… wait, what? I’m just going to back out of this paragraph and start again.

So, Phil has two weeks off of work, and I don’t want to deplete my entire stocked up burn pantry due to over exposure to my significant other. So spill it, Internet. I would like to hear your sick burns. You know, the ones you had to appreciate when they were at your expense, or the ones so perfectly clever and crafted that the target had to admit its awesomeness. I want to hear your best examples, whether you be the burner, or the burnee.

Unfortunately, it was the most poorly timed walk in the history of the world, as not only were two guys on huge mowers tearing across the grass all willy nilly with no thought for what was sure to be an inevitable collision and flying limbs, but also, school had just let out, apparently, and hordes upon hordes of kids were streaming across the park.

At least, as we approached the park, it appeared that kids were crisscrossing through it to reach their homes, but as we got closer, there were definitely two distinct groups of teenagers approaching each other.

With MENACE.

So, apparently? I’ve turned into the middle point between young-but-old-enough person and old lady with regard to teenagers. When faced with one or two teenagers, I find myself to be young-but-old-enough to roll my eyes at them and their shenanigans because, come on, they don’t even realize how ridiculous they are and take themselves so seriously! I used to do that!

But I’m also verging on old person because when faced with teenagers in a pack formation, like today? I asked Phil if he had his phone and was ready to ruin some teenage fun by calling the police. Because they were advancing on each other. Menacingly. I am old lady enough to find teenagers menacing.

To be fair, there was like six or seven or maybe even eight hundred of them. Not really. But it seemed like it. Not really. I’m just trying to paint a mental picture for you that is both accurate and doesn’t make me look like a weenie. Let’s just agree that there was a SIGNIFICANT AMOUNT of teenagers.

So anyway, these two groups of teenagers are like, inching towards each other, and nothing at all is happening, so we start looking around for a place for Brinkley to play without being chased down by the Willy Nilly Mowing Co. and all of a sudden, across the park, the teenagers suddenly just converge into an arm waving knot of half-grown bodies. We didn’t even hear or see anything, it was like someone blew the teenager version of a dog whistle and they all ran to the center of what they had all silently but unanimously decided was to be the center of their action. All at once.

(You can’t even get one teenager to like, clean their room, but you can get 800 of them to act in synchronization with no audible cue? It’s like teenagers are almost as complicated as they’d like to believe they are.)

So there’s all these arms waving, and this looks pretty dramatic because keep in mind that six or seven or eight hundred teenagers have up to SIXTEEN HUNDRED ARMS to wave, but it soon became clear that in the middle of this teeming mass were two boys fighting.

So, apparently, something I wasn’t aware of as a teenager, but is suddenly very clear to me as an adult – teenagers fighting with hordes of other teenagers standing around cheering them on is SO NOT COOL. So, Phil called 911. And got a recording, of course. However, just as he was hearing the recording, someone must have blown the teenage whistle again, because they all scattered, all at once. Honestly, if it wasn’t so potentially bloody, it would have been very interesting. They all kind of act as one, those teenagers. We are pretty sure the teenager whistle sounds a lot like a parent yelling “I’M CALLING THE COPS” from her car near the park.

The whole thing seriously lasted less than 2 minutes, and of course the police showed up well after every teenager had cleared out and left nothing behind except a thick cloud of the Asshole Hormone. I don’t know when I started finding large groups of teenagers so menacing, but honesty to pete, what a bunch of fucking hooligans. Not just the two fighting, but the 798 hanging around there egging them on. Coordinated egging, even.

Arizona, I reiterate – your teenagers are assholes. But synchronized assholes, which is actually a little bit cool. Except, they fight, so take away the points I just gave them for being synchronized. So basically? Your teenagers are assholes.

So I know I kind of treat the dog too much like he’s people, but you’ve got to believe me, Internet, when I say that I am pretty sure he’s mad at me. Seriously. He is pissed off. I can TELL.

So, you know, he eats the crotch out of my underpants given the chance, but he’s pretty much always done that since I’ve lived here, that’s just a dog thing, right?

Lately, though, the house has been empty during the day except for me, and I shut myself in the office, because if I don’t, the cats sneak in and chew on wires. So Brinkley gets shut outside the room. And he ate my hat. Hats have been left all around this house his whole life and he’s never eaten one, until he deliberately sought out MINE. I KNOW it.

Since we don’t smoke anymore, he has to go outside by himself to eat and do his business, and I’ve taken to leaving him out there for 15 to 20 minutes every afternoon and walking out of this sight, so he gets used to being alone. So he destroyed a flower fot and threw plastic and soil all over the yard.

Yet given the chance? He hops right up into bed next to me and lays his head on my hip. Or he lays on the ground, clutching my purse between his paws. Or he lays on his pillow and asks me to cover him with my fleece blanket. (Shut up, yes he does.)

So, Internet, I am guessing that Brinkley is going through dog puberty, or whatever, and is extremely conflicted in his feelings towards me. Now, I know it makes him mad, but I know what is best for him and he needs to learn to eat and do his business outside all by himself. And he needs to be able to be left alone in the house without EATING MY HAT that Phil had JUST GIVEN ME as a SURPRISE PRESENT. (I was really kind of ridiculously sad about it.)

He’s all “I hate you so much, I am eating your hat, but then I will snuggle up next to you and hug your purse later.”

How am I supposed to teach a five year old dog not to be such a co-dependent butthead? And to stop eating my underpants? I mean, seriously, he goes right for the business portion of the underpants, and always mine, never Phil’s.

Basically, what I have decided to tell myself is that he just loves me SO MUCH that he’s overwhelmed and confused by it, and really, I can’t be too hard on him about that, because it’s completely understandable.

World’s Most Handsome Underpants Eater

EDIT: ALSO? I forgot to tell you. I have more evidence to support the case that the dog has personal issues with me, PERSONALLY. On the same day he ate my hat? He ate the last two pudding cups, too. And I have TOLD HIM how much I love pudding!