Tag Archives: Rants

pumpkin, chickadee, and chubbs

Well it’s been a while. I’ve been livin’ la vida loca Ricky Martin style and haven’t had a chance to post.  However, there are more important things to discuss.

Exhibit 1:

Honey Boo Boo has her own show, and like a car wreck I can’t turn away. I’ve watched three episodes and so far Honey Boo Boo has gotten a pet pig named Glitzy, received an ultra sound of her belly, made a redneck water slide with a tarp, and participated in a mud pit belly flop contest.

It’s pure genius.

June, her mother, also itches her fleas at one point. You can’t make this shit up. It reminds me of the first season of Jersey Shore. That season was so amazing because they were so ridiculous and they were oblivious that people were laughing at them, not with them. I likened it to a show about gay men in the middle of San Francisco. But, I’ll settle for a show about rednecks in the south.

Exhibit 2:

All I’m going to say is ‘am I the only person who thinks perhaps this woman wasn’t the best spokesperson?’ I have a co-worker who believes one eye is larger than the other, whereas I just believe she talks funny.

Call me critical, and let’s just leave it at that.

Fleas and Pleas,

Swan

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what happens in vegas stays in vegas

….unless you write it down and post it to the internet.

 

Las Vegas is a glorious place to go if you are attempting to completely transform into a total jackass.

Is that statement a little bold? Let me explain.

 

While on “the strip” I concluded that I was in a land of broken dreams and irresponsible life choices.

Life choice #1 – Baking in the sun while lounging next to some overpriced hotel.

Who doesn’t want to get skin cancer and spend $16 on a drink while listening to the Real Housewives of Las Vegas yell at their husbands in the shallow end of a pool that I’m sure every 7-year old peed in?

Life choice #2 – Drinking too much, too often.

Who doesn’t want a liver transplant and a series of blackout moments followed by day of hangover symptoms? Which then can only be cured by having another drink…or so I’m told.

Life choice #3 – Wearing heels and clothes that are too small.

Back problems and body suffocation are direct results of the above actions. Sure these items are a good idea in theory, but I have yet to find a woman who would rather wear this than some sneakers and a sweatshirt. I believe this is self inflicted pain as well because I’m certain no one cares how defined our calves are.

Life choice #4 – Spending too much money on things you don’t need.

Gambling has a support group for a reason. However, buying a water bottle for $5 could also send someone into a downward spiral, along with $18 tacos, and $40 pictures taken with the men from Thunder from Down Under.

Life choice #5 – Not getting enough sleep

Sleep is the only thing that makes people function normally, take it away and your likelihood of doing any of the other poor life choices listed above is exponentially increased.

 

Which brings me to the hard evidence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Real Me: Enjoys lathering up with SPF 50 while sitting in the sun for approximately 2 hours

Vegas Me: Soaked up an overcast sky for 6 hours with a meager singular application of SPF 30

 

Real Me: Hits the hay at 9pm

Vegas Me: 2 to 4am was my bitch

 

Real Me: Two alcoholic beverages and I am Done-zel Washington

Vegas Me: I’d be willing to bet a half bottle of Vodka was consumed….within an hour

 

Real Me: Buys a comfy pillow-top for my mattress and meticulously washes my sheets

Vegas Me: Throws up all over mattresses that then need to be replaced by hotel maid staff

 

Real Me: Despises roast beef

Vegas Me: Ordered the Beef and Cheddar sandwich, swallowed it whole, and then wondered when my taste buds had changed so drastically

 

Real Me: Wears Old Navy flip flops…. how can you beat a shoe that cost less than some packets of gum

Vegas Me: Wore  heels on the regular while dancing to hip hop I’d never heard

 

Real Me: Goes to bars occasionally

Vegas Me: Got kicked out of Tao for trying to sleep in a stairwell

 

Real Me: Consumes soda from a McDonald’s straw

Vegas Me: Consumes vodka from a phallic straw

 

Real Me: Watches shows on Fox Family (omg can you believe we still don’t know who A is on PLL!)

Vegas Me: Watches Thunder from Down Under while critiquing the aussies dance moves….*ahem* not other things.

 

 

No I didn’t lose a tooth, steal a tiger, or marry a stripper. However, Vegas and I shall be parting from our partying ways.

I’ll only return to soberly see Celine perform My Heart Will Go On at Caesar’s Palace while wearing jeans.

 

 

Bottle Service and Maid Service,

Swan

 

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how do you solve a problem like….Maria?

Ok, I’ve got something to say.

Roofing sucks.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know it may seem like I dropped off the face of this earth. You wouldn’t be wrong. But believe me I wasn’t having a grand ole time. I wasn’t on vacation, and I wasn’t caught up in an 80’s movie marathon. I was doing the following:

1) Cleaning up an entire roof that my husband removed and shoved to the ground. Because of this the following also happened:

a) I needed to pull rusty nails from my flip flops. Yep, flip flops. Judge me.

b) My body was coated in what I like to call “an exfoliating granual.” This coating literally needed to be scrubbed off on a nightly basis, especially when SPF 50 acted as an unintended adhesive.

c) Nights passed with no dinner. This never happens to me. I’m always the person who wonders how people can forget to eat. Apparently I’m a hypocrite.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Onto another topic…

2) It was discovered that our roof base was inadequate and required a lot of reinforcement in order to actually hold people. Meaning these reinforcements needed to be completed before any roofing could actually commence. Twiddle thumbs now.

3) The paint man at Home Depot sold me indoor paint when I specifically said I needed outdoor paint….twice. Then we proceeded to paint all facial boards with indoor paint before we noticed. I blame Eleanor. She must have distracted him with her cuteness.

4) We had to rent nail guns because we nail things here, we don’t staple them. For the duration of time we had them we could have bought them. Good times.

5) My sweet angel dog (not the pug) bite my uncle three times.

6) During all of this I also worked a summer camp….for small ungrateful children. The following can be assumed based on this camp experience:

a) Risk is a horribly inappropriate game and no one should play it.

b) Sponge Bob Square Pants is kind of like Jesus. Everyone shuts up and listens to him.

c) Kids lose things….constantly….and then blame it on everyone around them.

d) Cake and Cocoa Puffs are not a suitable dinner.

e) Younger children hate to walk in the sun. Nay, younger children hate to walk.

 

7) I haven’t had a day off since June 3rd. My next day off will be June 23rd.

8) I had to change my e-mail password because somehow it got hacked….and I was too busy to notice. I had to be informed by my wedding photographer on Facebook.

 
someecards.com - I'm glad we're back in touch ever since I was spammed by your hacked email account.

Ok, enough. The point has been made.

Here are some positives from the past few weeks:

1) No one fell off the roof.

2) Children didn’t Vanish at summer camp like on Beth Holloway’s show.

3) I didn’t get sunburn (the same can’t be said for others).

 

I’m ready for some relaxation time. Soon we’ll be off to Vegas where I plan to drink lots of Sonic, eat lots of Jason’s Deli, and generally sweat my worries away.

Roofs and Risk,

Swan

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i’d rather poke out my eye than diy

Has anyone ever referred to you as the HGTV Hilter?

No?

I wish I could say the same.

 

Let’s take a trip back into time….way back…back to the end of escrow. It was a glorious Spring day, filled with chirping birds, blossoming flowers, and electric saws.

When buying a home I felt it important to keep an open mind, look past any flaws, and be willing to DIY the shit out of things. While this is good in theory, it’s a miracle my husband and I survived it because, you guessed it, I was referred to as the HGTV Hitler.

Barking demands left and right…at least this is what I’m told. It’s all honestly a blur. I blacked out like a trauma victim.

Within a few weeks of entering the house my husband and I, with a little more emphasis on the husband, tackled the following:

Repainting the kitchen cabinets
Removing the popcorn ceiling
Re-texturizing the ceiling
Removing all doors and closet doors, painting them, putting them back up
Ripping up the carpet
Installing (most of) the new flooring
Removing and replacing all window blinds
Fixing the hot water heater
Installing all new kitchen and laundry appliances

I think this is all of it…

This list is crazy and I’m the first one to admit it.

So, with all of that being said we’ve taken a little break (eh, a year and a half or so) from the house for a lot of reasons. However the main one being we were exhausted and didn’t have Jeff Lewis to help us…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

…or David Bromstad.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Considering the people I would have wanted to be our helpers, I suppose our big problem was that neither of us are gay males. This seems like a huge oversight on my part)

Things were good and lazy…until this past weekend.

We did the following:

Cleaned and organized the garage, Pulled weeds, Made 5 trips to the dump, Cleaned up probably a years worth of dog shit in the yard (I wish this could be an exaggeration or that I could be embarassed about it), Shopped for and put together a new bed frame and hall bathroom

 

After all of this we celebrated with copious amounts of beer, food, and laughter. Man we felt accomplished. You’d think we’d just freed slaves, or discovered fire.

I wish I could say this was the end of this long, drawn out tale. But alas, we are about to embark on a whole new level of home improvement.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh Johnathan Taylor Thomas, moare affectionately known as JTT, what ever happened to your acting career? I thought you surely were a shoe in at the Oscars after your stellar performance in Man of the House. Your emotion during the rain dance scene made me cry.

 

So anyway, we will be tackling the roof.

Yes, the part of our house that protects us from the elements.

Yesterday they delivered a dumpster to my front yard, ya know, for ‘roof garbage’ or whatever. I was having renovation PTSD. Hopefully I don’t go all Leutenant Dan on people and start shouting war commands like “Hand me the hammer!” or “Yeah, you heard me right, we’re painting everything…even the ceiling and I’m aware that’s inconvenient.”

Wish us luck. We will need it. We cuss a lot.

Nails and Epic Fails,

Swan

And as a side note: Dear HGTV, you are deceptive. It’s not easy or fun to be a ‘Weekend Warrior’. Home improvements suck. Home improvements are no walk in the park. Your shows are just as bad as the Pantene Pro-V commercials I would watch as a child. My hair never looked that smooth or satiny. You made me believe my house would look professionally put together on a paupers budget. Blasphemy. My house may never have baseboards or working electrical sockets. I’ve come to terms.

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david bowie designed the met

Hooray, I’ve finally graduated!

someecards.com - Allow me to take some pressure off your job search by informing you that no one's hiring

However, I’m channeling a snail with my vacation posts, so I’m a little behind.

Today I’d like to discuss the awesomeness that is Central Park. Not only does this park make me think of Kevin McCallister running away from burglars and befriending a bird lady, it also reminds me that crazy New Yorkers dig nature too.

Yes, it is beautiful.

Yes, it is a fun place to frolic.

Yes, it has a castle in it.

We spent our time gawking at the turtles in Turtle Pond (how did they ever come up with that name?), touring the magnificent castle where I pretended to be a Disney princess, and getting lost on our way to the Metropolitan Museum of Art a.k.a. hell on earth.

Why would I say such a horrible thing about this world-renowned museum? I’ll tell you why:

1) As I mentioned in a previous post, I wore cowboy boots this day so my feet were wondering when I was going to succumb to the pain and just rip them off.
2) I propose a re-name of The Met to The Labyrinth. Every time we’d walk into a different section we wondered if we were actually going the right way. Somehow we’d keep going right, logic would say this results in a circle, however, we never ended up in the same room we started. We missed entire sections of the museum due to its shotty layout. I also propose implementing arrows on the ground like Ikea does or perhaps a yellow brick road.
3) There needs to be more food and drink! I seriously felt like I was back at Warped Tour 2003, in the blazing heat with no water and scrounging for dolla dolla bills on the ground in order to hydrate. Except in the Met there is only one area that I found where people could up their blood sugar. I felt like Jesus in the desert…Lent style.
4) If you advertise Degas there better be some fucking ballerinas.

This is how I felt when I realized we were only half way through the first floor of this ginormous museum.

Here are some of the exhibits we actually saw luckily going right got us somewhere, sometimes…


and the obligatory cupcake…

a girl needs sugar after being deprived of all sustenance

Sugar and Statues,
Swan

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littlefoot just wants to reach the great valley where there are plenty of tree stars

Do you enjoy looking at fake animals and prehistoric dinosaur bones?

Good. You will enjoy the wonderful pictures I took at the Museum of Natural History.

Prior to that, I’d like to share 9 things I learned while on vacation that in hindsight I would have enjoyed knowing before getting on a jet plane.

1) Oddly enough the east coast seems to think toilet seat covers aren’t a necessity. Perhaps I have a new butt fungus, perhaps I don’t, things are still fermenting.

2) Cowboy boots are not a fashioneable or practical piece of footwear while in New York and walking 60 blocks.

3) Staking claim on the armrest on a plane is not rude, it’s survival. If you don’t do it the other guy will, and then you’ll be elbowed in the hip during your 4 hour flight.

4) The subway is not scary when you take it during the day and you’re not panicking about switching lines.

5) People in New York do not like to wait for anything. Why they have crosswalks I’m not sure.

6) Security lines for monuments are no joke. Perhaps wearing silver chains and sweatshirts with a thousand zippers isn’t wise because then they’ll make you take off your shoes and treat you like a terrorist.

7) When someone tells you, “These sandwichs are so New York” that’s code for “These sandwiches contain an entire pig, 10 slices of bread, and require reinforcement underneath them to prevent the thick paper bag and butcher paper from ripping.”

8) Eating prior to entering the Met is a necessity, because walking that museum is like running a marathon, and their cafe is simply not sufficient enough to satiate all of it’s eager dwellers.

9) Get used to telling people no. Most corners have someone trying to sell you something. This ranges from horse and carriage rides to fake Louis Vuittons beautifully displayed on dirty sheets.

On to the museum of Natural History extravaganza…

Petrie and Spike,
Swan

P.S. I am currently dancing around my house to Carly Rae Jepsen. If that’s wrong I don’t wanna be right.

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the world could use a few more pony parades

Flashback Friday

This is completely unacceptable.

Is it just me or do these creatures look demonic?

The blue one actually looks upset. How can you be upset with rainbow hair? The orange one might have pink eye, and the yellow one appears to have just heard the saddest news imaginable.

This is how My Little Ponies are supposed to look…

I truly wish my mother would have saved my pony herd. Allegedly, I had so many I’d create pony parades.

A pony parade: is a straight line of ponies, that move forward simply by grabbing the caboose pony and moving them all the way up to the front of the line. My mother claims these parades would stretch from room to room.

Clearly I was a genius, and so incredibly self-sufficient.

Similarly, I vividly remember fighting over a pink sparkly pony in Kindergarten. I also remember having a pony with flapping wings, one with a spinning tail, and one that changed colors in the water. Legit.

None of these creepy eyed, alien ponies trying to be sold to the youth of America. I refuse to buy them you know whenever I have a child or it’s a Friday night and I’m feeling nostalgic while watching Rescue From Midnight Castle.

 Moondancer and North Star,

Swan

Side Note: If this does not make sense I am sorry. You clearly have gone throughout life without knowing joy.

Moondancer is a Unicorn Pony who debuted in 1983 as part of the Second wave of the Generation 1 Toyline. Moondancer then made her brief appearance in the first My Little Pony Special Rescue From Midnight Castle. Moondancer is one of the four kidnapped ponies in Dream Valley during Scorpan’s raid. Out of the four, she is the only Unicorn Pony that was corrupted by Tirek’s Rainbow of Darkness in order to pull his chariot. She was reverted back to normal after Tirek was destroyed. She has a daughter named Baby Moondancer, who is very shy. She got kidnapped by Catrina along with the Rainbow of Light to be used as a ransom to force the Bushwoolies to go back to her.

North Star is an explorer Pegasus Pony with a strong British accent. She has a good sense of direction, though she can be easily frazzled. She has a daughter named Baby North Star, who is one of the first tooth ponies, in charge of taking care of the twins Baby Snookums and Sniffles and Baby Milkweed and Tumbleweed. Like the other baby ponies, she has one tooth and was involved in a feud against Fudgey McSwain and Rocky Ripple.

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mo’ money, mo’ problems…unless you’re a garbage man

Red Roses are the poster child of Valentine’s Day.

Just accept the obligatory pic of Eleanor.

Since I work in an office environment, and Valentine’s Day fell on a weekday, I was subjected to the parading of bouquets.

Yes, I realize it is now April. No, I do not care that this post is two months past due.

To get back on track, this year the unthinkable happened.

One of my co-workers received a bouquet with just enough far too many carnations and too many not enough roses. Naturally her husband felt slighted by the florist.

someecards.com - It's not what you do for me on Valentine's Day that matters but the amount of jealousy it provokes in others

This my friends was the birth place of the all-encompassing term: Carnation Catastrophes.

A Carnation Catastrophe is something people deem as a significant inconvenience, when in reality no one gives a shit. Let’s be real, some people are swatting flies off their ration of bread. So the fact that my IPhone is slower than a stay at home mom allowing her child to order at Starbuck’s, doesn’t really reach to the higher levels of significance. Side note: Mark my words, I will not allow my children to make decisions that most adults find difficult, especially during the morning rush with a line out the door.

So what are some examples of a carnation catastrophe? Well I’m glad you asked.

  • My Mercedes is in the shop, so I can’t drive to Whole Foods everyday to purchase my special bread. Beetle, are suffering from PTSD? P.S. I want my bread sliced, and where are your free samples, and why can’t I just buy half a loaf, and I understand it’s Sperlonga Saturday, but can’t we pretend it’s Cranberry Walnut Wednesday! 
  • My house is too warm from the heater at night so I have to sleep with the fan on and it keeps me awake. Yes I know. I should have just turned down the heater, but we had company, and frankly I’d sleep on an ice cap if you let me because I enjoy being cold at night. Bring on the earplugs.

You get the idea.

So what are some examples of real catastrophes?

  • Human remains found on a waste management conveyor belt at the recycling center. Just when you think the world couldn’t get weirder, it surprises you with this Monday morning headline as you drink your Grande coffee….after you waited in line because of the indecisive 7-year old.
  • Charles Manson coming up on his parole. I have no words. I literally had nightmares for weeks based on a documentary I saw about Manson’s escapades. Yes you are correct, that is a euphemism. 

So spread the filler flower love.

I like to think of it as a reminder that I really have no reason to complain. My husband is notorious for telling me “Life’s good!” during my self imposed stressful situations. While it drives me insane, I appreciate his approach.

So taking a page from the “Manual on How to Live Life Like a Care-Free Man” I’ll do my honest best to keep from cursing the world for the next 36 days until I obtain my Masters. Cry me a river, right?  Carnation catastrophe at it’s finest.

Oh, and someone buy the garbage man who found a body while sifting through recycled cans a Mercedes. He deserves it more than the bitch who’s schizophrenic about bread.

Ok, I swear I’m done complaining now.

Foliage and Garbage,

Swan

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is the tassle worth the hassle

Last night I sat on the couch and knitted. Intensely.

A month ago I proclaimed that I wished I was homeless because school was stressing me out. To which my friend wisely said, “I’m worried about you!”

When watching Jackass re-runs I can’t help but think they are being incredibly irresponsible and destructive for no reason.

For the past three weeks in a row, The Voice has made me cry. Especially the sandwich guy and his complete and utter happiness for his opponent’s win during the battle round.

Just this week, Eleanor (the pug), has started growling and barking at a corner in my room. I instatneously jump to the conclusion that my room is haunted by a ghost puppy.

Last night I listened to an entire Justin Bieber song, and then proclaimed, “It’s not that bad.”

What does this all mean?

Perhaps I’m slowly losing my marbles….like this guy.

However, in his defense, I am utterly impressed and entertained by this YouTube Video which I think suggests something about my sanity right now.

Yesterday I bought my cap and gown for graduation. The gentleman who sold me my overpriced apparel was so chipper. He proclaimed he planned to attend graduate school in the coming years. My head said, “Only do that if you want to have no life, be exhausted all the time, and pay money to work for free!” But my heart said, “Oh that’s great, good luck!” Who am I to crush the dreams of others. May 18th cannot come soon enough. 50 Days…not that I’m counting.

Degrees and Fees,

Swan

 

 

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bows and arrows don’t kill people, people kill people

It’s been a while, I know. Master’s degrees are no joke, they take up way too much time.

On to important news:

I think my list of things that make me fear for society needs to be extended. So sit back, relax, and soak up the reality of 2012.

1) Remember when books were about web’s made by Charlotte, or where the wild things are? Not anymore. Now books are about 12-18 year-olds figuring out how to kill each other.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m on the bandwagon. I’m drinking the Katniss Everdeen Kool-Aid and am now enlightened into understanding my complete and utter inability to survive in a society where the object is killing off your children for sport. Saturday night 7:10, Century Theaters, front row.

someecards.com - Let's kick off spring by sitting in a dark theater watching teenagers murder each other

2) Why is there the ability to buy two plane tickets for one person. That. Should. Never. Happen.

3) When a perfectly respectable donut shop also decides to sell Pho soup for lunch. This odd pairing is too much for me. I could never ever get past the pungent sugar smell mixed with sodium infused broth. I fear this odd combination may only be the beginning. Businesses are finding some interesting ways to stay afloat. I however, will not be able to support this endeavor. Unless it’s a scone shop that also sells pizza. Note to self: Write down this amazing business idea.

4) Since when did 20 year olds begin dominating the banking business. They can barely tie their shoes, let alone advise me on whether or not I need a money order or a certified check. Go back to Starbuck’s where you belong! I enjoy your witty banter when I’m purchasing my over priced, burnt espresso latte, but I’d rather not have my checking account open while you talk about funny YouTube videos about girls who can’t do math.

5) Shopping used to be fun. Now it sucks. If I have to hear, “No I’m sorry we don’t have that, but you should check online” one more time. I might just have a meltdown and scream in the store. Why do you have a store if you aren’t going to carry the product? The world is minimizing the need for retail workers by always having 30 pairs of size 2 jeans and nothing else. Size 2 is for anorexics or pre-teens…give me a meat and potatoes size. I’ll buy it I swear.

6) And last on my rant list today….articles titled Why You Should Never Retire.

 
Side note: Dear Peyton Manning~ How am I to enjoy your new team and all that it represents? When just last week they were praying with Tim Tebow and washing their uniforms with Tide Extra (ya know…to get out the grass stains from kneeling so much). Regardless, I have some serious soul searching to do before next Fall. I suppose you could win me over, somehow, but it will be difficult. I’ll keep you posted.

Scones and Pizza,

Swan

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