It Pays to Be a Slacker

Special bonus for those of you too lazy to remove MWT from your feed readers!

New blog is HERE.

xoxo

I Am THAT GUY

So. Listen. If there's one thing I hate, it's when bloggers go all drama queen/king and hand-wring over the state of their blogs.

However. Things are...not good. I don't really want to get into it, obv, but I'm sure you can use your collective imaginations . Lord knows you are a well and truly fucked-up lot, which is why I love you. Anyway, it's not, like, VAMPIRE-RELATED or anything (UNFORTUNATELY--are you guys watching True Blood?) Just standard shitty divorce stuff. Well, standard when you're beginning to approach the Trainwreck section of the bell curve.

At any rate, I'm going to have to make the blog private for a while, and also stop writing it. And that's that. Spoken like a true emotional cripple.

I will be okay, and there are good things going on in my life, and I promise I'll be back to tell you all about it. Um, with like 5 readers. Well, whatev.

Also, I'll still be around, reading and even commenting when the spirit moves me (DIVORCE CARD), so don't break out the streamers and party balloons just yet.

See you all soon(ish)-
xoxo

The Lip

Hey, do you guys remember when Swistle posted about her daughter and "The Lip"? And oh how we chuckled, and closed our browsers, and went on with our days, all, "SUX TO BE YOU! Good luck with that Lip thing!"*

Yeah. Ermm.

I ask you. What could possibly be her problem when she's wearing the World's Cutest Outfit? IT HAS A COORDINATING NECKTIE, for fuck's sake!

*Possibly was just me

Yes, this srsly IS what I'm posting

You guys. Look at the size of this fucking coffee. I mean, it reminds me of the GRAIN SILOS back home:

Amount of time today spent McGyvering (totally a word) office supplies* just so I could include them "for scale": mumblemumbleDIVORCECARD minutes

Amount of time today spent WORKING: Erm.

*Ideas considered and rejected: affixing paper clip to table with CHEWED GUM (too early for gum), propping BUSINESS CARD in front (too stupid, even for me), placing coffee next to SEVERED HEAD for comparison purposes (office scissors too blunt for severing).

Fun Fact Friday-European Vacation Edition

*I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I was the only person in all of London-slash-Paris who was NOT sporting skinny jeans. Well, except for a few other Lame Americans. YOU WILL KNOW US BY OUR BOOT-CUTS, people.

*While I (inexplicably) don't mind the Leggings Phenomenon, I'm afraid I still cannot stomach skinny jeans, even while holding my nose. It is just TOO SOON, ya know? I'm not ready.

*We took the STAIRS to the top of the Eiffel Tower, while carrying two days' worth of luggage on our decidedly non-packmulish backs. THANK YOU STAIRMASTER!

*A couple I was friends with in college got engaged at the top of the Eiffel Tower. She was on vacation with her family, and he showed up (in Paris! At the top of the Eiffel effing Tower!) to surprise her. To this day, it's probably the best engagement story I've ever heard.

*Turns out I require upwards of a QUARTER-CUP of mayonnaise to properly consume an order of "frites" at a Belgian restaurant.

*I am utterly unable to master the mechanics of chopsticks, even under threat of certain humiliation and before my first glass of wine. I just...HOW? And why does it look SO EASY? Am I...*gasp* TRYING TOO HARD slash OVERTHINKING? Surely not. That would be most unlike me. AND YET.

*The British make liberal use of the word "fuck", and I don't think I have to tell you how well this suits me. I sigh happily even now just thinking of it. My favorite usage by far is, "OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!". Hee!

*If you are short, you may as well skip the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. I'm just sayin. You will be able to watch it in the viewing panes of other people's cameras, and...that's about it.

*The only souvenir I regret not buying is a pink "This is my dance space" tank top from the Dirty Dancing musical we saw in London (OMG IT WAS SO GOOD I LOVED IT SO MUCH).

*In all my life, I have never known anyone as generous and fun-loving as my friend Woz. I wish for all of you to have the type of friend who would book you a plane ticket to London (also: PARIS!) on a moment's notice, based only on your shitty day and a desire to drink with you in person. Woz puts people before money every. single. time, and that's just one of the many things I lurve about her (also: the fact that neither of us will ever, EVER be president due to a wide variety of shenanigans).

Thanks, man. You always know just what to do.

Look Kids! Big Ben! Empty Blog Space!

SOOOO. Tessie went to Europe and all you got was, well, one half-assed "Tweet" (Le Sigh) and stony silence in response to your lovely emails and comments. WELL DONE ME.

I've got some totally kick-ass accents to make fun of, but also ONE-HUNDRED and SIXTY SEVEN emails (true fucking story), so I'm afraid in the grand tradition of lame post-vacation blog posts I'm going to have to leave you with this, and only this:

Go ahead, you fuckers. Tell me ALL ABOUT how different I look. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO.

Ermm, HI?

Dear Internets,

How are you? I am fine, where "fine" is defined as "sorta shitty, if we're being honest, but I don't really wanna talk about it".

We are in kind of a...LOGISTIC-Y phase with the whole divorce thing, and you can imagine how I feel about THAT. I must say that so far, this whole thing has made me realize I'm really cut out to be some kind of fabulously wealthy celebrity, with a publicist to send out press releases, and an assistant to change all my bank accounts and credit cards, and a body double at work. Basically, I just want to handle the drinking and shopping.

Anyway, this really is a middle-class sob story, since I seriously have something awesome going on this week: I'm going to Europe tomorrow! TRUE FUCKING STORY! In an epic play of the Divorce Card, I'm going to go spend a week with uber-fabulous Londoner and drinker extraordinaire Woz! (bonus true story: she sent me a hilariously fussy ITINERARY, detailing each day from 0700 to 2200 hours, all contingent upon us not "hurting ourselves drinking". HEE! Also: SEND LIVER FUNCTION GAH)

So, all this to say that the total fucking LAME-O-RAMA around here is likely to continue at least through the next week. If not into PERPETUITY. JESUS. That's how badly I suck lately.

If you're really jonesing for a Taste of Tessie (GROSS!), you could always go check out the Pay It Forward package I sent Whimsy. Yeah, I know the contest was a month ago. Say hello to my little friend the DIVORCE CARD, motherfucker!

(Not pictured in Whimsy's post: the package itself, which was "sealed" entirely with SCOTCH TAPE. Basically, the whole works was the Essence of Me).

Snapped

This Morning:

Tessie: Come on, goose! Open the door, please!
AD: WHY?
Tessie: Because you have to get in your seat!
AD: WHY?
Tessie: Because we have to get going!
AD: WHY?
Tessie: Because we're going to go to school today!
AD: WHY?
Tessie: ARGG! Because IT'S FRIDAY, YOU AIN'T GOT NO JOB, AND YOU AIN'T GOT SHIT TO DO!

The Deuce

Here are a couple of things that have happened since last I posted:

*AD turned TWO! No shit!

*I received about 20 emails, all of which I filed away "to return later" like giant Divorce-Card-Wielding bitch/hag.

*Gev got kicked off SYTYCD. POUT.

*I purchased Step Up 2 on DVD. God help me, I THOUGHT IT WAS GOOD, as long as you ignore any and all alleged ACTING by "actors".

So, yeah. I am the mother of a TWO-YEAR-OLD. And in typical two-year-old fashion, AD totally cooperated with my efforts to get a Touching Milestone Birthday Picture as I dropped her off at daycare:

Take One: Please! No photos!

Take Two: Actual FINGER UP NOSE, for the love of christ

Terrible twos, here we come! I sincerely hope she accepts the Divorce Card! Although, now that I think of it, the Divorce Card is trumped by the Child Of Broken Home card. Hmm. Check and MATE.

Blog Share

This post is part of -R-'s Blog Share and was written by an anonymous blogger (not Tessie). Tessie's post today appears anonymously on another Blog Share participant's blog. Tessie hopes you will play along and read and comment and all that jazz even though it's totally bizarre how she's gone all Third Person on your ass here.

My grandmother has informed her four children that she is cutting three of them out of her will.

This is the sort of vindictive, mean-spirited thing a person usually does to have a final revenge from beyond the grave, but that would not be her style, because she would not be around to witness the hurt and anger that would result.

Actually, it's much worse. She does not actually have a will. She is telling her children this now so that they will feel compelled to follow her wishes after she is gone even though if there is no legal document backing any of it up. Even if the law says that without a will, all four of her children will inherit her estate. She refuses to get a will because, she claims, she doesn't have anything.

I knew my grandmother was crazy, but this really takes the cake. This revelation upset my mom and her two brothers who are cut out, and -- shocker of shockers! -- my grandmother is now upset that THEY are upset! There isn't anything to give away, you see! How dare they want smaller and smaller pieces of nothing? Can't they see that their brother is the only one who really needs the nothing she will be giving? What a bunch of ingrates! If she hadn't already cut them out, she definitely would now!

It is NOT about money: my grandmother does not have any. But I think it's telling that that is how she is framing the issue. It either has not occurred to her that anyone would want something to remember her by, or she is desperate for people to SAY that they do. I suspect that it is the latter, if only because it would give her such pleasure to hold it over the head of whoever cracked and said it first. ("You want my spoon collection because it reminds you of me? Yes, I knew you would want it. Too bad. It's going to your big brother anyway. It would be too much work to put all of my stuff in four boxes instead of one. That would be TIRING. What, you think I'm healthy enough to pack boxes?")

And there is nothing I can say other than to comfort my mother by pointing out that she didn't cause any of this, and reassure her that today is Blog Share day, so nobody knows it is me and nobody knows it is her. Really. Well, one of my siblings does, but none of this is a surprise to my family.

I wouldn't post this on my own blog because my mother wouldn't want it there, but I know she will read this and recognise herself. I want her to know that our family loves her very much and that she doesn't deserve any of the mind games her mother has played on her over the past few decades.

Latah, UAFT!

Here's something else that does NOT suck about getting divorced: having complete control over my Stuff.

Last night I was cleaning this hideous table slash lamp that BR insisted on keeping next to his end of the couch, and thinking to myself, as I have EACH AND EVERY TIME I have ever cleaned it, "GodDAMN I hate this ugly-ass fucking table! It makes me feel like I'm on the set of The Ladies Man!".

And then I thought, WAIT A MINUTE.

See ya, Ugly-Ass Fucking Table! Don't let the beaded curtain hit your ass on the way out!

*EVIL CACKLE OF GLEE slash HAPPY DANCE*

Divorce Card Strikes Again!

You guys. Guess what just got delivered TO MY OFFICE? (also: hello boring office furniture!)

Alice and Jess sent me a mofo CARE PACKAGE! Holy SHIT! In the words of Clark W. Griswold, I couldn't have been more surprised if I woke up with my head sewn to the carpet!

There are Sour Patch Kids, Wine charm thingees, this wicked awesome Cool Shooters mold that lets you make an ICE CUBE in the shape of a SHOT GLASS, chocolate-covered coffee beans, Homemade COOKIES (!), Blue pens (OBV), and an adorable little birdie candle! Man, they are no skimmers, eh?

Plus the Card of Greatness, which on the inside says, "Sorry things suck right now". HEE!

Thank you guys, seriously, so much. This time in my life would be totally, TOTALLY different if I didn't have this blog, and not in a good way.

SO MANY wicked cool people read this thing. WHY? HOW? At any rate, I'm not one to look a gift cookie in the mouth (or...whatever), so I'll just say:

Thanks.

xoxo

Fun Fact Friday!

*I love all of your Twitters. You are all HILARIOUS, The End.

*I bought the Bare Minerals starter kit, but I have not yet bothered to watch the INSTRUCTIONAL DVD that came with it. Yeah. That sounds like something I'll get around to on the 12th of NEVAH.

*I hire someone to mow my lawn, even though I only have grass in the front yard.

*I just had to go back and change the "we"s in that sentence to "I"s. Sigh.

*I am staying in the house. BR has moved to a townhouse a few miles away.

*But I kept the TWO LARGE ROTTWEILERS, so don't get any ideas, stalkers.

*Last night the cable was out in the gym (my home gym)(middle class sob stoooooorry!), so I was forced to watch Step Up while I ran on the treadmill. Yeah, I have it on DVD. Like you don't.

*I think Channing Tatum, the main dude in the movie, looks EXACTLY like one of my college boyfriends.

*I'm thinking No More Hot Guys could be my newest Policy.

*Speaking of college, I had some totally FREAKY exchanges with one of my favorite bloggers yesterday. I met slynnro ON THE INTERNETS when she commented on one of my CBU posts. And yet, turns out? We know all of the same people and ATTENDED THE SAME PARTIES. Like, she was there, and I was there. It's like Sliding Doors, or some shit. Whoa.

Oh Goodie, A DIVORCE BLOG

You know what's weird? Now that the whole divorce thing (tangent! I spell it "divroce" every! single! time!) is out there, I have a lot to say about it. I mean, if you're interested. And why wouldn't you be? It's not a Nervous Tummy topic at ALL, right? Um. Anyway.

Internet slash information HOOR that I am, I searched and SEARCHED for personal blogs that talked about going through this, and I didn't really find much. Yet, I know from all of your comments and emails (THANK YOU HOLY SHIT) that many of us HAVE gone through it. So, I guess my point is that I'm pretty dumb, for a smart person, and therefore I'm willing to talk about this stuff, if there's anything you want to know.

I'll start. Here is something awesome about getting divorced: The Divorce Card. The Divorce Card is most effectively played immediately after you tell people, but depending on how miserable you are and how much you milk it, I'm thinking it can be used for up to a year or more! ACES!

Blog boring as shit and infrequently updated? No worries! You're getting a divorce!

Staring off into space for hours at a time at work, closing your door in clear violation of dorky "open door policy"? It's okay! You're getting a divorce!

Feel like getting drunk? Your friends will drop everything to come over! It's your TIME OF NEED, for chrissakes!

Want to eat popcorn and giant hunks of cheese for dinner every night for weeks on end? No problem! At least you're eating!

Forget birthdays, anniversaries, general hygiene, WHATEV? DIVORCE CARD!

So, there's that. I'm going to have to act considerably more pathetic if I want to keep playing it, though. Not really my forte. I guess I could always pull my nose hairs, in a pinch. I've heard that works.

Inadvisable Post-Divorce Decision #1

I joined Twitter.

Yeah. You're welcome.

I'm Alright, I'm Alright...It Only Hurts When I Breathe

I haven't spent a lot of time, or any time really, thinking about what I want to write about My Deal. I guess I figured there was no point, since I'm never going to be the type of person who is good with pulling the heartstrings. When someone tells me that they've read all the archives on this blog, I always wonder what they think. I wonder if they think I'm shallow. I wonder if they think I'm a flighty nitwit and an underthinker. I wonder if they know I spend 75% of my time in my own head and that I'm generally introverted.

When it comes to Deals, my default position is Reveal Nothing. Sort of like I have for the last several weeks on this blog, and for upwards of several YEARS in other situations. This is the essence of my personal brand of Emotional Cripple. In my world, if you have something serious to talk about, and you can't make a joke about it or keep a stiff upper lip, then you just shut the fuck up. No One Wants To Hear That Shit, and all that.

I don't really know why I'm like this (um, yes I do, EMOTIONALLY CRIPPLED FAMILY), because as a rule, I DO want to hear that shit from my friends and family. And from all of YOU. There are very few things that any of you could say that would offend or disinterest me in any way.

So, I'm not sure why I haven't wanted to tell you that BR and I are separated, and that we're getting a divorce.

One reason is that I'm completely burnt out on telling people. It's been like one of those episodes of Oprah where the germophobes have to lick the trashcans. Watch the Emotional Cripple, who tends towards awkwardness in serious, if not all situations, repeatedly have Serious Conversations with everyone she knows! In which she admits failure of epic proportions and reveals various personality and judgement flaws! For someone like me, well, that part is terrible. It's excruciating. It makes me want to be alone. It makes me want to be invisible.

One thing I want to say is that no one is at fault. Well, other than BOTH of us. This was not caused by any type of Deal-Breaking Incident, and we are on good terms. It also goes without saying, I hope, that BR is a great person and a wonderful dad. There's more to our relationship than the things I've written about, obviously, but the things I HAVE written about are all us, too.

I don't know what else to say. I know some of you have questions or comments, but don't want to "pry", and I want you all to know that I don't mind. I'm happy to talk about it, now that the "telling" is out of the way.

I think I'm a hopeful person, as a rule. I want you all to know that your blog posts and comments and emails ADD to that feeling, not take away from it. My wish is that you feel the same way about the things I write. Even this.

WINNAH

Hello! I have been drinking! Oh, fuck you. Like you haven't. It's the 4th of July, for gods sake!

Anyhoozers! The contest dealie! We have a winner, and she is Whimsy! Yay! Whimsy, I'm emailing you soonish. Oh, fine, NOW. I used a random number generator, too, so pipe down, losers. I'm too drunk to mess with favoritism. Pfft.

Thanks for all the hilarious theories on My Deal. Big Boring Reveal to come shortly, and boy howdy are some of you going DOWN with those fucked up guesses. Heh. Love you all.

You want lame? I'LL GIVE YOU LAME!

ALL RIGHT! I'm UP! (said in my best Adam-Sandler-in-Big-Daddy voice)*

Damn you people and your demand for quantity versus quality!

Just for that...PICTURES. Of my KID. Oh ho HO! How do you like me NOW, eh? I'll show YOU quantity!

Experiencing the fine Minnesota tradition of...throwing rocks into the lake. You're welcome, swimmers!

First fish! It's a Sunny. I know, it looks like BAIT. You see how far away I am, taking this? That's because my dad used to make us put OUR OWN WORMS on the hook. Result: EMOTIONAL CRIPPLE. Oh, fine. That's not why. Still. The trauma. It is fresh.

First...ORANGE POP. TRUE EFFING STORY. Gah. Gross. Look at her, opening her mouth like a little baby bird! Grandparents. Honestly. I practically had to pry an orange pop out of his cold, dead, hands back in my day.

*TANGENT! I have a pretty major Adam-Sandler-quote, uh, PROBLEM. This is SO LAME and also is really starting to DATE ME, but...I cannot stop. I'm going to be, like, EIGHTY pulling this shit.

Tessie's sister: *steps on lego* Ow! Sheee-it!
Tessie: Scuba Steve! DAMN YOU!

Tessie's friend: You look weird in this picture.
Tessie: I know. They fucking superimposed me!

Cute intern at Tessie's work: This is my friend, Sara!
Tessie: *snort* What? Friends listen to Endless Love in the dark!

Tessie, in a variety of inappropriate situations: FUCK ME IN THE GOAT ASS! (hmm. NEW TAGLINE!)

GOD, I hope you people are happy. This is OFF THE RAILS.

What's My Deal?

Hey! You know who could use some good ju-ju, such as the type that might result from Paying It Forward? ME! THAT'S WHO! I'm a fucking mess over here!

So. Let's do this Pay It Forward thing, shall we? Do we have to CHIT-CHAT about it? Is this the only blog you people READ? If so, you've certainly had some free time on your hands lately, eh?

Anyway. Executive Summary. You leave a comment on this post by this Friday. I pick one of you, maybe randomly, maybe based on an elaborate system of FAVORITISM, how the hell will you know? I'm in charge here! Then. I send you a present. Maybe an "I Wish I Were Dead" mug. Who knows. You never can tell with me. Man, I make this sound GOOD, don't I?

After that, in theory you Pay It Forward by doing the same thing. I mean, if you want to. I'm not the boss of you.

Don't you roll your eyes at me, either, you jaded bastards! You will enter my contest and YOU WILL LIKE IT! Throw me a fricking BONE here!

Here is the theme I have carefully selected for your comments: What's My Deal?

My sister used to play a game in public places called "What's Their Deal?". You know, she would just watch people and try to figure out what was going on with them. Always hilarious and good for a little pick-me-up.

Many of you have guessed that something, or some combination of things, is/are up with me. So, I want to hear YOUR hilarious and thought-provoking guesses. If you already know, just be creative, for gods sake!

What's my deal?

THE SHAME, It Causes Me to Update Through My Goddamned PHONE

Man, you are all a bunch of hand-wringing motherfuckers, ya know that? AND I LOVE YOU.

Better-late-than-never Friday Fun Fact: I'm in Minnesota with AD. Sort of a spur of the moment, last-chance-to-fly-toddler-for-free deal. Slash FAMILY REUNION. Jesus. Is that like a one-two punch of shitty "vacation", or what?

Anyway, I only have access to internet through the new BatPhone, which I think we've established is way, WAY smarter than me. In fact, it's a goddamned miracle that I was able to type this much. WITH PUNCTUATION. That caps thing alone just took like 5 minutes. But I persevere! FOR YOU!

(You: *sarcastic slow clap*)

Be back soon when the fam's off my ass. Thanks for caring.

xoxox