Queen of Awkward

Here's an uncomfortable situation:
I took Lilly to her theater class. I go inside to wait. Inside there is a man who looks insanely familiar. I avoid eye contact and frantically think of where I know him from. It's a uniform. Definitely know him better in uniform. Okay, so from the boat. His wife and kids aren't at all familiar. Hmmm...what the hell?!? I most of our boat people. Maybe he got off the boat. Dammit! Just squint and think. What did his name tag say?
Okay, he said hi. Hi! 
Who the hell are you?!?
I get home and suddenly realize, he is my doctor. Oooooh! Oh. Umm..hmm...
I only see him when I am having a severe case of what I will politely call "firecrotch." 
So now it's "Oooh, hello man I only see when my vagina is angrily spitting fire and acid while spewing rivers of blood. Yeah, I'm great today!"
I otherwise avoid the doctor if I can help it at all, but when my vagina gets that biblicaly angry, I get to a point where I'd be willing to perform sacrifices on small animals while a priest reads rites from a bible while dousing me with holy water. Now I get to see him more regularly. Whoo! Yeah. Think he remembers me? Oh, yeah he does. He said hi.

Porn Hunt?

The husband is out to sea. I get a request from him for porn mags. As he says "Not necessarily for reading, but to show everyone my wife is super cool!" 
Okay, I can be super cool. Whatever.
Where the hell do I get porno mags?!? I went on Amazon and they only have year subscriptions. Okay, not that. Went to Adam and Eve, many many dildos, movies, furniture?, and more! But no magazine.
Okay, I'm not going to a brick and mortar store, 3 year old in tow, to acquire one of these. 
No matter how much I want to be "super cool wife" or ruin it by purchasing a bi-curious magazine and dropping a huge obvious fleshlight into that gallon size very clear ziploc baggie.  Alas, I'll have to be cool some other day, I suppose.

Party Animal

I hate parties.
I don't know how to act. 
I don't know what's inappropriate to say.
I don't know who to talk to. 
I don't know where to sit. 
I don't know when to sit. 
I don't know where to look when I am talking to someone. 
I AM SO AWKWARD!!!!
"Oh, hi! How're you doing?" do I look at your eyes? No, no, no, too much eye contact. Okay, how about your hairline? No, not there either. You look confused. Hmm..your nose? Nope, too close to the eyes. Maybe your shirt. No! Now you're looking at me like I'm a pervert. Noo, I wasn't checking your boobs out! Shit.
"Ohh, Hi! Oh, you want a hug" And now I've effectively headbutted you. Well.
"Sorry! I'm not much of a hugger. Or a toucher!" That wasn't rude, right? A little. Dammit.
I don't know what to do with my hands. Is there a water bottle or something I could hold? Yay, over there. Now I'm holding this and I don't have to decide if I'm going to cross my arms or let them dangle like an ape. Take lots of sips whenever you make accidental eye contact so you can break it real quick.
"Here, sit here." 
"Thanks!" Great, I looked that uncomfortable. Okay I'll sit here. Remember! Try to keep your mouth shut lest your foot find it's way in again.
Oooh, food. Let's get some of that. That'll give you a good excuse to shut up. Okay, remember. Little bites. Little lady-like bites. Chew slowly. If you take small bites you can keep things from falling out of your mouth. Well, hello melted cheese. So much for keeping things from falling out of my mouth.
Have I said hi to everyone I know? Better look around and double check. Nope, there's one. Oops, inadvertent eye contact while your mouth was full. That had to look nice. Do I say hi now? I already made eye contact. Fuck it, they can say hi to me.  
"There's a book up there for you to put 'motherly advice' in!" Uh, okay. You want me to be funny, right? Yeah, let's go with funny.
Was the story about shit painting walls too much for a baby shower? Crap! Probably, idiot. Why can't I write nice things?!? What's wrong with "cherish every moment"? Okay, you can recover this. "Hey, don't read my advice out loud" See? That'll work, right? And now there's people up there reading it. Kids even. Shit, shit, shit, shit. Okay, um, it was practical advice. Advice I wished I'd had. That's what I'll tell her later. Why did I have to write it in ink?! 
So I kept my mouth shut, but was unable to stop my hand from writing something that put my foot in my mouth, anyway 
Can't win them all, can I? Or any, really.
I'll bet I stink like stress sweat. Nope, still okay, but now I've been caught checking for pit stink.
You know what? I'm out of babysitter time anyway. I have to go. Just as well, I think I've about awkwarded this place up as much as I possibly can. Time to take that show back home!
Make sure you say bye to everyone. Okay I missed some people. Now I look rude. Shit, abandon ship! Abandon ship!
Okay, I made it to my car. Phew! Breathe deep. Alone at last!!
Even though I'm terrible at parties. Just awful, really. I keep going because I know it's good for me and I'll never get better at it if I don't keep trying. I really do appreciate the invitation, too. I just have no way to show it.
I apologize deeply to everyone who has to deal with me, though! Sorry!
On the plus side, it gives me great blog material.

Lilly

I love that little spitfire even though she routinely tests my patience and never, ever, ever, does what she's told without some form of protest which is enough to make me cross eyed a lot of days.
I was tucking her in tonight and told her to have sweet dreams and she said:
"I don't have sweet dreams when I have bad days. I have nightmares."
"Why was today bad?"
"Well, I have bad days on days I've been bullied."
"Who bullied you?"
"You know that boy. I told you about him. Roberts (I'm guessing it's Robert, but she insists the 's' is in there)."
"How did he bully you?"
"Well, when I talk to him he just covers his ears and doesn't listen!"
"Lilly, that isn't polite, but that's not bullying. He just doesn't want to talk to you"
"Well he also tells his brother that I'm a bully!"
"Lilly, that's not bullying"
"He says I pick my nose and eat it!"
"Do you?"
Quietly "Yes. But I don't like to be made fun of!!!" 
"Okay, Lilly, that isn't very nice of him, but you have got to stop doing that, especially at school. It's gross and you'll get made fun of."
Completely undeterred, "I wrote him a note that said 'You are good' and gave it to him and he just crumpled it up!"
Awww, now I feel bad for her!
"Sweetie, what did you do? Did you tell him that wasn't nice?"
"I told him he hurt my feelings! And he said he didn't care" and then she burst into tears.
Aww, I love that little spitfire. Even though I almost immediately tripped over her shoes she left in the hallway and then found the lunchbox she, once again, didn't empty out.
This is all the funnier because Nicole was just relating to me at dinner about an older girl who got in their face and yelled at them, and Lilly didn't recall that at all, but that little boy who dares to not be her friend? Well, we can't stand for that.

Typical Day

A Day in the life.
Aric the boy is potty trained, but he's only three, so he can't be trusted wiping his own butt. 
I wipe red glitter.
This is one of two things,
1) He got into his sister's glitter lip gloss. Again.
2) He got into my glitter glue. Again.
I tell Nicole, "Hey, I wiped Aric's butt, I found red glitter. Whatever red glittery lip gloss you owned is no more"
"I don't have red glitter lip gloss"
Dammit.

Old People and Netflix

Despite having been a radioman in the Navy in her day, my mom is somehow forcibly ignorant of a computer. This morning she asks 
"What is that thing in my room I'm watching movies on? An Xbox?"
"No, mom, it's a Wii. This thing in my living room is the Xbox." I say as I point at the Xbox
"So what's an Xbox then?"
"That on top of my TV is the Xbox."
"What does it do?"
"Same as the Wii. It's just a game system and you can watch movies or Netflix on it."
"So can I burn the movies off of the Wii onto a disk and watch them anytime?" 
"No, mom, that's Netflix. You can watch that anywhere that gets Netflix"
"So am I running up your cable bill by watching it all the time? I love it except there's no commercials and if I have to get up to pee I miss a whole bunch!" 
"Mom! Pause it for the love of god! And no, you're not running up my cable bill. It's a subscription service that I pay around $15 a month for. Watch all you want"
"Oh, neat! Does that come with cable? Because I don't have cable anymore I only have dish or whatever."
"No mom, you just need an Internet connection."
"Does that come with Google?"
"No?"
"Can I get it on the computer?"
"Yes"
I'm fairly certain she still doesn't know what I'm talking about and we'll continue to have this conversation about how baffling netflix is.

Momisms

I've been sitting on this blog for some time debating whether or not to publish it, but with the advent of my mom staying with me, what the hell! I'll do it. Just don't mention any of this to her should you meet her. I do not want to get my ass chewed out for making fun of her, which I'm not doing. I love my mom and hope to be half as strong as she is one day. She is one tough broad. Take it for what it is; hilarity.

For those who don't know me in real life, my mom is what other's politely refer to as a "character" and what the courts call "incompetent" and what local city halls call a "nusance" Just polite ways of saying my mom ain't right. She has given me lots of laughs and with that I will share with you some conversations that actually happened between my mom and myself.

Conversation 1
The setup: My mom was telling me about her boyfriend's latest construction project. He had just helped complete this big beautiful house and took my mom on a tour of it with his boss because he forgets mom and people don't mix. This is what she had to say about it:
"It's this big gorgeous house in the country, but his boss is an idiot. That is a house for homos. The floor is shiny, there are windows everywhere and stainless steel appliances. No woman is going to want to clean all the fingerprints and shit off that! That's a house for homos! And the shower is huge! You could fit five big burly homos in there!" Keep in mind that she's recounting what she was saying as she was walking through the house, not her private thoughts.

Conversation 2
The setup: My mom is going to come visit and she was asking me about what kind of toys she could bring for the girls.
"Is it okay if I bring the girls a barbie horse?"
"Barbie horse?"
"Yeah, you just push it's butthole and it runs really fast!"
"What in the what what?"

Conversation 3
The setup: My mom is a collector. She's also a major hoarder. She was a hoarder before any of those shows came out and made it cool. I grew up like that, only instead of garbage, I was stepping over piles and piles of antiques and other collectibles. The house itself was actually clean, just extremely cluttered. Well, she lives near the American Picker people. Here's the thing, my mom hates them. She has always hated antique dealers and loathes what they do. They really really want to get a look around at her stuff. Hell, everyone does. My mom's stuff is cool as hell! Right now she lives on a run down farm out in the country that looks a little like a house you would see in a horror movie while yelling "Don't go in there, you idiots!". It's sort of House of 1000 corpses looking.  She also happens to have a couple of big rottweilers. I think you can see where this is headed.
"Those son of a bitches came out here to the farm with their cameras and when Bandit (the dog) came out there to check them out, they jumped back into their truck just like a bunch of mexicans! Bandit is a big dog, but he just wanted to check them out, he wasn't gonna hurt them, but boy does he scare those mexicans!"
Holy crap, please for the love of all that's holy, don't put my mom on tv. Later she told me she agreed to let one of their guys in there and no cameras. I'm pretty sure he won't be leaving.
I love my mom.

Conversation 4
My mom is in the room with me while I'm talking to my best friend. My friend wails that she thinks she's a leper. My mom says "Come to Georgia! They love their lepers here!"
"Have you seen any lepers around, mom?"
"Yeah, Georgia is real proud of their retards! They parade them around, even!"
"Holy shit, mom. Did you just equate being a leper with being retarded?!?"

Conversation 5
My mom was telling me how she found those timers that you put on your electronics to make them turn on at odd times so people will think you're home and won't rob you. Well, she hooked hers up to a radio and a light and a tv. But her neighbors know she's not home, so she's been telling them the house is haunted! It's ghosts in there! And then she told them all about the ghost until they told her about someone who died there and now she just keeps embelishing the story so now the neighborhood believes her house is haunted and won't go near it. Trolling like a boss.

Speaking of trolling, her boyfriend has bushy eyebrows. When he's sleeping she messes with them. One time she put googly eyes on each one so they would look like fighting squirrels, she said. The other time she was so bothered by how bushy his eyebrows were that she tried to trim them in his sleep. She ended up trimming a bald spot into the middle of each brow, if you can imagine for a moment what a bald spot in the middle of bushy eyebrows would look like. The poor guy is involved with a master troll.

pictured above is not the victim, but a member of  House Atreides with similar eyebrows