Just In Case We Are All Red Dust Tomorrow

In about 45 minutes or three hours from now, according to scientists, the Earth will pass through a dust cloud left behind by a comet for the last couple of centuries. The actual scientific explanation can be found here.

In the 1980s, according to man of the house, there was a very bad movie,made about this very scenario. Turns out that the comet cloud was radioactive or whatever, so all of the people on Earth turned into red dust.

I’m of the mindset that the meteor shower that the scientific community is hoping to experience as we travel through this cloud will probably be a bust, just like the time that NASA tried to bomb the moon a few years ago. However, because I am the type of person who likes to be open to all possibilities, here are a few things that I’d like to go on the record before I am red dust:

1.) I do not want to survive any sort of apocalypse. I have watched enough Walking Dead and other doomsday-type sci-fi to know that if the end is coming, I will be first in line for the zombie bait volunteer squad. Maybe I’m a snob, but I don’t want to struggle in some shit day to day existence, constantly running for my life, if human extinction is the inevitable end. I’m sure there were a few hardcore dinosaurs who were like “this mysterious thing that caused our extinction isn’t gonna get me down, man”. But guess what? Those dinosaurs are extinct now too. Just sayin.

2.) If it is the end, I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. I think I’ve done a decent job of keeping my karma clean. I try to be a good person and treat others with respect. I’ve worked hard to become well-educated and to share knowledge with those around me. I give back to my community when I can. I try to be a bright spot in humanity. Beyond that, the little humans I’ve raised to this point know they are loved, are full of integrity, and are the reason I live to see each new day. I’m hoping that whatever species studies the planet millions of years ago will look at the anthropological evidence I leave behind and be like, “You know what, she had her own way of doing it, but that red dust speck kind of had her shit together.”

3.) If this is not the end, I am ready to keep on keepin on. I would hope that no one reads this post and thinks that I am hoping to become zombie dust. Believe me, I still have a long list of stuff I need to get done over the long weekend and I haven’t cancelled any appointments on account of the world ending. I mean, really, I’ve survived Y2K and 12-12-12. Comet clouds ain’t got nothing on that.

So, thanks to my non-existent attention span, I’ve got about five minutes before I’m headed outside to see what will or will not happen tonight. See you on the other side, bitches!

Update:  If you haven’t heard, we made it through seemingly unscathed. I saw more meteors last night than I’ve ever seen before and they were pretty awesome. I’m glad humanity still exists, but it would have been nice to not have to do so much drywalling today. First world problems, right?


There’s Gonna Be a Weddin!

So, my dad and step-mom have finally picked a date to officially tie the knot and on Labor Day weekend, I will roll my ass out of bed for a sunrise wedding (because they hate me). Their only request: that all guests wear a thrift-store purchased Hawaiian shirt to the ceremony. Also, Stepmom asked if I would pick up some tiki torches and lanterns on a string. Is this another drug induced matrimony, or am I being paranoid?

So… I Might Be a Crack Baby

My parents have been divorced for 80% of my life. Trust me, this is a great thing. I actually spent a couple of years during my late teenage years trying to figure out how those two people could ever think that getting married, much less procreating, was a good idea.

When I approached my mom with the question she said, “Well, it was the late 70s and lots of people were using cocaine. Sometimes cocaine will make you do crazy things.”

I never have asked when that cocaine use stopped. I think I’m afraid to know…

The Kindness of Strangers

Twice in my life I’ve been a single parent. This post from Bob and Emily very accurately relates how people will treat you when they observe that you are on your own. They sniff out my crackhead prostitute self with my ankle-biters from hell faster than they can notice a ring missing from my all-important digit. NOT ONCE has anyone “assumed” that I took my kids and left an abusive marriage for the safety of all of us. But… fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke, right?

Except this one time. There was one moment where someone either didn’t assumed or didn’t care about my lifestyle as a welfare-reaping gutter slut. 

It was one of those days where I had to work later than planned and then had to rush around town with tired, hungry children to get errands done in the evening. Truth be told, I was equally as cranky as they were. So, for simplicity sake, I stopped by a diner near our home. We were able to order food, take three different trips to the bathroom (because they never have to pee at the same time), and get through the meal with more or less success. The only real issue was that The Boy was being super squirrely and climbing around the empty booth behind us and sometimes he was louder than most would consider restaurant-appropriate. I smiled apologetically at the tables even though I didn’t really care that they were annoyed. We have just as much right to be here as anyone else I thought to myself. As I finished that thought, the manager of the restaurant approached our table. Well shit… “Excuse me,” he said. “I’m so sorry, we are all just really tired. We’ll get out of here so we don’t bother people.” I quickly interjected. “Actually, he said, as another customer was leaving, they purchased ice cream sundaes for your family. I just came to ask what kind you guys wanted.”

Because I was over tired, and more because I’m a baby, I cried a bit. The kids FINALLY settled down out of shock and confusion. It was so refreshing that somebody wanted to do something nice for us. As we ate our ice cream, the girls kept asking me why someone would just buy us dessert. I decided to use the opportunity to teach them about “paying it forward.” I told them that I really didn’t know, but that we needed to be on the lookout for people who we might be able to help sometime. We finally decided one day that we would buy breakfast for the car behind us in the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru. 

The moral of this story is this: when you see a mom who is on her last nerve trying to wrangle unruly children, instead of trying to figure out her relationship status or critiquing her parenting skills, smile and be nice. It will make you stand out in her mind as one in a million and can really turn around a crappy day.

When Superwoman Eats a Fistful of Kryptonite

Yes DC fanboys and fangirls, I understand that I am not appropriately referencing Superwoman as she’s been used in any of the 9 billion upheavals since the 1960s, but as you’ll come to find out, my brain hurts, and that’s the best I can do, so bug off…

In my house, I am the Ringmaster. I get everyone where they need to be. Most of the time they’re even dressed and more or less on time when they get there. I do all of the grocery shopping and food preparation and make sure that everyone has at least a chance at proper nutrition. I do the laundry and the cleaning, and throughout the remodel, I’m doing the painting and the decorating. More or less, I kick ass. Furthermore, I kick ass while holding down a 40 hour/week job and winning the family bread. I love every minute of it and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then there’s this whole issue of my brain. The beast inside my head that is supposed to be my greatest ally in all of the singing and dancing that is life, has turned on me. It takes over my motor function and gives me the tremors. It takes the words in my mouth and spews them out as garble. It makes me so dizzy that I get motion sick just from keeping my eyes open. But you know what, not even that can stop me. Through a fine balance of pharmaceuticals and adaptive strategies, I can have my fucked up brain and ringlead too- for about 360 days/year.

This week the bastard got me. It started with a migraine. Not my typical down-a-few-pills-and-it-will-go-away migraine, but the come-and-get-me-I-can’t-drive-home variety. After 14 hours of restless sleep and a steady diet of ibuprofen, electrolytes, and caffeine, I made it to zombiehood and that’s pretty much where I’ve stayed ever since. I’m back to the daily grind, but it’s a very half-assed grind. I feel myself working back up to full speed, but I’m pissed.

I’m pissed that I have to do this, even if it is for one week or so a year. I’m pissed that my kids are old enough to notice and comment on my shutting down. I’m pissed that Man of the House finally witnessed it (although he’s always been warned that it’s a possibility). I’m pissed that when I try to explain to the rest of the world that I don’t feel well, they look at me like I need to buck up.

So, next week, I will be better and back to myself. Next week this will be nothing more than a bad memory. Let’s just hope that it stays away for another year…

Round Up

I’ve been working pretty hard to keep up with the Zero to Hero challenge, but almost fell off the wagon tonight. Maybe it’s because I haven’t been feeling well, but the whole round up idea wasn’t really tickling my pickle so to speak. But then, I went through my reader and started feeling a bit better. I realized that there are a few bloggers out there who I really look forward to hearing from. So, without further ado, here are a few of the blogs I love:

SnarkySnatch NEVER fails to make me laugh. Hard. To the point my nightly bevvie threatens to come out my nose. The point of view reminds me of my own shenanigans before I had children. The brutal honesty, brilliant use of pictures and videos, and hilarious word-smithing get me every time.

SendtheBus is probably one of my favorite parenting blogs. I like the little stories that remind me of my own kids. Plus, it’s reaffirming to know that I’m not the only one who silently asks “what the fuck” while parenting.

Finally, this post by Itscomplicated has moved me more than any piece of writing I’ve read ever. She is the first person who I’ve ever seen adequately describe some of the pain/shame/discomfort/agony that comes with a neurological condition. Finally, I had something that I could share with those closest to me that would help them understand why I had to go sleep for 14 hours.

Of course, I love all of the bloggers that I follow and know that there are several more I haven’t discovered yet. These are the highlights for now. Maybe, just maybe, when I’m a big girl my blog will end up on someone else’s round up too.

Don’t be such a dick, Asshole!

My biggest pet peeve in all the world is mean people. Whether it’s blatant and in your face mean (i.e. Baby Daddy changing meeting times and places intentionally to make me miss another engagement) or the more passive-aggressive type of mean (i.e. Boss Lady sending the following text: “oh, so sorry you’re sick, I will rearrange my whole schedule to cover for you,”) Mean people suck.

But… but… you’re the mean lady who tells people to fuck off at the tip of the hat. Kind of, but it’s usually because those people are being mean. A comment left on a previous post of mine really inspired me tonight. What if we all just told others how we felt about them? So long as we can make a convincing argument as to why their behavior is offensive, perhaps it would do the world some good if we told each other about it.

If that doesn’t work, there’s always Plan B: