just another conversation with people in line at Wal-Mart

Went to Wal-Mart last night for some much needed vino, paper towels, laundry detergent, you know, important stuff. Jez and I were in line and this woman walks up behind us, barely noticeable, until I REALLY looked at her and watched out of my peripheral vision, what she was doing. Her items were that of odd; a tub of chewing gum, some plastic hook things and a duster. Perhaps she was going to hang some pictures, with plastic hooks, stuck to the wall by gum. She opened the tub and asked me "can he have one?" Caught off guard, I look, realize she means Jez and I politely say "no, he's too little". 

"Well, he was eye-balling it..."

"yeah, I bet...but no thanks."

"wow, he must look JUST like his daddy because he looks NOTHING like his momma.."

crickets...and some more crickets.

"wow, um don't know what to say to that"...as I really look at her and her pink jeans, black and hot-pink playboy bunny shirt, HUGE coke bottle glasses and really bad haircut. She was pleasant enough, but without a mute button. It was the icing on the cake of my day.

This morning, I dropped Jez off at school and stayed just a TAD too long. All the other kids were sitting at a table with no room so Jez had to start the 2nd table. There is a kid in the class named Jack who I think may be his little buddy. He sat with Jez and ate breakfast. All of a sudden, Jez says "mommy, stay at school" with tears in his eyes. Woops, time to exit stage left. 

First week of school, he's a pro. And he DOES look like his momma, dammit!

why...why...why...

People. Why. Are. They. Such. Asses. 

By "ass", I mean, stupid. I've taken the IQ test, I can glowingly say, I scored a 140. Eh, take that however you want. I can't do math to save my fucking life. Maybe if I could, I'd have a different job and reason for being. 

Instead, I sit here and entertain the dregs of humanity by baby sitting asses who have single-handedly screwed their OWN lives up and feel like others should "have a bleeding heart and help them out"...or the rich bitches who got dinged on DWI's and think they can march into the court and tell the judge a thing or 5 about why they think they "don't NEED an occupational DL"...ummm, ok...so you don't go to jail the next time you're pulled over, BUT, it's TOTALLY  up to you, bitch. Stop asking me "why ...why...why"....JUST BECAUSE. THAT'S WHY.

I've tried to find that meditation spot, the one where you shut it all down and focus on your core, or some shit...and figure out your ying and yang, your 'zen' your 'fung shwaaaaaay' er, something super hippy dippy. I've tried. I can't do it. I feel like I should be doing something other than what I wake up for in the morning...and I want it to consist of really funny people who don't give a shit and share all their salty snacks with you. Who don't expect beyond what you are physically, emotionally and mentally able to give them. Who pay you what you deserve and know they can't live without you and want to keep you happy. 

There are not a lot of people out there who genuinely try and give a shit about their jobs. It just isn't the human way. There are so many whiners and blah-ers and bitchers, and I'm not talking about THIS kind of bitching...I'm talking about the "gimmies" and "I'm owed" and "fuck that, I didn't do anythings" and "I don't want to come to court" assholes that remind me, every waking day of my life, why people annoy the shit out of me.

Stop asking me where the fucking light switch is in the restroom. If you can't find it, you have to pee in the dark. Too damn bad. 

What. The. Hell.

How the fuck do people "forget" to drop their kids off at day care?

Explain this to me, in a way, that I shall understand, and I MAY shut up.

you can't? well fuck off, then. Because holy cow...Jezek Lane would NEVER EVER be left in a damn car because I was so fucking stupid as to not "REALIZE" that I "forgot" to take him somewhere. He is a piece of me. A part of me. I can't not know he is not there. 

Those poor little boys who lost their lives in cars. Holy shit. Tears. 

Ahem.

A clean blog sheet is dangerous, specially after some Pinot Noir. 

I have often thought how awesome it would be to say the things in public that are only said on sitcoms. You know, everyone is standing around, someone does something stupid, and without being judged, someone throws them down in their place and it's wonderful. I know you know what I'm talking about. No fear in commenting on the retarded. Nothing bad will happen or be said about you if you just say what you feel. We don't say what we feel enough. That's where all this PC shit comes into play, too. (stream of consciousness will get away from me soon)...I shouldn't expound on that too much.

It's nice to have the tv off for a night. Nice to hear the clock ticking on the wall. Nice to have a buzz for once, b/c when you drink wine all the time, the buzz gets a little tough to find. I must have a slightly empty stomach. 

I would like to also take my fucking hat off to Christina Applegate who, at 36 years of age, was diagnosed with breast cancer...elected to have a bi-lateral mastectomy (not 1, but 2, folks...) just to fucking make sure that that shit was GONE. Awesomeness to her. I know it's way in my fate to possibly face this someday, much like my mom, and I have to say, I think I would do the same. Why the hell does it matter now, my boobs are smaller than they have EVER been in my life, so what's the difference if they're gone to save my life? We'll see what happens in a few years. Ladies, at 30, get a mammy. I don't care what your Dr. says, get one. Trust me.