Friday, October 13, 2017

Women's Rights My Ass

So I'm a working mom and wife, right? That's normal thing these days. Lots of moms work full time then come home and work another full time job keeping their kids alive and their house livable. Well, I set my goals pretty high when it comes to that. I really really prefer a clean house and a kid that eats healthy, doesn't watch TOO much tv, and gets to bed at a reasonable time. Between the job, the house, and the kid my energy level is zilch.

Sounds ok, right? Nah. Because I'm leaving out the hubby. Now, he truly doesn't ask for too much. He's a great guy. He works. He takes showers. He eats what I cook without a complaint. He will changes some diapers every now and again without a hitch. He loves us both and trust me, if anyone were to cheat, it definitely wouldn't be him. He's as loyal as a lab.

Even with all that said, I still have zero interest in doing my sexy-time wifey-duty. Like, I'm tired y'all. I won't even go as far as to say "I have a headache." I made that mistake already and he came at me with that article that says studies show that sex can help headaches. Let me tell you something real quick...a MAN wrote that damn article. Not just any man. A horny man with a wife that had lots of headaches conducted that study and wrote that article.

Jerk.

And while I'm griping about people, let me say this. I'm all for women going out in the world and making there way, their own money, and being something more than Susie homemaker. But you also kinda ruined it for the rest of us. You made it to where we pretty much HAVE to get out there and work now instead of staying home and taking care of shit. So screw you. Some of us would just like to have that clean house, healthy smart kid AND satisfied husband without ALSO working somewhere else 40+ hours a week.

Crazy huh?!?

This evening, my back was killing me because I sit in an office chair all day and truly only get up to go pee for like nine and a half hours. I even eat my lunch at my desk (when I eat) therefore I don't move near enough. So I come home, my kid is wild as hell. Like, crazy wild to only be 1!!! I'm trying to figure out dinner, hold and play with her because she's missed me all day (because I have to work in the real world), clean up the mess that was already left in the kitchen from my mom/babysitter, and juggle all this other stuff, right.

Hubby gets home from work and has the luxury of going straight to shower. (I have to sneak to do that.) He shaved. Guess what that means on a Friday night? He thinks he's gonna get some. Guess what?! I DIDNT SHAVE! And mine is what matters the most :-D

So he's being all extra lovey and I'm in no damn mood so I get the babe to sleep and hide in the tub watching Hulu on my phone because this is truly the only way I ever get to watch any tv. Anyways, I watch an episode of "This is Us." (I'm trying to catch up so don't tell me anything.) I finally get out, I'm in a better mood, I think, "hey, I'm gonna relax a bit. Actually sit down for a few minutes before crashing." Five minutes in the hubby is like, "will you rub my back?" Mind you just last night he got a back rub and convinced me to rub his nasty ass feet down with oil. Who does he think he is exactly? The Queen of fucking Sheba? And heaven forbid I say something along the lines of, "you never let me fucking just sit down. The only way I can is to hide in the fucking tub or on the toilet. I mean SHIT!"

He's now in the bed and I'm in the couch for now typing this shit on my fucking teeny tiny phone because all we have is a desktop and I DONT WANT TO SIT IN A DESK CHAIR ANY MORE TODAY."

When I know he's good and asleep, I'll go to bed too. Until then...Facebook it is.

G'night

Friday, October 6, 2017

High School Reunion

This coming weekend is my 10 year high school reunion. That statement alone brought up one of two possible thoughts or sentiments for you:  "Damn, she's old!" or "Damn, I'm old!" Whichever it is, I am sure you "haven't changed a bit!"

There has been talk on Facebook for months about planning the reunion. Things like where it'll be, who's so excited to come, who can't make it, etc and I'm just stalking everyone's page because 90% of them, I have no freaking idea who they are. I decided very early on "I wasn't going to make it." I haven't made some big announcement on the fact because I am sure not one single person there cares.

While there are dozens of different cliques in high school, there wasn't a single one where I fit. And that's ok. Because they were all little bitches, even the super nice, loving, Christian we read the Bible at our lunch table every day people. One year, I remember trying to fit in wherever I could without having to smoke pot or something stupid and the only place I was welcome was at these two rednecks table because they wanted me to take up a seat so someone else wouldn't sit there. It was a mutually beneficial agreement we had and we ended up kinda sorta being friends - which consisted of a nod in the hallway between 2nd and 3rd period.

Like everyone, I was trying to find myself and figure out who the hell I was while not depending on the other 'just as clueless' KIDS to tell me. Thankfully, I made it out alive, sane, and with somewhat of an understanding that what happens in high school, stays in high school (mostly because social media was JUST up and coming and cell phones took horrible pictures and only the rich kids had them). Not to mention, you had to be one of those kids that would actually go out and participate in extracurricular activities instead of staying home studying and/or riding around with her older - not in high school - boyfriend.

When I began thinking about writing about this dreaded reunion, I happened to come across one of my favorite bloggers writing about her 20th. www.erinsays.com (You should check her out.) Thankfully, I am not in the same place she was when her 10th rolled around. I have a better grasp on who I am, what I am capable of, and I don't depend on nor care what other people think about me.

I even thought about breaking down the word "Reunion" to further justify my cynicism of it. Basically, in order to have a "reunion" you must be united in the first place and united we were not!

In closing, I will not be attending my 10th High School Reunion. Kudos to you if you attended or will attend yours!

Thursday, October 5, 2017

#PrayforLasVegas



You won't see many posts like this from me because I would rather keep things light-hearted, fun, smart-ass etc...but it's heavy on my heart this morning. I keep reading news articles and watching the news waiting on that moment that law enforcement officials uncover the motive behind such a horrible attack. Not that it would make this any easier or help matters at all but because, to me, when something of this magnitude happens, you need there to be a reason. Even if it is bogus, crazy, whacko and just plain absurd...it helps me to know that person was following what they believed.

There is NO reason whatsoever that could ever come close to justifying his actions...and I don't even care to say his name. He's not worth the time it would take to type it. The hundreds of victims names...those are the ones we should be focused on. The first responders, officers, doctors that stayed behind, strangers risking their lives for other strangers...those are the ones to be remembered.

Rabbit Trail

I know America is in the middle of some crazy ass race war...whites against blacks...blacks against whites...Hispanics mixed in the middle somewhere and Asians are like whatdefuuuuck is going on? But when something like this happens, somehow everyone seems to forget the color of skin, their backgrounds, their heritages, their raising, sexual orientation...and they help one another.

The only color that matters during a tragedy such as this is red...the blood that was shed. Everyone bleeds red. Even the son of a bitch that did this. Whether we are good, bad, ugly, fat, tall, short, skinny, black, white, yellow, purple, green, racist, gay, straight, smart, dumb, southern, northern, western, Christian, Buddhist, Islamic, atheist, local, foreign, rich, poor...I mean I could go on and on forever...the point is...we are all human. And that is the only title that should matter. Humans should help humans. Love and human decency should prevail.

Should prevail.
RED blood on the floor of one of the
Las Vegas hospitals treating shooting victims.
I bet you can't tell how many different races were here.


Unfortunately, we live in a time where it is more beneficial and financially profitable to certain groups for everyone to be against everyone. While I am not proud of the history of my family and many others owning slaves, being racist, or whatever...it happened. That doesn't make me a slave owning racist. It is history. And just because you don't like history, doesn't mean you can erase it and pretend it never happened. The goal should be to learn from it and move forward with every intention of not repeating it. If you don't know where you come from, how do you know where you're going?

Oddly enough, the movie Moana has some good life-lessons in there. One being something to the effect of, "You get where you're going by knowing where you've been." Learn from others' mistakes.

I guess I should get off my soapbox and get back to thinking about funny sarcastic stuff. I will leave with you this:

Love one another. Stop being so judgmental - at least until they give you a real reason...like being stupid. Skin color or background does not equal stupid. Stop being jackasses. Get your heads out of your asses and act like you have some sense. And stop riding my ass on the interstate. Just because I am a responsible driver and leave a safe following distance between me and the car in front of me doesn't mean I am holding you up. I am going 10+ over JUST LIKE YOU.

That was a bit of a rabbit trail. Hell, this whole post is all over the place. Deal with it. My blog anyways.


Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Something You Should Know



Today, I was thinking about just how transparent I should be here. On one hand, I think I should maintain this totally anonymous made-up persona because it might be fun to pretend to be someone else. On the other hand, I think maybe I should be the real me and show the world just how f'n crazy I really am.

I'm not the most creative person in the world so chances are, pretending to be someone else would probably only last another 3 or 4 posts at most. So, we will go with "real." You and Siri can continue to call me Queen B simply because I like it.

One thing you should know is I am modestly cocky. I throw out this "I'm always right and I know everything" vibe when inside I'm more like "I have no idea what the fuck I'm talking about!"

Generally speaking, I am a fairly smart person. I have tons of common sense which is where really hating stupidity comes in. I knew I'd never run out of things to say about stupid. I am surrounded by it everyday so there will be plenty of posts where I just bitch about the idiots I am related to, work with, or just see on the fucking road.

I am also practically allergic to being wrong. So, basically unless I KNOW I'm right about something, I won't say anything on it at all. I just keep my mouth shut. So please, find comfort in knowing...if I write it, there's truth to it. And if I ever am for some reason wrong, I'll claim it and then somehow turn it around on your ass and make you apologize for it. I'm that good.

If we back track a little, I was in therapy for quite awhile to help get over some realllllly fucked-uped-ness that happened to me. I will touch on that later I'm sure. But at an early age, I learned to either find the humor in it, write about it, or bury that shit so deep that I forgot it happened. So because I am cursed with the memory of a fucking elephant, and a lot of the shit that happened wasn't funny in the least bit, I wrote.

Then, when I began therapy in my early 20's, she suggested writing as well so...here we are. I am taking it a step further and sharing this crazy shit with you. As we progress, I would love for you to comment and participate. I am open to where this may lead. Just know, if you're a troll and super negative over stupid shit, I will delete you. Otherwise, I welcome constructive criticism.

Just Who Do I Think I Am?



On Second Thought...

Second-guessing myself, overthinking situations, re-thinking decisions is something I take pride in as much as I abhor about myself. Something I second-guessed quicker than I thought I would is this "stupid" blog.

"I don't have anything to say worth reading." "My life is too boring." "How conceded you must have to be to write a blog." "I don't have the time." "I'm to ashamed to even share this with my closest friends and family - I'll never be able to keep this up."

The negative thoughts just kept popping up after my first post. And honestly, as far as I can tell, no one has even read it or liked my facebook page or anything of the sort yet so I could take this down and pretend it never happened.

Fuck that.

I have shit to say. I have a life albeit probably a boring one to some. Who cares. Like I said in my first post...I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for me. And if I never have anyone subscribe, like, comment, follow, share, double-tap - because yes, Stupidity Defense is on Instagram too - then so be it. You can all kiss my ass.

With that said, please subscribe, like, follow, share, comment, double-tap...I would love to interact with you...whether you be trolls that I end up blocking or someone who can relate...someone who needs a laugh, or just a distraction from their shitty life...while I may be doing this for me it just makes sense for someone else to benefit.

Speaking of sharing this...I think I will share this with a select few...VERY few that I can trust not to judge, make fun of, or think I've fell off my rocker. See what they think. Can I make it? Can I do this? Is it worth the time and effort?

I'll leave you with this...if you want to do something - just do it. Nike had it right all along. Don't worry about what other people think. Most people are stupid anyways and that's the whole point to this online presence I am building. To be a place where intelligent sarcastic people can go to escape "the stupid." Because #stupidiseverywhere

Until next time folks....

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

I'm the Queen Around Here



Here We Go!

Why in the world have I waited SO freakin' long to do this? I really have no excuse other than laziness or maybe disbelief that I would have enough to say that's worth reading. But to be honest, I'm not doing this for youuuuu...I need an outlet. I need somewhere to go and say whatever the hell I want, when I want, how I want without having to justify or censor it.

I will admit, yearsss ago I started a blog, I posted a few things...and then life happened and I had better things to do. But now, damnit I have shit to say so...here we go. We will see how long this lasts and who all finds any interest in it.

Who AM I, Really?

First of all, I guess I could tell you a little about me. I'm a typical passive-aggressive, ignored, tired wife and mom who works a more than full-time job and couldn't be happier. Sounds weird, right? As we go along, you'll gain a better understanding of why I am so happy to be so seemingly miserable. For now, just know that while I may bitch and complain about shit that I'm sure we all deal with, I still like my problems.

Oh...by the way, I intend on keeping my presence online anonymous so that I can speak freely. So you lovely smartasses can call me...........Queen B.

What Do I Have to Say, Anyways?

When I thought about starting a blog, I asked myself a few questions:
  1. Who is my audience?
  2. What will I talk about?
  3. What kind of tone will I set?
I'm assuming (which I really shouldn't do because we all know what that makes me) my audience is mostly women. I knew the tone would overall be light, funny, and sarcastic. But what I would talk about...that's the doozy. Why? Because no one ever listens to me. THAT'S IT! I will talk about all the shit I want to say that no one ever listens to. Which is practically everything.

My husband is a typical man and only hears me when I say "come to the bedroom" or "Dinner's ready." My daughter (who is 1 by the way) has to listen to me ramble on and on because she hasn't mastered the selective hearing (unless Mickey is on) yet. So, you obviously desperate people get to listen to me. I'm going to go out on a limb though and ASSume again that there are more out there like me...who can relate to this silly daily struggle. Who knows, maybe you'll start a blog too!

Alright, until next time...peace out homies.