A couple of you who know me well are aware of the fact that in highschool I was in the school musical production of The Sound of Music. I played the Postulant Nun.

(You in the back…stop fucking laughing. I know it’s ironic that I was a nun but close your pie-hole– people are trying to read.)

After all the rehersals, singing, and hearing “Doe a Deer” about 10 bazillion times I can no longer watch TSOM. Hell, just seeing something about it on t.v. will cause me to run screaming from the room.

I have VonTrapp-iphobia folks.

Yet so far. We got to the 1pm appointment to give them a check for the house– low and fucking behold they sold the house over the weekend and didn’t bother to call us and let us know. Now it’s back to the beginning with this *#$&@#(*$& house shopping. I mean c’mon, I can barely pick a type of spaghetti sauce at the grocery store my A.D.D. just kicks right in. Trying to pick a house has just been frustrating as hell.

I’ve lost intrest in the whole process really…all I want is something with four walls and a roof that won’t cost a million dollars a month to live in. Stuipd house. Stupid house shopping. Stupid asshole people who jacked up housing prices in Arizona. Blech.

It’s Miller Tequilla Time.

Have you ever opened your day planner and ran screaming from the room because Monday is packed to the gills? That’s today for me.

The Hotness and I finally found a house that we can both agree on, which is no small feat. I’m a little house kinda gal and he prefers larger homes. By the grace of the almighty and the builders at American Homes we’ve found something that is a little of both and tile floors throughout. At 1pm today we go in for negotiations *knock on wood*

My little brother is graduating high school in May, I’m so proud of him and all that jazz. However, I’m starting to wear thin with the whirlwind of activities and planning that surrounds this big day. As it stands I have a box of 100 un-addressed premium invitations, no senior pictures, a vague idea of where the party will be, a caterer that may or may not be in town to feed my guests, and a girl who will do the cake for us but doesn’t know what to charge me. So it goes without saying this week I need to bust out the pen and address book, get the boy to a studio, find a tent, have a plan “B” in place for food, and offer the girl a check for $65 for the cake. I’m still not sure how I ended up with this task but after the long track record of less than satisfactory performance from other family members *cough* it’s not that big of a surprise.

This all just scratches the surface of what I need to get done– lest we forget I need to have the syllabus for the class I’m teaching turned in by tomorrow and I have a website that’s long overdue for completion. God bless patient clients. It’s business as usual in the house o’ madness today…what’s new with you?

I don’t want to insult anyone’s intelligence here so please if you already knew this stuff just go on about your evening as you had planned. I’m a lil’ PMS-y.

Ahem.

IF YOU ARE DRIVING SLOW, KEEP YOUR FUCKING VEHICLE IN THE RIGHT LANE!!

THAT’S WHAT THIS FUCKING SIGN IS ALL ABOUT:

If you are speaking Spanish to me and I’m saying “NO COMPRENDO” raising your voice will not make me understand you!

ALL I HEAR IS REALLY LOUD SPANISH I STILL DON’T COMPRENDO.
LEARN FUCKING ENGLISH.

Ahem.

Do NOT try to impress or stump me with what you believe to be a witty blonde joke. I’ve heard them ALL. And here’s a little fact you stupid fat fucker….my IQ is higher than your body weight. I’m not amused.

Ahem.

Well I feel better now! Have a great weekend y’all!

Shit, I got tagged. I’m SO not good at them but I feel like a shmuck when I don’t do them so here we go (this is taking place of TT since I totally forgot and haven’t done it for like going on 3 weeks now…why break a good run right?):

1. I’ve never done illegal drugs (which is surprising considering my parents). I have however seriously considered trying Peyote; it’d be very Morrison ya know.

2. I think folks who take it upon themselves to tell other people they are weird are just fuckin’ stupid. News Flash: Everyone is weird, including you. Get the fuck over it.

3. I use men’s deodorant (Old Spice if’in ya wanna know) it’s cheaper and it works better.

4. This doesn’t surprise me in the fuckin’ least. Ahhhh the irony.

5. I like George Carlin; he’s a funny bastard and speaks a lotta truth.

6. Due to unforeseen mechanical difficulties (i.e. my eyes are shit) I am now wearing fucking reading glasses to do anything that requires words printed or on a screen. Goody gumdrops, I’m a four eyes. Now I’ll never be picked first in dodge ball again.
*le sigh*

I’m not taggin’ anyone with this…if you wanna do it rock out…k?

Here are the rules of this tag:
1.Go write 6 strange facts/things/etc. about yourself on your blog, then tag six more people!
2. Then leave a comment that says “You are tagged” in their comments telling them to read your blog.