Trashy Magazines Anonymous

Hi, my name is Em and I am addicted to celebrity gossip. It's been one week, two days since my last purchase of In Touch Weekly. I haven't really felt the urge to purchase another one except then I saw all the news about Britney Spears and the OK magazine photo shoot. I heard it comes out today and I'm having a very hard time not running out to the store. Fortunately my sponsor (aka my husband) is holding me back with his sarcasm and overall disdain for my addiction. However, he does occasionally feed it when he goes to the store and comes home with an Us Weekly just for me. I can't decide if he's just being nice or wants to get into my pants. Probably both.

short-term memory

Oh short-term memory, how I miss you! We used to be so good together. Remember when we we could walk in a room and you would tell me exactly what I needed to get? I'd start folding the laundry on the floor but you would remind me that's not what we came to do. Remember those times at the grocery store when I'd want to leave, but then you'd tell me I needed to get the hamburger for that night's dinner? Those were good times, short-term memory. Why did it have to end? Why did you have to leave me? Now I'm lost in a sea of to-do lists, wandering aimlessly from room to room, wondering what the heck I went in there for.

the bearded lady

WTF is up with this hair on my upper lip?! What the heck am I supposed to do with it? Grow it out into a full-blown Fu Manchu? Not really the look I'm trying to go for here.

THAT mom

Just to clarify a few things here - I am not THAT mom. You know the type, the moms that sign their kids up for every activity under the sun, make sure they know how to read before Kindergarten, get sad at the thought of leaving the kids for a weekend, and NEVER admit to harboring any negative thoughts about being a parent. In fact, I'm pretty much the antithesis of THAT mom. I'll begrudgingly sign my kid up for an activity, only to miss half of it because we all wanted to sleep in instead, my 4 year old doesn't recognize letters and in fact calls them all numbers, and I salivate at the idea of leaving my kids for the weekend.

Social butterfly

So Hope and I have decided to plan a party. Whenever I start feeling down in the dumps it's time for me to throw a party, which is weird because I've always considered myself to be an introvert (you know the type, most nights I'd like to sit by myself and read a good book). Anyways, I love being social - most of the time. I think because I stay home and go many days speaking only to my kids and husband (and those times being constantly interrupted). So every so often I get the chance to socialize with other adults and attempt to show off my wit and charisma (HA!). And during the party I always think to myself "see, people are laughing at something I said. I'm not just a boring lump with nothing to say." But then after the party the self-recriminations start - "I talked nonstop! Why didn't someone tell me to shut up?! I'm a complete and total dork!" So then I vow at the next party I'm going to make an effort to NOT be a complete jabberbox. And then the social isolation begins again, then another party where I can't keep my trap shut....you see the cycle here. I'm like a jack-in-the-box, safely tucked away in my little box and when you let me out - bam! It's diarrhea of the mouth time.

pop and lock

After reading my last post I decided I needed to clear up something - I love to dance but I am not necessarily a good dancer. I made it sound like I was. I like to think I look a lot better than I really do. In my mind I dance just like those pop stars (young whippersnappers) but I'm sure I look more like Elaine from Seinfeld - complete with the "white-man overbite." And even when I do happen to learn a new "move" I still don't look cool doing it. And just like that episode of Seinfeld if someone were to videotape me (heaven forbid if there's one out there somewhere) and play it back to me I'm sure I would recoil in horror and apologize to all of those who had to bear witness to me getting my groove on.

do the robot

I really want to go dancing. I never get to, because honestly where am I going to go? The Jukebox (yes, it's an actual place in my town)? No, for me to go anywhere involves arranging childcare (HA!) and driving at least 2 hours (I live in the sticks). Not to mention if I want to go with my friends then we're talking at least a 6 month advance notice.

You want to know why I love dancing (probably not, right)? It makes me feel like a hot, sexy woman. Not a mother, definitely not a housewife, but a shade of who I used to be. And I can make believe that there are men out there who are watching me and thinking, "Dang, that girl can move," instead of "Dang, she needs to put on some make-up."

ballocks

You know what I like? British slang. Actually, I like any type of slang for that matter (hence the title of this blog, FYI). I pretty much just enjoy words in general, unless they are technical in nature (then my brain turns to mush).

Stupid belly

I have a hate/hate relationship with my belly. Ever since I had kids it has caused me nothing but grief. It's so NOT fair that women are the ones to get pregnant. I feel like I have my own marsupial pouch and maybe I wouldn't mind it so much if it would actually serve some purpose, but it just hangs there like a sack of goo. F-ing belly.

good grief

So after starting up this blog yesterday I decided to check out a few others. I went to a couple of the "blogs of the day" recommendations. Good grief! Half of them I couldn't understand (I was left feeling quite dumb) and the other half were all super-teched out. I'm assuming that there are others like me who just want to ramble on (and on and on...) about whatever and have no computer skills but I have yet to find them. Mediocre-bloggers unite!

You know, I'm somewhat embarassed to even tell people that I have a blog after reading what I just wrote.

I have no idea what I'm doing

So my friend Hope and I were taking a walk last night (a miracle in of itself since we both have kids and husbands, both topics best left for another post) and we were talking about how even though we are both SAHMs ("stay-at-home moms" for all of you who don't read Parenting magazine) we don't want our identities wrapped up in being mothers. This led us to our next topic of "what do you want to be when you grow up." In my previous life I did a short stint as a highschool Spanish teacher, a position I don't wish to return to (once again, a topic that will probably show up in another post down the road). So that begs the question - what the hell do I want to do instead of teaching? Oprah always says "do what you love," well what if you love eating chocolate chip cookies? I can't make a career of eating chocolate chip cookies (or could I? hmm...). Seriously, I love to talk, so my secret fantasy is to have my own radio show but usually when I tell people this they burst into giggles, including myself. My friend Hope (who might be a genius) told me that I should create a blog. Of course I then replied with a very intelligent "huh?" So after much research (about 10 minutes worth I'd say) on the internet figuring out how to create a blog I decided to take her advice. So here I am world! And all you English professors out there who hate my prolific use of parentheses and incorrect punctuation can stuff it.