Why I Hate Company Picnics...

Every parent does it. You can't help it.

You compare your kid to every other kid whenever in a social setting.

ie: Is my kid keeping up with his/her peer group? She's almost 4, but she's much taller/more coordinated/smarter/kicks more ass than that other kid that's a similar age.

For me, nothing is worse than company picnics/baseball games/family outings. I feel like all my co-workers are staring at Darling. (I do admit she is a rather magnetic personality.)

Not only are they staring...they are judging...with their ThankGodIDon'tHaveKids/ThankGodI'mABetterParentThanThat eyes.

Paranoid and self conscious, aren't I?

YEP. That's the Theme of the Week here at Moxie Central.

Tonight was Company Picnic Night. Darling was the oldest (at 3 years and 50 weeks). All the other kids were in the 2 and under crowd. They all were docile, happy to eat the hot dogs and ice cream and look cute in their minimum mobility.

My kid? The Kid Who Knows She Has An Audience?

She was refusing to eat a banana because it looked funny.

She was the one meowing like a cat and wanting to crawl on her hands and knees when she wasn't wanting to hop over to the barbeque grills like a bunny.

She's the one who wanted to eat ice cream with her fingers.

She's the one who asked my boss what was his name and where did he live?

She's the one who was bossing around the littler kids (DRINK YOUR JUICE!!! DON'T DO THAT!!!) and sat down and threw a tantrum when it was time to leave.

You know, the one who had to be carried to the car screaming that she didn't want to go home as my boss' docile, hardly a peep out of him, 1 yr old son sat staring almost as horrified as his father was.

The kid who's mother felt the judging eyes of co-workers searing into her back as they left.

Let's be honest. We're raising her to be expressive of her feelings (yet trying to harness that into a disciplined channel) She's going through the independence stage. She's learning self-determination and setting new boundaries. WHY DOES SHE HAVE TO TEST THEM IN PUBLIC?!?

The other parents in my work clique haven't got to the charming Turning 4 Tantrum Stage yet. My child is one of the most stubborn people I have ever met in my life. She even gives me a run for my money. Poor Handsome calls our clashes Stubborn Offs. Neither of us will bend or break.

I call it Discipline, she thinks of it as Totalitarianism (if she knew that word).

She has a shirt my MIL gave her that says, "WARNING: Irish Temper and German Stubborness".

And how true it is, Constant Reader, how true it is.

I hope someday my co-workers will understand (be blessed with their own tantruming kids)...

So, A Sumarian walks into a bar...

The world's oldest joke? Aparently it's from 1900 BCE.

Fart jokes. It's always fart jokes.

Here's the official list of the oldest jokes.


Meh. I guess you had to be there.

If you've never checked out Shoebox Blog, well, you should. Mildly entertaining.

Cat Decisions....

Is 4 too young for a cat?

Darling has become cat obsessed. We have one. But Fraidy won't go anywhere near Darling. The cat that would curl itself around my pregnant belly and purr, will now dash and hide whenever Darling, who has never hurt him or even hardly petted him, is in the room.

Darling's aunt has a new kitty. One that Darling is obsessed with. She's very gentle with the cat, and is now big into pretending to be a cat.

I'm worried about Fraidy's mental health. It's been about 2.5 yrs since he's had other cats around him and he just keeps getting more and more reclusive. It's like having a ferral housecat that you only see once in awhile. Maybe a playmate would help.

Plus, Darling is just now getting chores to do every night. Feeding and watering a cat is within her skill set (with parental supervision).

But she'll be just turning 4. We'd let her pick it out (or let the cat pick her out) but what if they don't get along after awhile.

What to do? New cat or no?

(And dogs are not an option. Period. Fraidy would go into cardiac arrest.)

Thoughts? Advice?

Current Irritations

1. Our jackass neighbor that parks his POS car 1 ft from the edge of our driveway facing the wrong way on the street.

2. Crappy Wednesday night tv.

3. 6:45 am Thursday morning meetings.

4. Cat urine.

5. Mud.

6. Books that the author rushes the ending on.

7. Dirty dishes that aren't dancing to the diswasher on their own.

8. Bitchy, petty, shallow girls.

9. Tinkerbell stickers that don't stick to the walls, even though they are wall decorations.

10. Not enough sleep, not enough time and too much work.

Flooding...

Distracted side note: Why is flood pronounced "Flud"? It makes no sense to me. Does that word follow pronunciation rules? I had to spell check that just to make sure it was right.

Anyway, it's flooding in KC today. Sorry, it's probably my fault. Ask and you shall receive and all of that.

We lost power last night. How do I know? Not from the blinking microwave/DVR clocks. Nope. It was Darling waking up SCREAMING like she was being disemboweled at about 3 am this morning. Her CD she listens to wasn't playing and the hall light was off. She freaked.

Aren't you jealous that you didn't get the priveledge of explaining the complexities of electricity to a 3 yr old at 3 am? Some of us are just lucky.

Needless to say, I didn't get back to sleep.

Handsome and I discussed flooding on the way to drop Darling off this morning. My most traumatic flood experience came when I was about Darling's age. I grew up at a suburban lake and was spending the night with my grandparents' (in the house that one day would be where my family lived when the grandparents moved back into town).

One particular night, my Grandma rushes into the second floor sunroom where I was sleeping (probably at 3 am) and picks me up, abruptly waking me up. I start to freak and ask what's wrong.

She tells me to look out the window. The lake has jumped the seawall and is flooding the entire yard. The next door neighbor is swimming (!) through our yard to rescue my grandparents' white German shepard from the backyard kennel and my grandfather is fiddling with the breaker box and cursing in German (He did this when I was around and he wanted to mask his fury, I always thought it was cool to listen to him.)

Anyway, I remember being terrified for my toys that were downstairs. My grandpa had to wade thru knee deep water to rescue a water logged stuffed animal, Monkee. He was a relatively good sport about it.

Needless to say, we survived, but I had a huge fear of the lake for a couple of months afterwards. This happened in about 1980 and it took the homeowner's association another 12 years to put in better floodgates. Just in time for the 1993 floods, which never affected us, but we had some pretty cool, but nowhere near as dramatic flooding in my childhood.

Handsome grew up in middle Missouri near Hermann, MO. Ya know, right in the Missouri River flood plain. One little town, Rhineland, was literally picked up and moved by FEMA onto the bluffs above the flood plain.

Handsome's family has about 80 wooded acres with a "wet weather creek" running through it. Apparently, the night he was born was a particularly stormy night and the creek became a rushing river o' doom. MIL called FIL at work to come take her to the hospital since they lived in the middle of nowhere and she couldn't ask a neighbor to drive her. FIL speeds along their not so gravelly road and realizes he is on one side of the creek and his wife is on the other side. The bridge is completely submerged.

What's FIL do? Swims across the creek (scary) grabs MIL, hops on the tractor and drives on over the bridge. Handsome, their first child is born less than 15 minutes after she arrives at the hospital.

Whew. Death defying, huh?

I'm going to go listen to They Might Be Giants now.

Baby Making Pressure

*If you're a guy or a single person who hates women talking about babies, stop right here. Come back later, I need to parentally vent. I don't want to torture you. Thanks, Moxie*

I understand when it comes from my mother or my husband.

I tolerate it when it comes from my MIL or well-meaning friends.

When it comes from my almost 4 yr old, Darling Daughter, I can't take it.

Scene: Last night at the Moxie Family Compound. Darling is swimming in her big green inflatable pool. She swims up to me, lounging in my post-work-I'm-finally-relaxing splendor and says:

Darling: K is my sister and M is my brother.

Me: No, they are your friends at preschool. I'm sorry but you don't have any brothers or sisters. Not yet. (I hastily add).

Darling: But I want some.

Me: Did Grandma tell you to say that?

Darling: What?

Me: Maybe someday.

Darling: I'll pray to God and the angels for a baby sister.

Me: (freaking!) Ok.

Here's the thing: I want another child. I can't believe Darling is almost 4 yrs old. Another child, if it's going to happen needs to happen soon. Handsome has been very supportive, no pressure. He understands I'm just not sure we're ready, financially or emotionally, for another child.

Darling's potty trained, mostly sleeps through the night. She's semi-self sufficient. I hate the idea of splitting my time as a working mom any more than it already is. I feel like it would be unfair to her (and being a stay at home mom is not an option).

At the same time, I hate the idea that she might grow up as an only child. I loved having 2 brothers and 2 sisters. Handsome is just as close with his 3 brothers and sister. Who's going to be there for her after Handsome and I are gone? There's no bond like a sibling bond. I want to give her that.

Conceiving Darling was a snap. First try and we were pregnant. About 2 years ago we thought we were ready and tried again. After about a year of monthly disappointments and bittersweet news of every woman around me (it seemed) getting pregnant, Handsome (more than me) and I decided to give it a rest for a while.

It was the best thing for my mental health. Nothing hinders either one of us physically from having another child according to the doctors, but I felt like such a failure. It was so easy the first time, we're both the oldest of 5 child families, why shouldn't I be pregnant with the snap of my fingers?

Now, 2 years later almost exactly from when we put the "trying" on hiatus, I'm feeling the pressure big time once again. Everyone around me seems to have big, expectant smiles and to be asking when the next one is coming.

Shut up already. Ok?!

I don't want to deal with it. About 6 months after we quit, our marriage hit a very rough spot and took a nasty skid that looked like we were going to crash into divorce. Things are so much better now, but I'm still really hesitant. Pregnancy, childbirth and infants can strain a marriage that's just now feeling really good again.

Darling's preschool is so expensive, the thought of paying infant care prices makes me cringe. Even when she goes to kindergarten, we'll be paying Catholic school tuition (thanks KCMO School District)(don't tell me to move to the suburbs or JOCO. I don't want to.)

I'm just depressed and upset today. I don't know what to do. I'm scared to set myself up for failure. All the crap like miscarriages and deformities and just every other possibility that didn't bother me when I was pregnant with Darling scares me now.

Sorry I'm so down.

Please help. This is no way to treat a soldier

I just read this article over on KC Blue Blog. If you have any compassion in your heart, please read this and click thru to where you can sign your name to the petition asking for an investigation.

It makes me sick to my stomach that Army could try to cover this up. Rape-Murder is not suicide. From the descriptions given of how she was found, how could you possibly think that her condition was self inflicted?

To cover it up is disrespectful not only to the brave women that serve in the military, Lavena's family and Lavena herself, but to the dignity, integrity and equality of the military itself.

I hope you'll sign the petition. Think if that was your daughter, your sister, your mother...Help the Johnsons and American justice.

The Book I've Been Waiting For

OMG! I'm so getting this book. I read the first couple of pages and I'm not sure if it's a sleepy time fairy tale or a nightmare waiting to happen.

All I know is I'll sleep easier after W. is out of office.

Think this will be on Reading Rainbow?


The old school, "Moon" version was Darling's favorite book for awhile. I'm glad she's moved on after months and months of this book every night to other stories.

It was one of my favorite books as a little girl too and I can't wait to read the parody. There's something very soothing about thinking it's less than 6 months until he's out of office.

Here's a very good review on "Goodnight, Bush"

Really Bad Timing

My MIL and FIL (and Handsome's Grandma and Aunt) came up Thursday night to watch Handsome's latest show. After the performance the lobby was filled with the usual congratulatory and semi-honest hugs and compliments.

In the middle of all this joy and celebration, my MIL announces to her mother, sister and children, "They found a lump in my breast and I went in last week to have it removed. It wasn't cancerous but I didn't want anyone to know until it was over."

Shocked silence.

Handsome's mom, aunt and grandmother just lost a sister/daughter to breast cancer in January.

Needless to say, her announcement was a real killjoy.

Yes, everyone was happy it wasn't cancer, but not so happy she didn't say anything about it until after the fact. They are a very supportive family and I think a little hurt she didn't say anything sooner.

And, she could have picked a better time and place to have announced it.

I was irritated that she did that, but maybe I'm just over-sensitive. I'm not sure what I would have done in that situation, but I probably would have told someone other than just my husband. I suppose everyone is different. No one ever said that tact was a strong suit of my MIL...

Homage to Fuck

So...based on Erin's post...I give you an homage to my favorite curse word...
)

Friends Don't Draw On Friends, Drunk....

That's all I'm sayin'.

One of the Most Memorable Days in KC Sports History

It was 25 yrs ago today.

George Brett and the pine tar bat incidient.

I remember my father going wild, raving against the injustice to our favorite Royals player. I didn't get what all the fuss was, since I was only 6. But, boy, I was mad because my Daddy said it was unfair.

Happy anniversary, George.

The Stripper and the Pizza Guy

Remember the story I told about my stripper roommate?

Handsome and I ordered pizza last night. The guy who delivered it was rather attractive and I commented on it to my very tolerant husband. (Neither of us have a problem with the other spouse's window shopping. As long as the other doesn't actually consider buying the merchandise. Or even touching it.)

Handsome suggested I should have paid him like Roxie paid the pizza guy during that fateful summer. I didn't think it was funny.

During the Summer of the Strippers, Roxie decided one night she wanted pizza.

We were going out with some friends (not friends of Roxie, or we would have invited her) and she was lamenting her lack of funds and we sort of left it at that.

After we came home, we noticed a pizza box on the kitchen table. I said to Handsome, "Oh good. She got her pizza."

Handsome started laughing, "That's not all she got!" pointing to the Papa John's hat sitting next to a set of keys.

Both of us were shocked. I was completely scandalized.

We had a friend in college who had once told us that when he worked as a repairman for AT&T he would have frisky housewives try to seduce him all the time. We thought he was totally making it up, because if you knew the guy, you couldn't see that really happening.

Now we began to wonder. I mean, who seduces a pizza guy just to get free pizza? Stuff like that happens on bad tv shows and in pizza guys' fantasies, not in real life. This was one of the first signs that maybe Roxie was starting to go off the deep end.

We tiptoed past her room and the next morning, (after the hat and keys were gone), I asked her if she'd shagged the pizza guy just to get a free pizza.

She laughed and said, "Basically. But it's ok. I knew him from when we were in school. I knew if I booty-called him, he'd bring me a free pizza. It was a small price to pay."

Stay tuned for other crap I remember.

You're not trying hard enough...

If you haven't discovered this awesome website, well...

You're just not trying hard enough...

more graph humor and song chart memes

For George....

So, the last post was a Beatles song, aptly performed by the illustrious Joe Cocker.

I would be remiss in allowing anyone to believe that a Beatles song could be sung better by someone who was not a Beatle.

There is no greater band in the history of the universe than the Beatles.

Period.

Don't fucking try to debate me unless it's the Doors.

Nirvana is close-ish...but not quite.

I remember the day John Lennon died. It was the first time I ever remember seeing my father cry...I was 4 at the time, but it was dramatic for my parents and it stuck with me. It was truly the day the music died, sorry, Don McLean.


The day George died, I wept. I was 25. I understood then what the world lost...

I was at work.

I read the MSN boards and someone said, "This is the day my guitar truly, gently weeps... rest in peace, George."

I had to go back and think.

In my pre-teen years, I remember George doing this shit:


I then learned what a writer he was and when he died, I learned what he quietly gave to the Beatles...


God bless the poetry The Beatles gave my youth, even if it wasn't my generation.

Secret Asian Man or Secret Agent Man

Handsome sent me this video today, knowing that I always thought "Secret Agent Man" was "Secret Asian Man" as a child....

To all of us who create our own lyrics, I give you this...


Enjoy....

You're a Tease, Mother Nature

Dear Mother Nature,

I'd like to file a formal complaint with you. Yes, I know you're busy with hurricanes and floods in other parts of the country, but here in KC, we could use a good, solid rain.

Look at your planner....yep, see...it's been a while. I think you're due, sweetheart.

That little temper tantrum of thunder and lightning last night was pretty, but you really didn't put any really feeling into it. The ground is still really dry this morning.

I'm not trying to be pushy or anything, but my flowers are wilting despite my best efforts and if you don't get around to it soon, my lawn is going to fry. Not that I'm one of those lawn-obsessive people, mind you. I'd just like a bit of relief.

So, if you can squeeze it into your tight schedule, I'd appreciate.

Sincerely,

Moxie

Creepy UPS Guy

The UPS Guy that delivers to our office looks relatively normal at first glance, late 20's, clean cut, but I assure you he is not all there. He gives off "creepy" vibes and talks in the most obnoxious voice about the weirdest shit.

Submitted for your consideration:

About 20 minutes ago I was outside our office, walking into the building. He's getting out of his truck, carrying our vital, urgently sent packages and I hold the door open for him.

UPS Guy: "Thanks, it sure is going to be a hot one today,"

(High of 88 predicted, much better than the 95 plus from last weekend)

Me: "Um, yeah."

UPS Guy: "Make sure you drink enough water and Gatorade today, you don't want to pass out."

Me (thinking in my head): WTF, I'm wearing a skirt and heels, it's obvious I don't work out in the elements, but an over air-conditioned office.

Me: (saying out loud): "Ok, you be careful too"


See, this wouldn't be really that weird if I hadn't have had a similar run-in on the Monday before Thanksgiving.

Him: "Have you started thawing your turkey out yet?"

Me: "Well, we're going to my mom's..."

Him: "Don't leave it out on the counter to thaw. That's how people get sick."

Me: "Ok."

Him: "I started thawing mine in the fridge last week, just so it'll be ready."

Me: (walking briskly away) "That's good advice, thanks."


I guess the guy's got some major issues with health. I can't figure out why he would completely, out of the blue, totally unprompted by any sense of camaraderie, give health advice like that to complete strangers.

Maybe I just attract the weirdos. I don't know.

Since I know you're not doing anything...

If you're in the KC area, check out the KC Fringe Fest. It's July 21-27th and it was really amusing last year.

I can't go this year since my MIL and FIL are coming into town, I've got to see my husband's non-fringed show, go to cast parties, work at the museum and attend a paranormal investigation. Plus, squeeze in time to see a very dear friend of mine who is briefly coming into town.

But you should totally go.

It's only $5 for an admission button and $5 per whatever show you would want to attend. Cheap! I would recommend the improv groups. I know a lot of them and they are actually really great. The art was really cool last year, I didn't get to hear any of the musicians, but like anything, I'm sure it's hit or miss. Some of it looks questionable, but who am I to judge?

Anyway, go out, support local artists, and enjoy more art than you can fart.

Not in KC? Fringe Fest is actually a worldwide event. Check out the history here. Pretty awesome concept, if you ask me.

Man-scara and Guy-liner

Subtitle: Honey, your gay is showing...


As an actor, my hubby's got a stage make-up kit. He's actually probably better than me at putting make up on, but of course, my daily spackle doesn't include cool scars and occasional facial disfigurements.

Handsome's latest show opened last weekend and he was running low on supplies. Here's how the conversation went:

Handsome: "I need to stop off and get some more stage make-up, I've been borrowing Gay Friend's guy-liner"

Me: "His what?!?"

Handsome: "His guy-liner. And his man-scara."

Me: "Are you serious?"

Handsome: "Yeah, I ran out during dress rehearsals."

Me: "No, what did you just call that stuff?"

Handsome: "You heard me."

Me: "Hand it over."

Handsome: "What?"

Me: "Give me your Man Card. Those terms just officially terminated your manliness."

Handsome: "Johnny Depp wears it. Pirates are manly."

Me: "You, sir, are no pirate."

Handsome: "ARRR!!!"

Me: "Keep working on it."

Handsome's not even remotely gay, but he does have distressing blips on his gay-dar. Like the fact that he likes Barry Manilow, is in musical theatre, cries during chick flicks and can do his own make-up so well.

The only thing saving him is his lack of fashion sense, his affinity for contact sports and his general handiness around the house. Oh yeah, and he likes girls, not boys.

When it rains, it pours

I've always hated that phrase. Sometimes it sprinkles. It's not always a huge storm.

Any way around it, this has been an incredibly busy freaking week and a half.

And there's no sign of it getting calmer until at least next week which seems like light years in the future.

This latest shitstorm of activity literally blindsided me. I wasn't expecting to be this busy. Sure I knew I had all this stuff on my calendar, but with a few extra irritations/opportunities thrown in, I'm now officially over my head.

Luckily, I'm usually a good swimmer.

I've had about 5,000 ideas for posts, I just haven't had the time to write anything. Which just makes me itchy to type. I'll start correcting that.

Maybe this week...we'll see.

Sorry Guys...I'm Lazy

I wanted to update my profile this weekend, but I got hella busy. Opps....enjoy the Red Necks in my previous post or the ones found here in the meantime. I still love you...Stay tuned...

Moxie Loves the Ignorant RedNecks...

Semi-Organized Changes

Stay tuned, Constant Reader. I'm going to attempt to shake some stuff up around here in the next couple of days/weeks (in my own good, but limited time). Now that I've said it out loud to the whole blogosphere, maybe now I'll actually do it.

Phase One: I've updated my blog roll to reflect my Google Reader blogs, so if you don't see your blog posted, let me know and I'll add you!

Phase Two: I'm also going to put my limited web design skilz to use and maybe come up with a better masthead/layout.

That will truly be interesting. Pardon the freaky electronic dust as I start my project soon.

Have a great weekend!

I know my ABC's...

A is for age. 31
B is for Burger of Choice. I'm going with the Lew Burger at Lew's Bar and Grill. It's perfect. Honorable mention goes to Red Robin and Westport Flea Market...
C is for Car. A silver Ford Focus. Sensible, reliable and cheap.
D is for daughters. I have the greatest little gal ever. I can't believe she's going to be 4 in another month or so.
E is for essential item you use every day. Cell phone. Which is constantly ringing.
F is for favorite tv show. No question about it. Mad Men on AMC. Brilliant and Season 2 starts July 27. But I also like "30 Days" and "Cities of the Underground"
G is for groceries. I'm currently in a cooking rut, relying on the easy, well-worn recipes. I need to shake it up a bit and hit the store with a list of ingredients. I did just discover a new recipe blog A Year of Crockpotting. Interesting stuff.
H is for how often you embarrass yourself. That's pretty hard to do, even though I'm semi-klutzy...
I is for ice cream. Foo's Fabulous Frozen Yogurt...Turtle Concrete.
J is for juice. I'm not a huge juice freak, but Darling's on a big Mango Juice kick right now, so that means I am too.
K is for kids. One beautiful little daughter.
L is for Lipstick. I have never found lipstick that looks remotely decent on me. But, I can't live without my kiwi lipgloss.
M is for Mexican food. I love it. My favorite is probably Manny's for "real Mexican" but I also love Chipotle (is it weird to crave cilantro rice?)
N is for number of piercings. 3 in my ears (one in the cartiledge)
O is for Optometry. Contacts. I'm blind.
P is for People You Were With Today. Co-workers, then hopefully tonight my hubby, daughter and my BFF. I'm dying to meet her 2 new Great Dane puppies.
Q is for Quiet Time. This is essential for my mental health. I love the 8:30 to 11 pm slot in my day. Darling's asleep and Handsome isn't home from rehearsal yet. Just Moxie time.
R is for Biggest Regret. I'm not sure I really have any that are too serious.
S is for sports you play. I played softball for my college team and taught Red Cross swimming for 11 years, but I like most sports.
T is for tattoo. None. Needles kind of freak me out a bit, so does searing pain. But if I ever did get one, it would be a Celtic Trinity Knot.
U is for what is unique about you. Probably my fear of garden gnomes, the fact that when I'm pissed, I curse in German, and that I can read Tarot cards scarily well.
V is for Vegetables you Love. I love veggies in all forms. My iron must be low because I'm craving beets, red cabbage and a spinach salad.
X is for number of x rays. Just one when I broke my arm falling on ice when I was 13.
Y is for Yummy Food you ate today. So far, just a Pop Tart. But I'm gearing up for lunchtime. Maybe a little Sweet Tomatoes for my veggie fix?
Z is for Zodiac. My zodiac signs are split. I was born on the Aries/Taurus cusp and while I'm technically a Taurus, I do have a splendid temper and passion for life.

Check out Average Jane and I, Shane's...pretty interesting memes!

To Forgive Is Divine, but is it really human?

So, my BFF and I were discussing the relationship of one of our really close friends tonight. Said friend shall be named Wronged, because, well, she was.

Wronged's husband cheated on her 2 years ago with a girl, Horse Face, we'll call her, because, well, she is.

It was a 2 night stand that he promptly cut off once he tamed his "passion"/trouser snake. She continued to carry on a psycho-stalker obsession that I'm pretty sure he didn't encourage. (Who knows, really?)

Wronged found out about it about 6 months after it happened and confronted him. He confessed (eventually) and they are trying to work it out. Counseling, talking it through, all that...

Good for them. Sometimes I think people give up on marriages that could be salvaged too soon. Sometimes it's just best to walk the fuck away. I don't know what's the right thing to do, but I'm proud of them for trying.

So, BFF and I were talking. I've been with Handsome for 11.5+ years and she's been with her hubby, Tony Soprano (we'll call him that because, well, he looks like him) for going on 9 years. We both are Catholic, moderately spoiled wives. Neither Handsome or Tony is likely to cheat.

But what if? What would we do? Tear his balls off or forgive and try to forget?

Wronged has been having a really hard time lately. Only a VERY few of us know what happened and Horse Face is in the Circle of Friends. There's no escaping her without it being obvious/questions being asked.

I respect the self control Wronged has shown in not scratching the bitch's eyes out for this long, but as BFF and I agreed, how incredibly hard is it to keep up the facade so no one else can see the seething anger and resentment she must feel?

Wronged is focused on fixing her marriage but because of Horse Face's nonchalant attitude is unable to forgive her/move on.

BFF and I both agree the marriage relationship is the most important thing to mend, but BFF argues that Wronged should forgive Horse Face.

I say she owes Horse Face nothing so compassionate as forgiveness. If it was just a one time stupid drunken mistake, sure, forgive, move on.

But it wasn't.

For months, this "friend" of Wronged deliberately tried to re-seduce her husband.

Why forgive if there is no sense of remorse or desire for true forgiveness?

Maybe I'm just cold and evil. But, I just don't think Wronged should offer unearned forgiveness. This isn't very Christian of me. I know it's mean, but when there are children involved and you're supposedly friends, how could you cheat with someone else's husband and just not care? (Believe me, she doesn't care. It probably makes her feel powerful that she caused such a scene.)

Am I right or is BFF right?

I always think forgiveness should be given, but in this situation...I just don't know. I love my Wronged friend, and walking a mile in her hypothetical moccassins just makes me cringe.

What would you do?

Stop Thief!

Oopps...

Handsome and I totally ripped off Quik Trip for $33.

Yesterday Handsome went to fill up the car with gas. When he put his gas id card in, it told him to see the cashier. He did. The cashier said we drove off last week without paying for our $33 worth of gas.

Handsome balked. Told him he always came into pay for gas. The cashier said, "No big deal, sometimes we switch to the next user before the last person pays so the system gets messed up."

And then he voided the $33 from last week.

Handsome makes it out the door and to the car before he realizes what happened.

Last week we went to QT. He filled up at the pump and I went inside for essential road trip snackies. I misunderstood Handsome who told me to let them know we had gas on pump 11. I paid for snacks alone and took off. I thought he was paying at the pump, as he sometimes does.

Handsome did not pay for the gas.

We just ripped off QT. I kind of feel bad about it. But then again, gas is expensive and we have absolute brand loyalty to that chain (Handsome will drive on fumes to get to QT). They are starting to get a bigger chunk of our paychecks each week.

Besides, it would be ridiculous to go back in a say, "Oh yeah, we really do owe this" because well, we'd look dumb.

I still feel like a thief...

Nope, still seething....

What's wrong with me?

Moxie Meltdown occured at 16:00 hours today. Now it's almost 22:00 hours.

And I'm still seething...

I'm not like this usually. I'm calm, cool and professional when it comes to disagreements. Then in private I rave at Handsome and release my anger on his sympathetic ear.

He listens. He makes me laugh about it. We hug. I'm done.

'Cept he's at rehearsal and I'm still in a frothy lather of anger.

It's nights like this that I crave stress relief in a softball bat and a whole lotta balls (in a batting cage, stop cringing boys)...

Or a really stiff, hard drink....

Or both...

I'm not going to sleep when I'm this angry...

That's a problem.

Speaking of Incredible Fireworks...

So how was your 4th of July?

Did you swell with patriotism?

Did you blow up Chinese fireworks in the name of Uncle Sam?

Did you sit on your butt and do nothing?

Me?

I went to my Mom and Dad's and had a little of this...

and some of this...

and a whole lotta this...

Don't worry, I'm not on vacation anymore, you will soon be returned to your regularly scheduled Moxie fix....

Seething...

Today I spectacularly lost my temper.

I was so filled with rage and indignation I was actually physically shaking. All because of a service provider. I won't get into details because I'm weary but ho-LEE SHIT (!) was it a blow up, kids!

Bigger than the Fourth of July fireworks.

Bigger than the eruption of Pompeii.

Believe me, when I say it was bad.

Handsome is usually the one that blows up, not me. I play the good cop to his freak out in situations. I'm the calm, cool, collected one. I never yell at worker bees.

I think I scared Handsome a bit....I might have even scared myself at my loss of control.

He's never seen me blow up at piss poor customer service in the almost 12 yrs we've been together.

Justified wrath can be beautiful. And quite the rush.

I should have used that adrenaline rush to have wild, thrashing sex with my gorgeous husband, but the moment passed and people would have stared (sorry, TMI). But it would have been incredible.

I feel righteous and cleansed any ol' who...

Summer of the Strippers....

Ok...I know there's a few people who are curious, from cryptic past posts...so I'll divulge it at last.

Summer 1998. Handsome and I have been dating a year, living in our first apartment and my weakness for lost causes shines thru.

We come home from a churchy function and a roving ska band is using our apartment to shower before they hit the road for Tennessee. There are towels, half naked men, drugs and tattoos everywhere.

But not Roxie. She was busy making out with a stranger in her bedroom.

It was the last straw....

Let me explain Roxie....

She was one of my best friends in high school. She was a year younger than I was but we met when I was a freshman and she was an 8th grader in our foreign language class. (Kanst du Deutsch sprechen?)

It was immediate connection for both of us. I was the good girl and she was the one who shook me up. Made me really challenge my bourgeoisie background.

Even though we grew up in the same small suburb outside of KC, we were inseparable and if you believe in reincarnation and that there are people you are always destined to meet, she's on my buddy list.

Even though we were as different as night and day. I used to call her my "Punk Rock Girl". In fact, we'd blare that song and sing/scream it in her car with all the windows down on warm, summer, teenage nights.


When I went away to college in KC, we lost touch for that year, only occasionally checking in. Some friendships don't need daily reminders...

Then, my sophomore year she started coming around a lot more. She moved out of her parents' house, was going to Longview Community College and every so often would show up on my doorstep at my college.

If ever there was someone who danced to the beat of their own drum it was her. Yet she was one of my greatest creative inspirations, even now, 10 yrs after our friendship ended.

She was the one who opened me up to "Trainspotting", Nutella, the English punk rock band Pulp, and creativity for the sake of art.

Ours was sometimes an unspoken friendship.

Like the night she wrecked her car and my roommate and I went and picked her up, not questioning why or how ...

Like the night she broke up with her boyfriend and I saw the bruises on her arms and I just held her when she cried...

Like the night she unexpectedly showed up like an angel after I was raped....when I took/smoked some drugs I shouldn't have and she rescued me and took me to my room and put me to bed, even though I begged her to let me die.

Things we never talked about afterwards because we didn't need to.

My junior year, she ended up in a bad spot. She moved in. She needed a place to stay and of course I'd say yes....

She needed a job.

So, she became a stripper.

I was surprised. I was the one with the athletic body and big boobs. She was the one who looked like a 6th grade school girl (her act I guess). I never thought she could/would do it, but she did.

Do you have any idea the look on the face of the checkout girl when we paid for our groceries in $1 and $5 bills?

Then it got out of hand. She spiraled down. She asked another girl, Trixie to move in with us without asking Handsome and I if it was ok. At our parties, she'd show anyone who wanted to see her clit ring. Weird people started hanging around Roxie and Trixie. In our apartment...our home...I got scared.

Trixie wasn't bad. She was a voluptuous blond from our hometown that was trying to earn money for college (cliche, I know, but in this case, it was true. She went back to school after that summer, easily able to pay tuition.) We developed a decent friendship.

Roxie got jealous and paranoid.

By the time we moved out, we weren't speaking. She left a huge stain of red and blue tempra paint on the carpet of her bedroom. (I still have the painting she painted and gave me for my high school graduation)

She moved out without a single word. Handsome and I did our best to get the paint out of the gray carpet, but it was a mess.

We haven't spoke since that time 10 yrs ago...

I think of her from time to time.

She's still a stripper. She moved back in with her parents.

I found her on MySpace last year and tried to contact her. Just to tell her I missed her and wanted to see her again, that all was forgiven. Water under the bridge and all of that. She just wrote back and said, "Sorry, I'm not her, hope you find your friend."

I know she's embarrassed that she hasn't moved on. That I married Handsome, have a child, a house, a real career. I know she always wanted those things but they just never seemed to land in her lap.

And that's how she liked fate. Nothing hard, nothing demanding. Just easy....

I still miss her. There's a little piece of me that isn't there any longer. Every time I hear someone speak German I think of her. Every time I see Nutella next to the Peanut Butter on the grocery store shelves. Every time I listen to Pulp.

I hate unfinished business...If not now, our next life...I hate that thought.

I miss my friend, but I rest easy for now.

Because I tried.

Because friendships are ultimately 2 way streets.

I did the best I could.

And I still love her.

For you, Roxie...tonight, 'cause I miss you...



Hey, wherever you are, Roxie, I hope we can mend it this time. I hope you "Choose Life" because you choose another strip tease and you know what this means...I hope you find the electrical tin opener someday...

Good Advice I was too young to understand at the time...

I watched "Romeo+Juliet" tonight and it sparked my Baz Luhrman....

I remember this the year I graduated high school (1995) and especially college (2000). Years after the fact, I realize the wisdom that I was too idealistic/too young too understand...geez, Kidz these days should take it more to heart than I did...

Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen!
Wear Sunscreen

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience…I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked….You're not as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you

Sing

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss

Don't waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind…the race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't, maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own..

Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time it's 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen...