Things that don't make sense

1.  I love this shirt.  Love it.  I wish I could wear it for my birthday.

Heartbreaker Top, in Peacock by Of Two Minds

2.  but it's $324.


Those two things just don't make any sense to me.  I like a shirt that costs what?  Does it know that it's not even a sweater!?  Or a leather bag?  I feel like I should at some point understand women's clothing.  Is this going to be on the test?

Rescue from the Coffee Lagoon

I have never read mommyblogs, satirically written or otherwise, but I have to say if I DID read them then I'd definitely put Bedtimes are for Suckers on my list. I liked most of the posts but this one was pretty funny for me personally since our table is a freaking mess most of the time (what isn't.. actually). In fact, since I have Monday's for just me and my little Gabey, the table presently has a shrine to Ethan's trains.. just as he left them this morning to go to school. God help me if he were ever in an accident and I went insane and decided we were going to preserve his things exactly as they were until he returned home. We'd literally have to leave the house as it would be functionally unliveable.

The funnier part of the post was my being unaware that I really dropped the ball on the "LOL look what a mess my kid made" photo! And oh, I do have one, of sorts. I'll show you in a minute. First, it is the simple fact that my blog is not about being a mommy; that's way too specific.. my blog would only dream of being so focused on something! It's so high on goofballs there is no way to ever know what it's about.. and believe me, I've been asked!

That being said I assume someone familiar with my overall personality would believe I'd totally find all of that stuff precious and super funny.. but that just isn't the case folks. I'm extremely dull when it comes to fun via disastrous messes. I do not know why since I would love to have a parent like that.. but no, I don't seem to ever reach for my camera. If I am making a motion like I am looking for something at all it's probably patience. Anyone see my extra set of patience? I was sure I had it in the kitchen last. Like the time Ethan was 2 and he found the Peneten diaper cream, and painted himself and our dark hardwood floors with it. I sat there after cleaning him, with a knife and other various small tools for 25 mins trying to get that white waterproof goop out of the tiny cracks it filled in between the floor boards. I did not think of getting my camera once; how odd. But yes I do have one "LOL look what a mess my kid made" photo.. it exists! Ethan decided he was going to make it snow indoors.

In the process he antique'd himself with baby powder and the best part is this was all about 30 mins before my grandparents were coming over. I didn't intend him to be wearing a UFC shirt by the way, but it was pretty appropriate for this picture. It looks like he knocked down a wall to get that water bottle.


I admit I did find one thing he used to do pretty funny.. constantly rescuing Diego from the coffee lagoon.

Oooooo nooooo!

Then I remember the time I found him on my suede chair, somehow finding and then biting a pen in half... blue ink everywhere... I did not know whether to be afraid or somewhat impressed with that one. If only everything could be the coffee lagoon, I could start a website called stuffinmycoffee.com

Frightening Search of the Week

It's been an extremely long time since I've highlighted a search of the week but I had to seriously pause at someone finding my site by googling "having babies in the shower"

Since this website has nothing to do with that I feel it's my duty as a human being to answer the query ..non-judgementally *ahem* the shower is not the place to be having babies. I don't care if you heard it was the new cool way of having babies from trendy moms on the internet; if you'd like to have a baby in the shower I'll advise you there's no need to be a hero.. go to a hospital. They have showers there too if you're insistant upon having a baby there. Or in case you were looking for stories of ladies accidentally having babies in the shower.. don't worry, it'd be easy to step out and call yourself a cab if that were to happen.

If that search had nothing to do with that and was about an actual 'baby shower' somehow, you need to take a course on how to Google for the future. You aren't doing it right.

Chapter 5: Sonofa..

On the cover of Time Magazine...?

If my life was in actual, real chapters, because I thought I was famous enough for more than 10 people to read about my whole life and decided I needed to get super rich... I'd call this next one "Fucking Bitch Who Stole My Leather Jacket". Just kidding.. I have no idea what I'd call it probably other than you're not going to believe this bullshit. I was reminded of said chapter of bullshit, consisting of about a year or so of my life, by some innocuous thing like buying a certain kind of pasta side dish at the store. Yeah, really, pasta.

It's not as if I ever actually forgot about it but I may as well have being as disconnected with it as I am. When I was 13, a situation conspired where my family basically sheltered a 15 year old runaway girl until she turned 16 and therefore somehow not wanted by the police. She ended up staying longer than she was welcome. We'll call her Tiffany for the purposes of my story. My name is still Ann-Marie by the way.. in case you thought this was some kind of skit I was doing.

Anyhow, the specifics don't matter unless you'd just like me to give you a good hour of reading about why I should have never escaped therapy, but while I essentially lived with this person she had decided we were going to be best friends. 24/7. That wouldn't have been terrible if she wasn't a complete freak who, unlike a real best friend or sister, tried to make things like showering with me to save time or dating a family member of mine seem like "totally normal" shit .. which nobody else seemed to be present enough to notice WAS NOT NORMAL SHIT. You know, like that episode of Twilight Zone where everyone is a pig face and is horrified to look at a normal face. Well Tiffany, the giant gap toothed 'pig face' who did end up stealing my leather jacket when she left, liked to make this one Butter and Herb side dish from a package for dinner basically every day and I accidentally made it for dinner a couple nights ago. I couldn't eat very much. I am 28 and I am not ready to eat that pasta. I may never be ready to eat that pasta. It's shitty pasta anyway so I don't even want to buy it, it was on sale, so she can go fuck herself.

Did I just scare you all? Anyone? Bueller? It was only a summary chapter, everyone, if I actually wrote the whole thing.. I would have surely swore about 800 more times, at nobody. Ahh, I know the perfect way to end this post the way it deserves. Cunt.. balls..