Pity party, table for one please

Alright boys, go ahead and back away from this post. She's talking about her uterus again.

Since today has been a bit of a drag, I've compiled a list for your reading enjoyment. I present to you, my lovely readers,

Ashley. Unscripted...'s Things That Suck Less Than Infertility

Yeah, I went there.






And by the way, Uterus? It's time to stop being so damn selfish. It's "uter-US" not "uter-YOU."

Thank you for allowing me this moment of complete gratuitousness. (Judging from my spell check? That is a word.)

People/Things that are annoying me, February edition

I guess I'm easily annoyed. I prefer to call myself "overly sensitive." I also have a problem not expressing opinions when they pop in my head. (The first time I typed "pop" I added an 'o' and it said "poop." And I gigglesnorted. I cannot lie.)

I'm thinking of making this a monthly feature.

1. Taylor Swift
I don't get the hype. Really. I'm sure I'm about to piss some people off right now, but seriously. I think her music is crapola. How much high school angst is there to sing about? Really. And the whole, "golly gee willikers guys! I'm so surprised I just won my eleventy billionth award! Back when I was in grade school back on the farm we used to dream and wish about being up on a big stage!" Yeah, she's just a kid, but give me a break already. Stop with the shocked and awed routine. I don't buy it anymore. And I'm sure she's a great role model and all that jazz, but I'm just waiting on a sex tape or something to come out to show that she's actually human. Until then, she annoys the piss out of me.

2. Stupid Facebook copy & paste status updates
I don't care which scandalous sounding place you keep your purse at night, I don't care what your "fine" is, and I am not keeping any of it a secret from the guys. And yeah, I'm all for cancer research, I support my troops, and I am against secret dragon attacks (that one actually cracked me up). But really. It's the equivalent of the old fashioned chain letter, which is about as much fun as leprosy. (And about as contagious.)


3. HGTV and any other home renovation/do it yourself television programming
These shows on their own probably aren't very annoying. But when you throw in a husband that is addicted to them? I want to stab something in my eyeball, or ears. Or both. The people on these shows crack me up. They are so obviously reading their "lines."
spoken in a monotone, "Wow. This kitchen is great." fake smile
Really now? Can't you at least fake interest in the property?
The WORST one however, is called Holmes on Homes. Great premise, this guy goes around fixing things that other contractors have effed up. But I swear, he is the most boring man I have ever seen on tv. I swear, he spent a whole hour talking about holes. HOLES. Snooze. Fest.

4. Weathermen
You promised me snow this weekend assholes. This is not the first time you've failed to deliver on your empty promises. Try explaining to a three year old why he can't build a snowman. Then try explaining at least 18 more times, because you and I know he's not going to accept your first seventeen explanations. If I was wrong at my job the number of times that you guys are? Yeah, I wouldn't have a job anymore. What gives? I think you should only be able to say the "S" word if you KNOW that it's going to happen. I'm talking 100% chance. And if it doesn't happen? Then maybe they should do a televised flogging of the guilty weatherman on tv. And let three year olds and their parents do it.

K.I.T. and R.H.A.S.

It's a Saturday morning. The Child and I have been playing hide and seek for what feels like an eternity. In reality, I think it's only been ten minutes, but let's be honest. My kid sucks at hide & seek. Yes, that sounds harsh, he's only three. But really. He's bad at it. While I'm "hiding" I stumble across a few of my high school yearbooks. Oh yeah, here's a new way to entertain The Child. Let's play Find Mommeh's Bad Hair and Even Worse Outfit In a Sea of Horrible Hair and Clothes. He's game. And he finds me right away in my freshman yearbook.

"Mommeh, you wook boooteeeful!" Oh how sweet, he already knows how to lie to me, because boooteeeful that picture of me is not.

I flip through some more pages and have to admit, a lot of you people are friends with me now on Facebook. Let's just say that time has been kind to us. The 90's? Were most definitely not.

But it wasn't the pictures that gave me the biggest chuckle. It was the autographs. Surely when I was 14 or so, I couldn't imagine almost 32 year old me looking back and reading all this. And of course, it was like I was right there, eating lunch in our gym lobby. (Lunch of course consisted of a bag of Bugles and a Dr. Pepper.) I can still smell it.

Let's analyze some of these autographs, shall we?

"I've had fun having class with you!!!" Translation? I have no idea what to write in your yearbook. I prefer the, "I enjoy being in class with you. You always seem to liven it up." Me? No way. Hee hee. See, at least this person put some thought into it.

"You're such a sweet/pretty/fun/insert generic compliment here person!!" Again, no idea what to write, this just makes us both feel better, at least until we're 32 and we see how hollow this statement really is.

"K.I.T! 123-4567!" Translation: please don't call me. Please.

"It's been a great year!" This would be the sister statement to the had fun in class one. At this point you realize the person signing your yearbook has already signed 50 others and just isn't even trying anymore. (I'm pretty sure I wrote my fair share of this one.)

And of course, the ubiquitous RHAS! or PAS! Translated, "raise hell all summer" or "party all summer" because you know the person writing that in your yearbook was the ultimate high school bad ass.

In all seriousness though, most of my friends were pretty creative. There are several signatures that transcend the last 15 years or so and make me smile. The most poignant however would have to be the statement, "I love life" from a friend who passed away shortly after our freshman year of college. A beautiful attitude from a beautiful person.

Go dig up your yearbooks, enjoy a laugh at the expense of your own bad hair. (Shocking confession, I found a couple of pictures of myself in jorts.)

And of course, LYLAS!!

Heartbreak.

I'm writing this from the warm comfort of my home. That home is standing in my comfortable town, where the infrastructure is completely intact. My streets are clean, we have clean running water, we have safe, reliable sources of food. However challenged our system is, we have health care readily available. For my fellow man in Haiti? They do not have these. They didn't have these options the day before yesterday, but at least at that point things had room to improve. Today? Not so much.

My heart is broken for these people, for this country. These people went from having nothing, to having less than that. Now they are broken, shattered. Their country lies in ruins at their feet. Their countrymen lie dead in the street. There is no hospital for them to go to. The aid that is on the way to them will have to fight a battle to get through the ravaged landscape to get to them.

I see the faces of these beautiful children, of these parents, of these sisters, brothers, friends, and I cry. I weep for what lies ahead for them. Their pain is palpable. It emanates from their eyes in the pictures.

I want to do something. If I was without familial responsibilities, I would be down there as fast as I could to help. This devastation will be felt for years to come. If you are able, do something. Help this nation. Help these people. If nothing else, say a prayer. Say two. Spare a moment of silence to think of them.

Semantics?

I'm getting ready for work this morning, the Today show is on, nothing unusual. I'm half listening, half checking my facebook, half drying my hair and putting on makeup. Wait, that's too many halves. Maybe that's why my hair didn't look quite right today, but I digress.

As I'm multi-tasking, Matt Lauer says something that makes my ears perk up. Something about a young boy surviving a cougar attack. Five years ago? I would have thought, oh my God! How awful! Some big jungle cat attacked this little boy!

This morning? I think, oh my God! How awful! An older woman in skin-tight leopard print spandex attacked this little boy. Then I giggled.

As it turns out, it was the jungle cat variety, but sadly, that's not what I thought to begin with. Every year new words are added to the dictionary, and old words get new meanings, hence the mental image conjured with the word "Cougar."

Some recent examples?
Staycation I hate this word. Like really hate it. It wreaks of lameness. Just say you're not going anywhere, or you're staying in. Why the need for the new word?

Carbon footprint Again, not a fan of this one either. Much like the word cougar conjures an inappropriate image, this one does for me as well. I picture a big ass Big Foot walking all over the place leaving muddy, black carbon-ey footprints everywhere. (I told you there was a lot of crazy in my head.)

Waterboarding Now this one I like. I first think of the ocean, and sand, and by association fruity drinks and personal bartenders. Then of course, I realize they mean torture, but what a pleasant term for it. I can get on board with that one.

Unfriend I love this one. For those people that dare to annoy the piss out of you with their obnoxious facebook status updates (I think I did a post about these people.), there's always the option of unfriending. I am guilty of the unfriend. I have also been unfriended. Of course, being unfriended usually drives me batshit crazy as I try to figure out who in the hell would dare to cut me out of their facebook life.

Sock Puppet Seriously? For reals?

And from the 2008 edition, webinar (lame, just the word makes me yawn), fanboy (love), and my personal favorite word of all time, w00t.

Now, go use one of these words in a sentence. You can't say I never taught you anything.

Resolutions, Schmesolutions

It's that time of the year again, the time when people everywhere make a list of things that they plan on doing to better themselves for the next year. By January 15, most have broken the majority of them. What's the point? It's as if you're setting yourself up for failure. But, you know me. I'm not one to be left out. I've decided to make some resolutions of my own.

***drumroll please***

1. I resolve to be a more patient and attentive mother. Yes, my child drives me batshit crazy at least once daily, but I will try to deal with it in a better way than wanting to either a.)bang my head repeatedly on a wall, b.)stab myself in the ear with a blunt object repeatedly, c.)legally change my name from "mommeh" to something unpronounceable to three year olds, or d.) drown my sorrows in a bottle of vintage cab sauv. (Or e.) all of the above)

2. I resolve to get pregnant. Enough already with the infertile crap. I'm over it. My kid needs a sibling.

3. I resolve to learn how to use my new sewing machine, and use it well. I have big plans to take over the fashion world, but first I have to learn how to sew in a straight line without the thread getting all dark and twisty and making me want to run through the list of options mentioned in resolution 1. I eventually want to start an Etsy shop, but I've got a long way to go before getting there.

4. (This one is for The Husband.) I resolve to be better about spending money. We can let him think that by "better" I mean "less." It will be our little secret that "better" actually means "buy better stuff." Shhhhhh. Don't tell him.

5. I resolve to be a better blogger. I've kind of sucked this year on that front. There's too much material floating around in my head. I need an outlet of some sort. All this crazy has to go somewhere.

I could resolve to eat better or exercise more, but that's not the stuff of resolutions. That's stuff I should be doing on a regular basis.

Crappers, kid just kicked my computer. There goes resolution 1 already.

Tiger, Tiger, Tiger...(With my sincerest apologies to William Blake)

Tiger, Tiger, in the car
She's got clubs, you won't get far.
What on earth posseses you
To do the things you're going to do?

With what crack pipe did you smoke?
Didn't think you were that type of bloke.
Dude, your wife is really hot.
This other chick? I'm thinking not.

And why send the creechy texts?
They'd make me laugh, not think of sex.
And when your wife was on to you?
That was the best thing you could do?

What the dealio? What the hell?
You really thought this would end well?
Really man? What's in your head?
You're lucky man, you could be dead.

A woman scorned is never fun.
Especially if you try to run.
You're lucky that she isn't me.
The light of day you'd never see.

Tiger, Tiger, if in her shoes,
Some special favors I would use.
All that money that you earn?
Would be half mine with which to burn.

Somewhere the late, great William Blake is rolling over in his grave. Sadly, when this story first broke this poem, well, the original, was the first thing that popped in my head. Yeah, I'm a nerd like that.

And for your literary pleasure, here is the original poem, from which I was inspired,

Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

William Blake, 1757-1827