Kids: They Are Separate From You!

I once had a friend in college who, while complaining about his Helicoptor Mother, said to me, "Parents. They think if they didn't teach you something directly, then you couldn't possibly know it".

Man, isn't that the truth? In theory, I know that AD is off at "school" all day, learning shit and dancing a jig and collecting plague microbes and whatev, but it still shocks me everytime she pulls something totally new (to me) out of her tiny ass.

Last night we were out getting the mail, and a black cat crossed our path (ruh-roh):

Tessie: Look, a KITTY!
AD: Me-wow!
Tessie (out loud): The kitty DOES say meow! Where did you learn that?
Tessie (in head): Not from ME, that's for damn sure. Maybe she's a Parselmouth. That would be SO AWESOME. I knew BR was a wizard!

This is like the time when I discovered that she also inexplicably knows the signs for "more", "milk", and "all done". Which, I, uh, sort of had to look up after the fact. Good thing SOMEONE's on the stick with this stuff, eh? (WHO?)(Way to follow up, Tessie!)

Where am I GOING with this? This post is reeking of BRAGGY, when I really meant to say I SUCK (there's a fresh theme!) and also have some kind of motherly ego issue which prevents me from processing the idea that my kid can learn stuff when I'm not around.

Well, at the very least she should start bringing home stuff that's useful TO ME, like Spanish or the meaning behind LOST or something.

I Hear They Also Make Donuts (PFFFT)

Oh my GOD I have had a lot of coffee this morning. I know, I'm the Little Girl Who Cried Coffee. This time I really mean it! I went to Dunkin Donuts today! Those wily East Coast bastards are popping up EVERYWHERE around here! TEXAS NOW RUNS ON DUNKINS PEOPLE. WHEEE!

BR is pumped, even though he doesn't drink coffee (or pop, WHAT THE FUCK?). His family is seriously hahdcore on the Dunkins, that's for sure. The last time they were here they revealed that none of them had ever been to Starbucks. Um, QUE? I thought EVERYONE had? I mean Boston, that's in AMERICA, right? But they also drink plain iced coffee (WRONG on so many levels), so what do they know? I bolt my coffee fast enough without introducing a fucking STRAW into the equation. In summary: wait, what?

We pause for this brief(ish) boring message (totally not pausing):

PSA: Blogger Profiles

• I've had a few new commenters lately (GRACIAS!)(Tourettes en espanol today!), and I've noticed that many of you who use Blogger don't have public profiles (i.e. when I click on your name from your comment, I can't get to your profile and therefore your blog). If that's the way you WANT it, that's totally cool and awesome and earns the BR Seal of Approval, but it has come to my attention that some people DON'T want it that way but just don't know how to change it. If you use Blogger, and you don't mind others finding your blog through the hilarious and poignant comments you no doubt leave, here's what to do:

1. Go to your Blogger Dashboard (where you sign into your account)
2. Off to the far right, click the Edit Profile link
3. Under Edit User Profile, check the "Share My Profile" Box
4. Click "Save Profile" at the bottom of the page
5. Go ahead and top off your coffee (still totally counting it as one cup)

Hey Skimmers. Yeah, there's more, down here. What's that, this doesn't APPLY to you? How about I APPLY my fist to your kneecap? (why the kneecap?)(this is totally the coffee talking)(NEW TAGLINE!).

Things I'm Crabby About--Another Fresh Topic Idea

*BR is running the Boston Marathon in April. This is filling me with bitterness (slash sour grapes), mostly because I've never qualified for Boston (you have to run another marathon under a certain time to be eligible), nor am I likely to qualify any time soon. I was very close to qualifying before I found out I was pregnant with AD, but then the whole gestating and birthing thing happened (TO ME. BR came away miraculously unscathed). Also, he was kind enough to train for several qualifying races we had planned to do together while I watched sadly from the Pregnant Bench, which I thought was so, so SWEET, and did (does) not make me want to punch anyone in the face AT ALL.

Anyway, the qualifying time for my age group is 3 hours, 40 minutes, which translates to just under 8:30/mile pace. For 26.2 miles. OR, I could just wait until I'm 80, when I'll have a leisurely 5 hours and 30 minutes to qualify. BAH. What's stopping me from running my ass into the ground and training for a qualifying time NOW, you ask? SHUT UP, that's what. Leave me to my bitterness.


*I tried to bring AD to see the mall Easter Bunny this weekend. *SIGH* *Punches desk repeatedly*. Do I even need to go on with this story?


*Would you like to see the most depressing picture ever taken of me?
Putting aside the fact that I'm on my hands and knees cleaning up some kind of Toxic Spill, while The Spiller looks on in glee, LOOK AT MY HAIR! People, I have not had a haircut in OVER A YEAR, and this is how I wear my hair ALL THE TIME. I'm wearing it like that NOW. At WORK. What haircut do you recommend for someone with straight, limpish hair who also requires a morning hair "routine" of five minutes or less? Where that five minutes also includes a shower?

Hot or Not?*

So, you guys are not down with David Hernandez, the gay male stripper? Well, PFFT. I said he is HOT, is all! I made no comment on his talent or topless gay bartending ability! Damn you wimmins and your inability to separate hotness as an independent variable!

Also, when I said I "liked" David Archuleta and Jason Castro, I meant I liked them as favorites in the competition! I don't LIKE THEM like them! EWW! David Archuleta looks like a 13-year old choir boy (seriously, doesn't that kid just SCREAM Mormon?) and Jason Castro looks like a GIRL!

Phew. Well, I'm glad we cleared that up.

But since we've already Gone There, you know who else I have a crush on?

Gordon Ramsey, that's who! How do you like THAT, internets?

Assholes. It's a theme with me. Also: Fussy Taunters

*Do you guys REMEMBER this website? Horrifying. I'm afraid to look and see if it's still out there. Although if I DID look, I would definitely try to find the picture of an ex-boyfriend, who back in the day submitted a topless photo of himself IN FRONT OF THE ITALIAN FLAG. GAH!

Three Things: Bring The Funk Edition

*In a highly original turn of events, I am experiencing some kind of late-winter FUNK. My mood is positively FOUL, people! Everything's a pain in my ass, I hate all of my clothes and shoes and ESPECIALLY my hair, and I can't get ahead at work no matter how much time I spend blogging and commenting. Bah. I'm a total (internal) Eeyore over here. Well, if Eeyore had too much coffee and a fairly serious procrastination problem. Also, a machine gun.

*BR is positively insufferable about Hillary Clinton's performance in the TX primaries (he supports Clinton, and I support Obama). This is merely a symptom of a larger problem, which is his penchant for taunting me about EVERY DAMN THING. He taunts me when I get an answer wrong on 1 vs. 100. He taunts me when I forget to record Jon and Kate Plus 8. He fucking taunts me when my favorite American Idol contestant gets shot down by Simon Cowell. Men, listen to me. I know taunting or "ball-busting" or whatev is a fine Y-Chromosome tradition, but as CONSTANT RUNNING COMMENTARY, it is enjoyed to a lesser extent among your lady friends. You don't see a group of women doing an end-zone dance every time one of them accidentally wears mismatched socks. Well, you don't see it on the OUTSIDE, anyway.

*Speaking of both BR and American Idol, I think David Hernandez is hot, although he's not my favorite on the show (I like David Archuletta and Jason Castro, thanks for asking). Anyway, if you're having trouble keeping your AI Davids straight, I'm talking about this guy:
When I mentioned it last night, BR was all "Oh, I TOTALLY called that. He's SO youah type". Heh. And also: ARGG! What the fuck does that mean? Although he is 1) hot and 2)Fake Hispanic, so maybe it IS a total no-shitter. He's probably a fucking MAD TAUNTER too.




So! Are you feeling at all uplifted by this talk? Yeah, me neither. Well, maybe this will help:

Mr. Truvy's Hair Salon

Result: Not Half Bad

**I'm B-AH and I did not approve this message. Especially the part where I'm doing heyah with my shirt off.**

Skimmers, This One's For You

So listen. You know what happens when you tag me for a meme? What happens is, I read it, and maybe I even say say "sure!", and then I go about my business for weeks slash MONTHS, until one day when my Blog Content Tank is on "E" (as opposed to the usual fumes), I will think to myself, "What is the EASIEST meme I have been tagged for and completely ignored?". Man. I am SUCH a bitch. And as evidence, I present Exhibit A:

That Self-Promoty Meme! (Courtesy of skiplovey)(And possibly others?)(Oh, dear)(This is Exhibit B)

The first requirement of this deal is to post a link to one of my posts about Family. Here's one about my mom and her damn dirty hippie heart.

Next is Friends. Here's one about my college running buddy and frequent commenter Carla. I know I have other friends reading this thing who never comment--maybe if you step it up, you'll get YOUR own posts, jackasses! Isn't being my friend AWESOME?

Third is Myself. Here's a post about how I'm an enigma, wrapped in a mystery, shrouded in Old Navy Fleece.

Fourth is about Something I Love: CLAM CHOWDAH!

And the last link can be about Anything. I'm picking this post about how I found out I was pregnant, since it's one of like 3 posts that I've ever managed to end in a non-awk manner.

So, yeah. Looks like we're still at 3 then.

Guest Post: BR

So, on Friday Erin caught me being a little Fussypants about the watch and the coffee and whatnot, and accused me of secretly replacing your Regular Tessie with BR. Listen people, if BR ever starts blogging, you all will be the FIRST TO KNOW. We are nothing if not Fair and Balanced around here (*SNORT*). But that got me thinking (ruh-roh), and as a result I present you with:

A (Hypothetical) Guest Post, By Guest Authah B-AH:

'Sup, shady intahnet charactahs, if those AH in fact youah real names. This is B-AH, as Tessie likes to call me. She would much rathah use my real name, because she nevah THINKS IT THROUGH FOAH THE LOVE OF GAWD, but luckily she has me to pull her head out of her ass. I mean, we don't know which govahment agencies ah reading and WHAT they ah adding to theah dossiers! Tessie keeps telling me it's mostly mommybloggahs and funny Minnesotans reading, but then again she's always downplaying the dangah of EVERYTHING. If it was up to her, we'd all be lying in shallow unmahked graves right now, ah identities stolen as if we nevah existed!

Anyway, I don't know who you people ah oah what festishes you ah rockin', and I don't WANNA know. I like to sleep at night, and that's why I don't read this thing. LATAH.

P.S.-GO RED SOWX!

I've got my eye on you, Fokkah. You see that scah? That's from when I killed an intahnet predatah.