welcome to my brain.

Sometimes a lot of weird stuff gently floats along in my brain. Usually I keep those random thoughts and observations to myself because I like to keep up the illusion that I'm kind of normal, but I am feeling a little filterless today.

So, 

Don't you think it would be awesome if someone started a line of opposite products?  Like you know how they have SmartWater?  Someone should make DumbWater.  I think it could be really a big seller.  Or instead of North Face, they could have South Face.  Or like Jessica Alba has a line of organic and healthy products from the Honest Co, I think someone should make the Liars Co.  They could sell shitty stuff with MSG and red dye in them.

Receptionists should probably actually be called Deceptionists, because they often have to lie and say that their boss isn't available when they really are, but they just don't want to talk to you because you're boring. Or something like that.

Are Bert and Ernie really gay?  Not that there's anything wrong with that.

What's the opposite of FML?

You know how apparently people are using the eggplant emoji in reference to a guy's size in the pants?  If that's the case, don't you think that they should have a baby carrot emoji for the guys that are unfortunately less endowed?

I think most call centers should start their recordings with "Press One for Stupid."  Things might be a little more streamlined if you just admitted it in the beginning.

I always thought you could grow your nose holes, but apparently you can't! I think they stay the same forever.  Ears too!

Did you know that "Netflix and chill" is apparently the new(ish) code for "hookup?" So if you asked your kid what he and his girlfriend did last night and he says, "Oh, we just watched Netflix and chilled," you should probably buy him a box of condoms.

omg, acronyms make me happy. rotfl.

I like words.  I'm a wordie.  I tend to do a lot of listening, so I often pick things apart - how certain words make you feel, how some strike you as funny or disgusting or annoying.

I think a lot of word people don't love acronyms.  Like you're tarnishing something by using them.  I'm not sure what exactly is being tarnished by abbreviating a term, but they think something is.  The dictionary?  The English language?  I think that's kind of dumb.  I love acronyms.  I think admitting that out loud may make me sound a little weird. 

Eh, I don't care, I wear my weirdness proudly.  

I have this thing though, with acronyms.  Whenever I hear them or see them, I mentally switch the words up to make them mean something else.  Like, what if when you were texting someone WTF, it didn't mean what the fuck?

It could mean all sorts of things.  Like, Where's the food?  Or Who took Fluffy?  Wash the floor, wrong turn, freak!  Wipe the front, wank the flank, where's the fish?  Wiggle toes first, wear torn flannel, warty toad feet, we're too fat!  Who's that fool?

Or the acronym for stay at home mom, you know, SAHM.  That could certainly stand for plenty of other things: 

so annoyed, hit me
special access husband material

so awesome, have meat

smile at huge mouths

slap a ho much?

strange ankles, help me

shoot a horny man

sleep angrily, he'll mope

snare a hungry mouse

smelly ass, happy monkeys

stupid annoying happy meals

simple and humble mother

she always hears moaning

snarky about hipster moms

sloppy ass hairy mess

shit ass ho motherfucker

super awesome helluva mama

stare at hippos much?

strip after he moos

slimy apples have maggots

Or, how about LOL?!  

loose old loonie

lame or lumpy

look! our laundry!

losers only limp

lunch, or linner?

lift our legs

large oompa loomp

losers often linger

leave our lunch

locate old lobsters

Oh man.  I think I better quit now.  I could do this all day.  So anyway, TTYL, BFF.  (try to yell louder, big fat freak)  BRB GF!  (bring ripe bananas good fellow!)  JK, GTG.  (Just kiss, grab ten guys) 

Please, somebody stop me.

OMG, MYOB! SMH...(Obvious mean girl, make your own bread! Stop mating hamsters...)

OK, I'm done now.  Phew.

i love lists. i love lamp.

*repost
Somewhere out there is a really really funny blog post that this lady wrote about 23 things she has learned so far in her lifetime.  I have searched and googled and binged and for the life of me, I can't seem to find it.  It was hilarious.  And it gave me the idea for this post.  I wish I could find it to share with you.


Twenty Three Things that I have Learned:


One:  Those new hand dryer things are very blowy.  Seriously, some of the new ones are like industrial strength and they absolutely have the power to flip your dress up Marilyn Monroe style.  However, it is very amusing to watch that crazy strong air moving the skin on your hands around.


Two:  Just let your kid wear the fringed pleather cowboy boots with the tacky Christmas dress to school if she really wants to.  Or also in my case, the full on sparkly ballet costume including matching headdress thing.  Because in the scheme of life, who really cares?  If it makes your kid feel happy and awesome, that definitely matters more than your mild embarrassment over the double takes and weird looks.  Trust me, other parents totally get it.  I promise you they do not think you picked that hideous outfit out.  


Three: Appreciate your skin when it is flawless and young.  Because there will come a time when your kids ask you if you're mad every day because your wrinkled forehead totally looks like a scowl.  There is virtually no way to keep it as great as it was in your twenties.  So love it, and take care of it while you can.  


Four: In keeping with that theme, also appreciate and take care of your bod when its young and tight and cute.  You can't fight gravity and age, but you can slow the hands of time a little.  Take my word for it, it fucking sucks to hear, "Mommy, why do you have those dents in your leg?"  Slather up with sunscreen and good lotion now and it will pay off later.


Five:  You know that little "ass practically on the ground" squat that two-year-olds can get into, and stay into for the duration of an entire episode of Dora the Explorer?  Yeah, don't attempt that.  Or if you do, definitely have somebody stronger than a two-year-old nearby to help you get up off the floor.  Because I think the ability to hold that squat goes away somewhere around the same time as the your amazing skin and tight bod.  Also, I'm pretty sure that the same goes for attempting cartwheels and herkies when you're old enough to have a teenager. 


Six: When you've been standing on line to get into Test Track at Epcot for an hour and fifteen minutes with cranky annoying kids and sweat on your brow, and you notice that the guy in front of you all of a sudden is chatting heavily with a girl that just "happened" to walk by, please recognize that you just got scammed with the traditional "chat and cut" move that sly people try to use to jump the line.  How you choose to deal with that offense is entirely up to you.


Seven: A snore now will be a snore later.  It doesn't matter if they are freaking adorable and a great kisser.  If you have nothing in common (besides the great kissing), nothing to talk about and the person is just plain boring, you will never be able to change that.


Eight:  You don't have to be fall off the bar stool drunk, but let's faced it, talking to certain people is just way more tolerable with alcohol in your system.  I'd say a mellow three drinks or so should do the trick if you need a buffer.


Nine: And on that note, never drink a double bottle of cheap wine by yourself.  Unless you were planning on throwing up in, on or near your bed, and having the worst fucking hangover of your life the next day.


Ten:  There are two kinds of people in the world:  party makers, and party fillers.  If you're fun to be around, chat and generally have a good time, you're probably a maker.  If you stand there looking at your drink and the clock and talking on your cell phone the entire party, you're probably a filler.  You should really figure that out.


Eleven: Everybody needs somebody.  Be a somebody.  It feels really good.


Twelve: Small hands and feet don't necessarily mean anything other than you have small hands and feet.  Give the guy with the little fingers a chance, he may just surprise you.


Thirteen:  You can pretend you don't hear that awful thumpy bumping a car makes when the tire is flat because you don't want to deal with the fact that your tire is flat, but pretending something doesn't exist won't make it not exist.  You have to deal with shitty things sometimes, just get it over with now, because it only gets worse the longer you wait.


Fourteen:  Perfection doesn't actually exist.  So quit knocking yourself out trying to find it or be it.


Fifteen:  If you quit something to avoid failure, you've pretty much actually failed.  


Sixteen:  Ridiculously good looking guys are dicks.  I don't mean to generalize on an entire population, but I would venture a guess that it is true approximately 97% of the time.  It has to be a proven scientific fact somewhere.  Because there's just no denying that when you're extremely attractive, you get away with much more.  And it's a rare person that can be hot and humble and nice and sweet all at the same time.


Seventeen: Recognize that you can't make everyone happy.  Sometimes, you just need to worry about what makes you happy.  And that's OK.  Really.


Eighteen:  Good looks will only get you so far, and that stuff eventually fades.  Smart and kind and genuine usually lasts forever.  Seek those kind of people and surround yourself with them.  Better yet, be one of those kind of people.


Nineteen:  Realize that nobody is looking at you and nobody cares.  And if they are looking and they do care, it's none of your business what they are thinking anyway.  If you don't do things because you are worried about what people might think or say, or you're afraid you'll look stupid or mess up in front of someone, you're tossing away potential valuable experiences. When someone dies, you don't usually hear people say, "Remember that time when she was so pretty..."  You hear, "Remember that time when she totally went for it and ended up hitting a home run?"


Twenty:  Don't leave things on the table.  Too many times people walk away from a situation and say, "I should have..." and feel regret.  Regrets suck.


Twenty One:  Trust people. Life is hard if you have a green pit of worried jealousy in your stomach all of the time.  If someone is going to deceive you, its going to happen whether you're up their ass or not.


Twenty Two: If you are in the line that is going at a snail's pace and you are watching everyone moving swiftly through another line, as soon as you make the decision to bail and switch lanes - it's almost a give in that your original line is going to speed up and you're going to feel pissed that you didn't just wait it out.  Sometimes you have to wait it out.


Twenty Three: A crappy bra isn't your friend.  Do yourself a favor get fitted.  Suck it up and let the girl at Victoria's Secret feel you up for a second, and take a true measurement of your boobs.  Everything looks better when your bra fits right.

monday listicle - things that make you go hmm

So I've been reading this new to me blog, The Good Life, and it's fun and funny.  And guess what?  That Stasha does a feature thing that is called Monday Listicles.  There are different topics every Monday where you list ten things, then link up.  Well.  You all know how much I love lists.  So I have to participate.  Because, you know, it would be a crime if I passed up an opportunity to write a list and link it to other list writers and then like, love my list so hard.  So apparently this week's topic is "Ten Things that make you go hmmm."  Well huh.  This shouldn't be too hard for an opinionated girl like myself.

It makes me go hmmm when I step on a piece of chewed up gum in the parking lot.

It make me go hmmm when I find a used band-aid just like, somewhere that is not in the actual garbage.

It makes me go hmmm when everybody throws their dirty laundry in front of the laundry room door.  As opposed to inside the laundry room.

It makes me go hmmm when I look nice in a dressing room mirror, but look like a disgusting oaf in my own mirror.

It makes me go hmmm that people take my things and do not put them back.  Such as my shampoo.  My razor.  My hairbrush.  You know.  That.

It makes me go hmmm when I see someone being mean to their kid/s in public. Not like, being a parent reprimanding or correcting, just like, being a mean, mean person.

It makes me go hmmm when people make rude comments to and about each 
other all over the internet.

It makes me go hmmm when people are so judgmental about one another.  As if they are perfect.

It makes me go hmmm when people begrudge you for your good fortune.

It makes me go hmmm that I could come up with these things all. day. long.

the "episode of Hoarders" room

So the other night I freaking organized my "episode of Hoarders" room.  Finally.  It took forever.  We refer to the guest room as "the episode of Hoarders room" because no kidding whatsoever, it was embarrassing.  So embarrassing in fact, that there is no possible way that I would ever post a picture of it.  Seriously you guys.  Straight up mortifying.

My house is sparkling from top to bottom pretty much, which feels great, because I've been in full on spring cleaning mode.  I can't take credit for all of it, the new cleaning lady Yvonne has been doing the hard stuff.  But it still feels awesome.  That stupid room was the bane of my existence.  I didn't even let the cleaning lady step one foot in there, because it was horrendous.  In fact, I obsessively made sure the door was closed tight when she was doing the upstairs.  I don't even know how it got so out of control!  Maybe because I could close the door and I wouldn't have to look at it.

So mostly it was all about clothes.  I have the hardest time just getting rid of clothes.  Every half year or so, I put the three younger kids outgrown clothes in tubs and put them away.  For what?  A rainy day?   I have no idea!  Clothes from the three kids at home and me and my husband (and some of Kara's outgrown stuff too!) means a ridiculous amount of outgrown clothes.  Seriously ridiculous.  I don't know why I can't just get rid of them! 

Because I know I could sell them on eBay and make a boatload of cash!  Maybe that's why.  Except actually implementing that plan has been rather daunting.  Maybe I'll just put them all out for the annual town-wide Yard Sale Day.  

Well so anyway, I was out of tubs.  So you know, instead of just going to get new tubs,  I'd kind of just pile things up on the floor.  Don't judge me!  Then, somehow, my crafty girl pile got out of control.  The guest room doubles as my crafty girl room.  Actually, the guest room triples as a crafty girl room because not only is it a guest room and crafty room, it is also a laundry folding room.  Because just plopping a pile of clean laundry on the bed when you're on your way out the door is so much easier than folding it immediately.  Right?  Works for me!

Or, maybe not.  Maybe it doesn't work for me.  Because clearly, I was loosing control, being a shitty housewife with a hidden hoarder room.  I'm so ashamed.

Well, so after the great Cleanup of 2012 (that's what I will now refer this momentous occasion as), the boys carted all of the newly filled tubs away for Yard Sale Day.  My crafty space is nice and situated, and my clean laundry is all folded and put away.  And I even got a few garbage bags full of stuff to bring to the donation bin in town.

It feels pretty great to not feel so overwhelmed with the stupid room.  And now I can let the cleaning lady in there next week to re-straighten it.  Perfect!

and yet somehow, I'm discussing crumbs in my bra. TMI?

You know when you're eating something crumby and crumbs falls right into your bra?


No?


Well, how about just imagine that scenario if you can't identify with it personally. 


So yeah.  The crumb in the bra thing.  It happens.  And I tend to wear v-neck t-shirts a lot, so I often get crumbs in my bra.  Usually though, I manage to get them out without too much hassle.  It can be tricky in public, but you know, sometimes you just have to get down into your bra and do what you have to do.  I know how to be discreet.


Except if I get a coffee cake crumb in my bra.  Because you know, those crumbs are so moist (ugh!) dampish (I looked up a synonym for that skeevy m word and DAMPISH was it.  Really?  That's all I have to work with?).  They are so dampish that they stick to your skin and you actually have to pretty much do a crumb-ectomy to get rid of them.  It's a fairly risky operation.  It typically involves having to have a little privacy, you know, like an escape to the privacy of a good bathroom stall.  Those things have a way of migrating right on down to the underbelly of your boob.  It can be kind of irritating, like a stone in your sneaker almost.  You just have to get them out of there.


I love coffee cake.  You know those little Drake's cakes?  They are so my favorite little processed yummy things... I have a weakness.  I could eat far too many for it to be considered acceptable behavior.  Kind of similar to my weakness for Double Stuf Oreo cookies.  Incidentally, the Double Stuf crumbs migrate deep in the bra too.  In case you were unsure.

Is it shameful if googling this made my mouth water a little?

The CITB (crumb in the bra) thing is clearly a girl problem,  and most certainly a first world girl problem.  Because I'm pretty sure they don't sell Drake's cakes in the jungles of Uganda.  And you know, even if they did sell Drake's cakes in the jungles of Uganda (Are there jungles in Uganda?  I'm not very geographically inclined, so if there aren't jungles there, feel free to just shoot me a quick email telling me where a good jungle is so I can come off as intelligent and worthy of jungle talk), the women that live there probably don't wear bras.  I've seen National Geographic.  Those women pretty much go topless all of the time.   Personally, I think it might get a little chilly going topless all of the time, but obviously it's pretty hot in the jungle.  Hot and filled with weird snakes and things that I wouldn't want eyeballing my bare boob like it is dinner.


Besides being a little chilly and snake-ish, I also think it's probably kind of buggy in the jungle.  And I hate bug bites.  And I'd especially hate bug bites on my private bare skin.  Which is exactly why if I were in the jungles of Uganda, I'd definitely be wearing a bra, and also a long sleeved shirt. 


ANYway, isn't it funny how sometimes at the end of a long day, you go to take your bra off and get all comfy and pj'd up, and all of a sudden a few errant crumbs tumble out?


The question is, do you eat the bra crumbs?  No judgement here if you do.  OK, maybe a little judgement you gross thing, you.


I do not eat bra crumbs.  In case you were wondering.  


Unless it's a really big crumb cake crumb, then there's no telling what I could do.  I guess it would depend on how hungry I was at the moment of the discovery.  Either way, it would be a crime to waste a good crumb cake crumb.  Don't you think?


Such a dilemma.

An executive decision

So I made the executive decision to change my new favorite word from "snarky" to "Hobo."  Snarky isn't quite cutting it for me.  I really thought I might be able to use it frequently, but it's just not happening.  Maybe it's more of a European word.  I don't really think it will catch on here in the states.

I would like to thank my niece Abby for overusing the word Hobo, and making me really like it.  It's like the best word ever.  It just feels really funny when you say it.  It is kind of derogatory though.  Oh well.


It's a word that comes in handy, like a lot. 


Like in a situation where your sister comes over for a cup of coffee in her nighties and slippers, you can say, "You are such a hobo Ali."


Or you can say to your kids, "You hobos better get your behinds in the car!"


You can even use it on your mother.  Like when Mom was carrying a bunch of bags and presents up to her room at the resort a few weeks ago, I said "Ma, you really look like a hobo!"  And then I helped her carry a bag.  Because I am all kind like that.


So anyway -- HOBO is the word of the day.  Learn it, love it, live it.  And definitely use it as often as possible.

my new favorite word is incidentally

My old favorite word was "however," but I have since started overusing the word incidentally.


In my defense, it is very fitting in a lot of sentences.

I can find my new favorite word in several recent posts.

Here is one example.

Here is another.

And here is one more, for good measure.

Incidentally, I just discovered I used incidentally in yesterday's post too.

Do you ever find yourself doing that?  I mean, overusing a particular word?  It's like all of a sudden you discovered it so you inadvertently find a way to inject it into as many conversations as you can?

Just so you know, I brought it to my own attention.  I'm going to try to quit saying it.  But if I do, I am going to have to find a replacement word that I like just as much. 

Like... um... oh I am having a moment of utter blankness in my mind.  What other words do I like as much as however and incidentally and y'all??

How about snarky?  (incidentally, spell check tried to change the word snarky to snaky.  Like, there's a snaky in my boot?  WTF?  Who says that?)  My son said snarky the other day and it made me laugh.  It kind of rolls off the tongue funny.  Snarky. SNARKY.  OK, OK.  I'll give it the old college try and let you know how it goes.  Because I know you are all super interested.  Unless someone can come up with a better suggestion for a good word for me to overuse.  Larry?