Good Thing You Didn't Die, Dog and Other News

"Oh I'm just going to hide under this table because if the shit I eat doesn't kill me, my mom will. Because I'm an idiot."


I would like to thank my idiot dog Kito, who already put me through this bullshit, for ruining my big blog announcement because all I can think about is WTF, why don't you have any impulse control??? Seriously, I'm not even masking my vulgarity today. I'm not even going to link you to my big news on this blog because I don't want it sharing the same page, but I need to get my rage out ASAP because right now this psycho is hiding under the table because he senses my carnal urge to FREAKING END HIM.

No, it doesn't matter that I'm googling madly to see if he's going to die of eating raw chicken. (he's not) or that now I have to monitor his activity for the inevitable epic dump he's going to take, presumably all over a four thousand dollar persian carpet, like he did last week.

All I can see right now is red and if that dog has enough sense to hide under the damn table, then why can't he control his impulses to not be a jackass. I have no idea.

It's not like this dog isn't spoiled stupid. HE GETS INTO EVERYTHING. There is no dog whisperer that can help him without charging us thousands. I dont know how he is still finding socks, we don't even really have that many left but he is still pooping those out too.

I don't want him to have to go through surgery or being put down but mostly, I don't want ME or the kids to have to go through that again. I was a freaking mess!!! And this joker dog is incapable of reform. OMG.

FAIL!!!!

(to the anonymous hateful commenter, cont'd)

Feel free to continue reading, but my blog is still aimed at that one person who anonymously , venomously attacked my honor for no reason and actually made me cry. My Twitter family is in agreement that you are a jealous jerk and my husband wants to beat you up. But anyway...

Joy cannot be appreciated without understanding and feeling sadness..
nor can contentment really be assessed without pain
Celebrations are so much more festive when something has been overcome , and there is nothing like pride when it outlives humiliation.

My feathers are pretty ruffled now, but let's not forget how sparkly they normally are.

You're just an asshole and there is nothing pretty or sparkly about an anus. Hmmph..

Waiting on Other People TOO Long Makes My Face Go :(

So I'm sitting here waiting for our new breakfast table to be delivered. The furniture people called yesterday and said it'd be between 2-5.

I can't stand that. When I make a Dr. appointment, do I tell them that I'm going to show up between 2 and 5? No, I show up when I freaking say I'm going to or I get bypassed AND charged! Double SUCK!!

If I decide to fly, does the plane wait on me to get there between 2 and 5? No, in fact, your ass better be in that seat with your crap stashed and your seat upright and tray table locked ten minutes before departure time or your plane leaves. And if you make it on the plane, everyone stares at you like you're an A-Hole because you're stashing your crap in a hurry and even though you're in 5C, the only available overhead space is in row 32 and even then you're banging it in. Here are the people you have pissed off so far due to your tardiness (even if it's not your fault)
The Gate Agent who just took your seat away and was about to assign it to someone else
The standby passenger who feels like you robbed them (even though it was your seat) and the 32 other passengers who are on standby as well who don't care that they have no prayer of getting on this flight, it's fun to focus your anger and the Gate Agent is full of prozac and valium. Yelling at her won't matter. Dont ask me how I know.

So then you GET ON the plane, and the flight attendant is glaring at you because you should have been there on time and she doesn't get paid til the door shuts. She knows there's no where to put your bag, but she'll let you go jack around in row 32 because there might be room for one of your mittens there. When you can't smash your bag into the overhead,everyone on the plane is rolling their eyes and now you have pissed off the ramp guy who already shut the plane, he got done all early because he worked efficiently and now you , have cut into his union mandated break time.
Don't you dare voice that opinion though because now the Gate Agent is about to get written up if she doesn't put you on the plane and shut that door it's on her, and if you cop and attitude the flight attendant will remove you and it's too late to put another standby passenger on so if you get upset and the flight attendant feels threatened, is on the rag, or just feels mean (some are like this, not all) then the gate agent has to walk down the jetbridge with you and the standby who was maddogging you is really pisesd now because they know the plane is driving away with an empty seat. You WASTED that seat, you a-HOLE! Meanwhile, the standby decides to get angry with the Gate Agent and she has to call a supervisor, and that takes 20 minutes to diffuse because pissed off airport people are like contained beasts and have nothing else to do but vent, so the Gate Agent gets written up AND misses her break because YOU DID NOT SHOW UP ON TIME

Am I exagerrating? I mean right now, yeah. I'm surprised you even followed me this far, but it's IMPORTANT to be on time. It's rude not to be. So howcome I have to wait until 459 to get my stupid table and I really wanted and planned to be somewhere less fun. OF course the time I count on it being late because it always is, and I duck out from 2-4, I miss the delivery. They can't call me, they leave a note that's polite but it's really telling me shame on me. IF I spent enough money to have something giant delivered don't I get at least a courtesy phone call?

Oh by the way these delivery douches just called now and said they'd be late, which makes me late to the place I wanted to be at by now. Good thing my sweet husband saved the day and is coming home to take the delivery.

I hate late without a phone call. A phone call at the eleventh hour usually doesn't count. IF you were running late all day then you should have informed me.

Ok.

Rant over, now Im gonna go play.

Well, Aren't You a Concerned Bunch?

Well HI! I have had an attitude check and I am feeling much better. Actually remember when I was timing out my little rants that happened like right before my aunt flo came to visit because I swear I have PMDD? Well that actually was my irrational meltdown day, because the next day, guess what!!! SO , even though you're sitting here going, GROSS SHANNON, AGAIN??? I am giving PMDD another point which means I am not crazy, it just means that I have some kind of imbalance and it's not totally my fault. Although I would like to applaud myself because my self control during my little "episodes" is getting a lot better and my rant happened in digital form and no one physically near me got hurt or anything thrown at them and it didn't end with me in a room for 15 minutes bawling and my husband offering wine or chocolate or anything to make it stop.

See? That's improvement!! If you're a new reader, you're going to need to back it up a little and read for some history instead of writing me off as crazy. I mean, I don't know you anyway, so think what you want, and I moderate my comments, so I'm kind of in charge here. YEAH!!
Anyways, my blog is nice and organized and all my crazy blogs are tagged rants, or PMDD, or whatever, so it'll be fun.

Wait give me one more second before I describe what happened this weekend. It's not that funny, but I decided to tell it like it was. I mean it was but...whatever here we go again. So last week, that rant, basically was aimed at a person who wrote me an email from their professional buisness email and then spelled all kinds of crap wrong, calling me unprofessional for not approving my press piece and opinion through them without publishing (uh, what?) in said email , and I completely word-assassinated them and then ended it with "thanks for the delicious cupcake" which was the only thing I liked about the killjoy of an event they attempted. Then I wrote a blog about how stupid they were (leaving out names) and how frustrated I was, and then I deleted it and wrote that I needed an attitude check. So there's that story. Oh, by the way, this really super professional person is claiming they can blacklist me from the industry. Really? You go on ahead with your 17 followers and misspelled emails to the press. That's cute. Because I actually did write a positive press piece because I felt so bad that their abortion of an event was such a joke I actually thought I could be helpful. Wellllll, I pulled that piece from publication so fast I'm pretty sure my laptop spun. I hate you. Don't make me mad, I'm really sweet, honest I am, but I will destroy you digitally if you are an ignorant idiot. It really takes a lot to piss me off. Just don't. Especially at the end of the month, then you're double screwed.

So, that is the recap for the flood of inbox "WTF" I got and the texts regarding why I need an attitude check and please repost the blog. I'm not reposting it, there's your recap, and I'm pretty sure even though I had a right to be angry, I should not have posted a blog so quickly before I calmed down. Thank you for your concern.

Well screw it, this whole blog was donated to that dumb event again when I really wanted to tell you my People of Walmart story. Dammit. Ok that's gonna have to be another blog.

Shannon needs an attitude check.

(lound annoying noise)
This blog has been interrupted by the Shannon Needs An Attitude Check Safety Bureau. This is not a test. The previous blog has been deleted because after further investigation, it has been determined that Shannon is not going to be allowed anywhere near a blog until she has had sufficient sleep, headache relief, and is possibly not on the cusp of another PMDD meltdown. Or is not just acting irrationally for no other reason than she was wired to think she is Queen and those who cross her must be destroyed. And these are just the acceptable forms of TMI that actually make it past the safety committee. Thank you for reading. This concludes this test of the Attitude Check Committee. Shannon will resume her normal blog activity when she can play nice with the other kids.

(loud annoying noise)

If My Dreams Suck, Then What Should I Follow?

It's no secret I've been having sleep problems lately. I pretty much had to stop blogging because I didn't want to bore you all with the "I'm not sleeping again show". I mean, it's on almost every night. So, I'm going to a neurologist Wednesday because I have headaches all the time and this whole thing may be a side effect of the concussion I got back in March that had me in the hospital 5 days. Yeah, that sucked.

I was getting out of the car, and this cat was sitting there. It looked evil. My stepdaughter said cats aren't evil. I disagreed but went to pet it to tell her I was going to test my faith. The cat was nice and fluffy.

Hey stepdaughter! Look! Look at me pet the cat! It' s evil!! They're not even looking. They're crossing the street now. Well hell, I pet an evil cat and risked my life for nothing! I gather up my purse and phone and carry it like a baby so I can run across the street, when I trip on a wire that's supporting a baby tree and sail face first into the street. Cracked my glasses. Cracked my head. BAM. Cats are evil.
I spent 5 days in the hospital and ordered $1000 in candy for the wedding so I could have a candy buffet. I have barely any memory of this. But whatever.

So these headaches and insomnia may have something to do with that concussion.

The other night , I slept but I had a really weird dream. It started out pleasantly, I made my family dinner. It was chicken pot pies and the crust was all nice and flaky and smelled delicious. Everyone was happy. I sat down to eat with them and then when I put my fork in my chicken pot pie, a giant tarantula crawled out. I freaked out and woke up sweating and couldn't go back to sleep. It was awful.

The next day I dreamed I was cooking, and when I went to lift the lid on the pot of water to see if the water was boiling, a thousand tiny spiders swarmed out all over. I woke up again in a cold sweat, unable to go back to sleep.

A few nights later, I didn't dream of spiders. I had a dream that I was swimming in a lake filled with snakes. Eff this!! Now I don't even want to go to sleep! This is insane!!

So I've been kind of cranky lately and I work solid all day long every day. I'm not even taking new clients now, but that's good.

Is it anxiety? Is it the concussion? I have cut down on the caffiene. Internet research also suggests excercise and lots of water. I am NOT willing to take sleeping pills.

So that's what I've been up to. Anyone had any weird dreams lately? I hate spiders. Blah.

Back to work!! Love you!

shann

Sleep Would Be Ideal.

I am so tired, and I am still awake! and it's like 4:25 AM. This is the 5th night out of 7 that this has been going on. I have cut down severely on caffiene and I bounce between totally energetic and exhausted but my brain never slows down. It's dark and quiet and I am not even in the mood to chat or text or communicate with anyone interactively. I mean it feels good to to type this because otherwise I'm just sitting here staring at nothing. Then I spend the entire day dragging. It's crazy. I did take a Trazodone last night and it did knock me out but I had a vivid, long, weird dream and it was so vivid it made me feel mentally worn out when I woke up.

Also there are the migraines that are coming along with the caffiene withdrawal. I have to take excedrine migraine to cure them it's the only thing that works and then WHAM I'm better again for a while until my body wears out and my brain still ticking away. Wondering what I have to do tomorrow, and at what time? My stupid car is still messed up. Do the kids have everything they need for when school starts? When does choir start? Did we get our plane tickets for New York yet? I wonder what I will write about next in the magazine, I wonder if I will be successful, I wonder if blah blah blah blah blah omg BLAH for reals. I just need it to pause. If I just go back to my normal caffiene intake I'd be fine. Everything got out of whack when I cut down and the headaches started. One cup of coffee rather than two pots. One Dr Pepper rather than three. And only one dose of Excedrine Migrain for the headache because it also has caffiene.
Had a pretty scary medical issue this past weekend and one of the neurologists and cardiologists common reccomendations was CUT DOWN ON THE CAFFIENE!!

Anyway, I think I will try a bubble bath with lavendar and some sleepytime tea. If that doesn't work, I guess I'll just surrender and watch pay per view. Good thing it's Friday.

Waah.

I'll Make a Title Later

Good morning!! Ok so I'm just going to tell you right now that this blog is going wherever it wants to. Big shocker, right?

Do you want to hear about what I'm happy about first or what is getting on my nerves? Oh wait, you can't really interact....so I'm going to get the whining over with so that I can wrap it up with a happy note.

Apple is confusing. I think it's a pain in the ass to always have to synch my phone with my laptop because it takes forever and it also pisses me off that I can't share songs with people that live in my house because we have different itunes libraries all on our own laptops. Sure, I know about this home sharing crap but that requires a visit on my laptop to the itunes again and by the time I log into itunes that version is outdated and I gotta wait for a ten minute download which slows the computer down so much that I can't even watch goofy youtube videos to pass the time. And I can't blog either because I'd be like #$@$#@!!!!! GAH!! and it would be full of negative energy and I don't want to ruin your day.

So I got an iPad 2 for my birthday, actually I got two of them but that's another story. So I get the iPad and Im not looking forward to actually putting the content on there because everything I downloaded on my iPhone I actually download directly from the iTunes app. So to get that stuff on my iPad, I gotta transfer it from the phone to the itunes and then from the itunes to the ipad. it's like 300 songs or something and games. whatever, I'm all excited so we set it up to transfer and we get a good game of rock band going, but because I had bronchitis, my throat was painful and scratchy and I got a bad score singing so I decided to quit because if I don't get 98% or higher in expert mode, I just turn it off. Screw that. Go big or go home that's what I say. Well I actually don't say that, I'm already at home. FOCUS!

So it transfers and the iPad 2 works great but now all the songs I downloaded won't work, it just pauses for a second and then skips to a song from back in the day when I didn't know the wifi password and had to use my laptop. SO ANNOYING. And my iPad 2 will play LMFAO but will have a picture of The Arctic Monkey's album. That's not that bad but it's annoying so something is going on with itunes.

I google every question in my head. So I google the problem and I find the tech support forum. Looks like it's a common problem. Great. Wait, they're all speaking in techie. Even the ones that are having the problem are speaking techie and it's pissing me off and it's no help at all because whatever if you know everything then why are you clogging up the support forum? I need someone to speak in tech-idiot terms. There's all these abbreviations. So I finally put together the conclusion after reading all those posts that my itunes version may not have been current, so i updated the phone, updated the software and then synched the phone. Still same probem. So then, I realize oh, I have to make a playlist. F you playlist I just want my $300 iphone and my $700 iPad to work, and I'd also like my $250 iTouch to work too if that's not a big deal. Please. Why is it such a pain to keep everything working. For that much money it should just work. Screw apple. They have bad Karma though because they sent me an extra iPad and it wasn't billed on the credit card. I'm pretty sure it's going to show up though so I'm not getting all crack excited.

Now the good news......I have found an additional way to maximize my free time. PICK UP AND DROP OFF DRY CLEAN SERVICE!! TADA!!! This dude that owns the business came to my door a few weeks ago and dropped off this bag that you just leave outside at a certain time and they come pick it up. Then they drop it back off 2 days later. OMG. Now I don't have to take all husband's fancy banker attire to the dry cleaner. I mean it doesn't take that much time but whatever, probably 30 minutes, getting it together, then getting there, ordering the service, getting home, and then another 30 minutes to pick it back up, drive, and put it away.Plus there is the remembering to get the shirts done, that's the big one for me. I have the worst ADD and I don't medicate that often. And it costs like 2 dollars more. Plus, they gave me my first three cleanings free. Whatwhat?! This is awesome!! So now, I online grocery shop and they bring it to my car. I send out the dry cleaning from my doorstep, and I'm also considering sending out the laundry. You call it lazy, I call it maximizing free time. And by free time I mean free screwing around for your entertainment time. Keeping my big ol twitter going. Those thousands of people will unfollow if you don't talk to them.

I know you dont really know this but I actually profit from doing this. It's work. So now who's a jackass? People pay me to be me. Me. This me.
I love it.

I actually need more free time though because I just got on with a print magazine, comes out every month here in Charlotte, and I have to attend events and photograph and write and it has to be perfectly edited. So maximizing my time is a good idea.

I also am getting requests for more YouTube idiot videos but really? I mean I love that iphone and the ipad has a video on it, but I am theoretically a grownup and numerically also, so I really shouldn't be acting like a teenager. What do you wanna see? I've had rockband requests, karaoke bar requests (I love singing but only in my house so that last one isnt likely) and just more random crap. I only make a video when I feel inspired to. Honestly, I must not be that creative lately. Will take suggestions. Dont be perverted, keep it PG people. Oh, and then there's that "coning" thing. I really need to mature a little...wait..nahh....

Alright well ding the dryer is ready and I love folding warm clothes. I hate it when they're not warm. I think something is wrong with me. Toodles.

ATWTTM!!
xx

Life is a Highway and So I Cut Across the Median and Four Wheeled.

WARNING: This blog is unsure of its point.It may be a waste of time. It meant really well though, but unfortunately, somehow couldn't keep track of where it was going. If this blog entry was a road trip, the driver missed the exit but then got a text on the iphone and subsequently ran over a drunk midget who was pissing on the side of the road. Turns out the midget left a suicide note, and had jumped into the road on purpose so the blog driver went shoe shopping to feel better. We all process grief differently. Oh, the midget is now in stable condition!! Let's send him flowers. I hear those help a hangover.

I'm right here with you shaking my head. Whatever, here's the blog...

I don't like being told what to do. I never have. I don't think anyone really does, but I really have this deep seated issue with following rules. Following the crowd. Minding like a good puppet. I don't know why I push so hard against the flow, but I don't feel like myself if I feel like everyone else.

So of course, that made my life journey a little bumpier than everyone else's. My parents paid obscene amounts of money for me to go high school and then on to college. I use the word "attend" super loosely because I, um, ditched a lot. All the time. More often than not.

I operated on my infallible bullshitting skills and above average intelligence to maintain the GPA I needed to keep my scholarship. It worked out just fine for me, until I realized I freaking hated school.

I hated it. I (loved)hated the fact that I could dart into a lecture hall and sign the attendance sheet, grab the photocopy of notes off the lectern and bolt before the teacher ever got there. I hated the fact that those tests were taken directly from the notes, and they were so stupidly easy that I only had to study an hour before to pass.

I hated the stupid questions and the long lectures. Any time I had something I felt added "something extra" to a research paper, I'd get blasted for going outside the format and I'd have to redo it.

I hated the fact that I actually had to show up for any math class at all. Math is the same, it never changes, it has a formula, you learn it, you execute it, you ask for help once or twice if you don't get it. Why do I have to listen to 10 different people's repetitive questions on a formula that hasn't changed since the last 10 times we went over it. I'd get in trouble for falling asleep. I'd get into trouble for not being there, and I'd piss people off for falling asleep and then when the teacher would wake me up to do a problem, I'd walk up to the board, do it and then nod back off.

Even when I was in kindergarten, I acted this way. My teacher actually tried to put me in special ed because she thought I couldn't write my name and wasn't filling out my phonics books. My mom brought me in, and the teacher demonstrated by asking me to read that word. My mom cut in and had me read an entire paragraph. Then, I wrote it. My teacher was amazed. My mom told me that I said "Why do I have to write my name a bunch of times in a row I already know how to write it once."

So in class, I flat out refused to participate in that bullshit. I knew it was bullshit before I knew what bullshit was.

The teacher decided that I needed to go to gifted instead of special ed. I'd say that was a pretty successful and unique meeting.

Here's my problem...I'm really smart. Really smart. I tend to lack in the common sense department sometimes. I'm very ADD, and I have horrible organization skills and I can't make a decision to save my life.

I'm impulsive and passionate and I have a longer list of personal screwups than almost anyone I know.

I also have lived more than anyone I know. I had the coolest job. I have done the coolest things! I know what it's like to be a cheerleader all the way to college. I know what it's like to be on the radio, I worked for a station for a long time. I also have flown first class more times than the average bear through my experience at the airline.

I was even one of those pageant girls very briefly, except my pageants were of the Little Miss Rodeo Girl Variety,and in addition to all the other components of a beauty pageant, you had to compete on horseback as well. My tiara sat on top of a cowboy hat. And I was too embarrassed to tell anyone I went to school with because I thought myself a preppy. Not a cowgirl. No one ever know that I was in these pageants/competitions until I started showing up in the local papers. In hindsight, I should have been proud I was pageant and horse show royalty, but I was too concerned with cheerleading, boys, and hiding that part of me.

I didn't belong to a certain "group" at school, I wanted to be friends with everyone. Except the wrangler wearing group. They just dressed that way and I never saw anyone of them on the competition circuit, so I never quite figured that one out. I had crushes on the smart boys, not the jocks. I was a nerd-liker.


So where is this blog going, really, I don't know. I think if I were about to head off to college right now, I'd be really freaked out because these kids are of the generation where parents started engineering kids for success. Sometimes that works but what about those black sheep out there like me?

I turned out fine. I had some crazy, scary bumps in the road, but I have more life experience than most people twice my age. However, I think I am one of the last people that was able to scrape by on brains and bullshit.

I really admire the people who had the focus to work hard and get those high paying jobs. I really, really do, and I'm not knocking or judging them. Im envious because focus is something that has always escaped me. I'm fickle. I wanted to do it all. So I did.

These high powered people who "made" it get to travel the world in first class. Check. They live in a gorgeous home with gorgeous kids. Check, I got that too. True love? Oh, my goodness, check. check. check!

I don't know, I'm pretty sure I lost my focus on this blog...you see that's just how I roll, but I hope that the world can embrace the people like me who didn't fit the mold and don't want to. I have learned a lot and I have learned to cope with disaster. Do these perfectly engineered lives have disaster? Does a Harvard education teach distress tolerance? What if your perfectly planned life doesn't work out that way?

I think we're all human and we can all be triggerd to fall apart by something. There are weaknesses in everyone. The ones who had to constantly readjust and roll with punches probably adapt better to crisis though...and in this economy, I think it's really important to teach kids how to cope with all that planning doesn't work out.

I'm just worried about a generation with an instant-gratification and control-freak parent upbringing coping as the economy continues to worsen. These are the kids of the hand sanitizer, politically correct, plastic slide, no more God in school generation. Not only are they going to have to deal with their mistakes later on but the cumulative screwups of generations previous to them. These are the kids that played soccer on teams where everyone got a trophy. Everyone's a winner!

In the real world, everyone is not a winner. And sometimes the winners didn't really follow the proper channels to get there. It's not what you know sometimes, it's who you know. Did school teach me those things? No, they didn't. I was smart enough as a 4 year old kindergartener to realize that putting me in a box was bullshit.

Everyone is not a winner. And if you don't get first, or even a pat in the back at all, you better learn how to put your big kid panties on and deal with it.

Whatever, kids, that's the closest I get to being political and I'm not sure that's even making sense anymore, so I'm gonna hasta la pasta for now and get some rest. I'm still pretty bronchitis-y and I have a big night on Thursday. Love you all the way to the moon!

disclaimer: I would like to apologize for possibly offending drunks, midgets, and the economy. Kind of. Toodles!

I Freaking LOVE Myrtle Beach. For Reallys.

Happy Rainy Freaking Friday, people!

I spent the last few days taking my son and my daughter to Myrtle Beach for some special mommy-baby time. Sometimes they get a little jealous with the blended family thing so it's important tha they get their special individual time. They are on the younger end of the family spectrum so they are still enjoying things like Spongebob Squarepants and toilet humor, while our older two are discovering boys and probably other crap that makes me uncomfortable.

Anyways, the drive out there was fine, there wasn't really any fighting or anything. I picked Myrtle Beach because it's the closest and I've been there before so if my GPS failed, I would still be able to get there and not get lost. Or AS lost as I normally get. Let's be honest, I get lost almost every time I go to uptown Charlotte and I pretty much live there.

I really hate Myrtle Beach. It's beachy and all, but it's the sloppiest, redneckiest, spring-break-on-a-ramen-budgetiest place I've ever been. The view of the water is pretty if you get a nice balcony, but that's about it.

My kids woke me up at 530 am the first morning and I'm not even kidding. It's like Christmas to them to wake up and go picking up shells. I was really cranky about it but they were seriously so cute and happy that I didn't bite their heads off. I just made coffee in the in-room coffee machine (after throwing away moldy rinds from who knows when and scrubbing it so religiously it counted as cardio) and then got dressed.

Myrtle Beach is actually really nice when the sun is coming up. That's because you don't have Maw and Paw and all the chitlins running around and fat teenagers in their berkinis picking wedgies with no regard to who may be watching because they've already had too much moonshine to give a crap.

I have heard it called the "Redneck Riviera". You can get a hotel in Myrtle for like $49 a night as long as you don't mind walking across the street to the ocean and staying in places called "The Gay Dolphin" and "Hurl Rock Motel". Also, it's a bonus if you don't mind bed bugs. That's what I heard anyway on the news last year. Whatever.

I was very picky about my hotel, it took me like 2 hours scrutinizing and trying to find one that knew what wi-fi was and was far enough away from the "Grand Strand" that I could pretend I was somewhere else.

I didn't even really admit on Facebook that I was going to Myrtle, I just said "the beach." Because it's not so much the area that bothers me, it's just the idiots it attracts that bother me.

Anyway, before I start making you wonder why the hell I even bothered to drive up there, I'm just defending it with, it was a beach, I knew how to get there, and I should have known better.

The first thing that happened when we got there, was the kids hopped out of the car and heard an ice cream truck playing Christmas songs (?!) while we were trying to register for our room. So immediately they were like, "Can we have ice cream?" (it was like 9pm) and the little 6 year old says "Is it Christmas? When is Christmas?"

Um, no, we can't have ice cream because we haven't had dinner yet and Christmas is a really long time away. The ten year old says "Aw man I wanted Ice Cream, I felt so happy!" and the 6 yo says "I thought it was Christmas." and then has a really sad face.

Damnit. Thanks a lot Ice Cream truck a-hole for making this trip start off with disappointment. I hate you.

So we get checked into the room and the guy at the desk is nice and he says he's upgraded me to an ocean view room. Turns out Ocean View is like, if you walk out to the corner you can just make out the water.

Dude, I know $150 per night isn't that much to pay in the scheme of things, but for Myrtle Beach, that's like 5 star, so I'm kind of pissed off. I go back to the desk and the kids are upset because they want to swim. We passed 3 pools. It closes at ten and it's nine thirty now and we haven't had dinner. We're ordering pizza. There is no way they can swim. More "AWwwwWWW!!" and sad panda faces. More disappointment. Awesome.

I go back to the front desk, and I make sure to try to be really sweet but I'm really really annoyed.

"Ocean View? Are you kidding with me right now? That's messed up."

Okay, that wasn't sweet at all.

He kinda smirks and looks back at me. He's wearing a Kanye West T-Shirt and he's really white. Immediately I wonder if he thought Kanye was cool for taking away Taylor Swift's microphone or was that douchey? I decided that it didn't matter and realized I forgot my ADD medicine.

Damning myself some more, a lightbulb went off. Kanye West is coming to Greensboro. I have a ticket ninja who can get him an awesome hookup.

"Hey, I can help you score VIP tickets to Kanye if you're going to that show. Can you do a little better with the room?"

Bingo.

VIP is the most awesome word to throw around. It's going to be overused soon because now every club and concert has a VIP area or a VIP ticket, but for now I can capitalize on it because I know people that can sell it to you.

"For reals?" he says "VIP? How do you get VIP tickets?"

"Oh, I promote concerts and work with a distributor. Don't buy regular tickets I can get you tickets that aren't on sale to the public. Just email me if you decide to go and I'll put you in touch with the guy. They're not much more expensive than the regular tickets, you just have to know who to talk to."

"Hells Yeah." he says.

So he tells me he's fixing me up with a suite and it's on the corner and it has two balconies and a fridge and a microwave.

That sounds better.

And before you all get irritated with me and ask me why I just offered to help SELL him tickets, it's not like he comped my room. If he had comped my room completely at a $300 value, I probably would have helped out a little more but I'm not gonna use my personal tickets just to get a slightly more tolerable room in the redneck riviera. Not gonna happen.

Give and take kids. Give and take.

So we get to the room and it's what you'd expect for Myrtle Beach. It's clean enough and it doesn't smell like vomit and smoke. I'm satisfied.

We order pizza and we go to bed. The kids wake me up at 530 am. It wasn't that bad because like I said, it was very quiet and beautiful.
I went on the front balcony, and had a gorgeous view. Then looked out around the corner and saw this.

Awesome. Only in Myrtle Beach would they make sure to save plenty of ocean front property for the trailer park.

See, and you thought I was being mean!!

Whatever, so the first day was okay, we beached it up for the first half, went to the pool til about lunchtime and then got cleaned up to go to the aquarium to see the sharks. My son is obsessed with sharks due to shark week.

We pay $47 to get into Ripley's Aquarium and then realize very quickly that they are probably doubling the allowable amount per the fire marshal. You couldn't walk without stepping on someone. The mermaid show they advertised was in a pool with stingrays in it that didn't look more than 4 feet deep. How were they supposed to dive in that? The shark exhibit had a 2 hour wait. For no great white sharks. For two hours I wanna feed a noisy kid to the shark. Screw THAT.

My kids started getting anxious and claustrophobic so we decided to leave. I bought my son a shark toy and he was happy. I went to customer service and told them that this was horrible. Why would you charge me without telling me I wouldn't see the exhibits without a few hours wait for each one.

"Do What?" said the employee, unmoved by my very unhappy body language

SCREW YOU. I HATE THE SOUTH!! I HATE IT!!

He explains that it's "just a really pawpular turrist 'tractshun, ye kneow?"

NO. No I do not know. I hate when people say "you know" at the end of stuff. Especially with that damn drawl. I do not know. I am not agreeting with you. I hate it even more when they repeat themselves because I didn't agree. I'm not going to agree because it's polite. Screw that. You know what's polite? Not making me pay to be cramped in like some kind of redneck body odor holocaust to see some sharks that can't even kill anything. Shark Week is FREE!! I hate you!!

So, yeah, the Aquarium was fail. They said we could come back the next day, but I decided I'd rather ...just about anything...than subject myself and my kids to THAT.

We decided we wanted ice cream. Not TCBY. Not Frozen Yogurt Shack. FREAKING ICE CREAM. What happened to Baskin Robbins? Let me tell you something people, Frozen Yogurt is going to make your ass just as fat when you put tons of Gummi Worms and Oreos and Hot Tamales on it. Just because you used a strawberry or two does not make it healthy. And do you know what else? They are tricking you into filling up that giant bowl and then charging you by weight. I hate you!!

Wow, I just realized this is going into rant territory. I think I'll mark it appropriately.

So, after our FAIL of an aquarium visit, and FAILed ice cream adventure, we drove back to the hotel because the kids decided to go back to the beach. There is plenty of ice cream places along Ocean Blvd, but you have to park and walk and put up with that circus, so I wasn't even going to consider going to one of those places. So don't message me and tell me about Friendly's. I hate that redneck magnet too.

Let me pause for a second and just point out that by redneck, I mean the people who are inconsiderate, who walk across the street armed with nothing but an alcohol fueled sense of entitlement that says I have to stop for a pedestrian no matter how far I already was into the intersection. If you are more concerned about spilling your beer than watching for a car I am talking to you. If your kids know more cuss words than I do , I'm talking to you. So I admit that I may be unfairly stereotyping. If you are reading this and you are merely from the south and have an accent, then calm down. I'm talking about the a-holes that ruin it for everyone. I'm sorry if you enjoy Myrtle Beach and that BS doesn't bother you.

I hadn't been in a while and I thought I would give it another shot, but clearly, I still hate it.

Ok, back on topic. So, we go to the hotel to get dressed for the beach and as soon as we put our blanket down there is this huge thunder crash. We have about 30 seconds to grab our stuff and go running back to the room. Shoulda seen that coming since storms tend to turn the sky grey, but I really wasn't looking. It happened that fast.

The kids are upset but taking it well. I dont care, I don't want to wash dirt from my hiney again anyway. We get to the elevator and my son bursts into tears because my daughter hit the elevator button first. He wanted to do it.

Oh, for God's sake, fine, you can touch the one in the elevator. He crosses his arms.

The door opens and he kind of slinks in there dragging his feet. My daughter looks at him. "Push the Button!" she yells.

He glares at her. She acts fast.

She slams the button.

My son's face goes from pouting to "O Hell No" in like negative two seconds and he starts stomping.

I WANTED TO PUSH IT!!!!!

Oh my god. Oh my god. It's starting.

He runs to the button panel and slams them all. Now we have to stop on every floor. There are only 6 floors but we're on the top. Dammit.

The kids snipe at each other all the way up and we decide to order pizza again.

Bailey says she has a tickle in her throat.

I decide that's a great reason to give her benadryl. In face, we wouldn't want Eban to get a throat tickle either? How awful right? You better have some benadryl too. BAM!!

By the time the eat their pizza, they're passed out. YAY Benadryl!!

I go to sleep after doing some work the old fashioned way, with a pen and paper (their wi fi doesnt work I HATE YOU!) and then I wake up at 8am. With bug bites all over my legs. There are actually bed bugs in this hotel. FML. I dont want my money back I want to leave. And I dont just have a tickle in my throat, it's full on swollen and I can't even speak.

I can't actually find any bed bugs but where the hell are all these bites coming from? AAUGH!! I wake the kids up, get them packed ,and we get ready to leave. I tell the kids to say goodbye to the beach.

Eban goes to the balcony and yells "SEE YOU LATER BEACHES!!" over it. I start laughing. Bailey has her mouth wide open saying "He said the B word!" and she runs to tell. I have to solemn up and then Eban starts crying.

"I didn't say the B word!! Butt is the B word!" he whispers, woefully.

"MOM EBAN SAID TWO B WORDS!!" Bailey yelled

Now he's crying and she's smug.

Where do I even start?

So, I don't start. I haul them to breakfast and then we get settled for the 3 hour drive home. Which was actually more like 5 because the weather was so stormy it looked like evening all day.

The best part of the drive, though was when they were playing their Nintendo DS's and they're asking me to pick names for the characters. I think i'm really clever and suggest Snot Face for Bailey's riding game. They think this is hilarious, and they name the horse something like Bubble butt. This backfired because the game had a storyboard to it and it constantly referenced SnotFace and Bubble Butt which would send the kids into peals of laughter that lasted at least two hours.

Awesome.

I also have a very fierce cold.

That was my awesome three day vacation to Myrtle Beach . Jealous?

Oh WTF. (TMI ALERT)

Okay, you know what?  This is a rant.  I'm going to caution you right now that if TMI bothers you, then go away. In fact I just added it to the title, so basically if you're still reading and you have a problem with it, you can suck it.

I'm actually glad I'm documenting this right now because I can't tell if my sudden temper problem is due to "my time of the month" coming next week or if i'm geniunely pissed off. (by the way, there was your TMI, and there's probably more)

Right, and next week is my honeymoon so I'm going to be all bloated and comfy during my honeymoon too. And while I'm already grossing you out can I just point out that my original wax appointment was supposed to be Saturday, but I knew I was gonna be "cycling" by then so I changed it to Wednesday. When my Ass-thetician asked me why I rescheduled, I had a few glasses of wine and some pain killers under my belt in anticipation of pure agony so I had no problem telling her that Aunt Flo was coming to visit and I thought it would be gross to get waxed then.  And do you know what she said?  Of course you don't. That's why I'm going to tell you.  She said that people get waxed anyway while they are on the rag.  Are you EFFING KIDDING ME.  Yeah she said one lady was like "Oh, pardon the kite string?" 

That is effiing unbelievable. And you people think I'm shameless. What ever you're still reading this so you're some kind of closet weirdo. What if I got even grosser? Would you still keep reading this? Of course you would because eveyone is a closet weirdo and it's the closet weirdos (the extra jacked up ones) that have a problem with the out and flaming wierdos like myself.  And when the rest of the world embraces my weird, there will be commenters telling me I'm fat, ugly, stupid, lazy, cuss words, et cetera because there are always haters. That's fine.  We're all weirdos. That's why damn reality TV rocked everyone's face off and is here to stay.  So let your freak flag fly if you're not hurting anyone or breaking the law.  That's what I say. It's hard not to judge, but why go out of your way to be a jerk?  That's mean. Don't be a hater.

Just know that being a hater makes you an asshole.  Unless you are hating on assholes.  Then you're ok. And also, one way to know that you're kind of awesome is when you start to collect haters.  So it's really double edged.  That's my lesson to you on hating. 

Glad we covered that.

I actually feel kind of better now.   I'm not even going to say what set me off, except that I lost my mind, dropped an F bomb, yanked the router out of the wall so the kids would have nothing to do but kill each other, whatever, I dont care, and came in here to blog til I stopped being pissed off. And then I realized I didn't know how to put the MF router together or what the password was.  Meanwhile, the kids are scared to death suddenly taking trashes out , there is no fighting, one is encouraging alcohol consumption , another is telling me how pretty I am and another one came up with a list of rules in the house that included quiet time for an hour.  HELLS YEAH!! See, they KNOW.  Is it really necessary for me to lose my freaking shizz over seemingly small stuff for this to happen? I guess so. 

For example, I took them all to Smoothie King.  Smoothie King is yummy but sort of expensive.. When I had to work at United States Air , less my insurance and taxes and other deductions it would have taken me about four hours to earn enough money to buy 5 smoothies.  4 hours of passengers telling me to go to hell, throwing bags at me, expecting me to create nonexistent seats, explaining god-awful policies that I didnt agree with but had to enforce, and coworkers that I wanted to choke out because they were so embarrassingly ghetto.  Four hours of stupid sh*t like, "Hey I need to sit in the exit row, because I have bad knees" or "Hey, I can't sit in the middle cuz I'm claustrophobic" or basically working a whole flight by myself because my derelict coworker still can't figure out how to switch someone's seat.  So of course I am a little irritated when the kids don't even thank me for their damn smoothies until I go on this hostile rant about how much I used to get paid an hour and how many hours it cost to buy the smoothies for you ungrateful people.  They don't get that.  They think I'm a nut at this point.  Because my two are too young to understand the concept of working and the cost of things and his two have been wealthy their whole lives. And kids just don't ever  understand until they are paying their own way.  So whatever . That really did nothing but made me look crazy.

So when we got home, all it took was one rogue comment and I ended up throwing a drink into the sink, splashing kool aid or whatever everywhere, dropping an F bomb and sending kids running for cover.

Obviously I fixed the router, but I had to slam the door and pray to the baby jesus and calgon and try my hardest not to slam wine or have a valium.  I took the whole thing apart and then realized I needed to put it back in the wall and the password is on the sticker.  So yeah, it wasn't that hard, I was just being insane.

So now they're probably polishing the floor and no one is fighting and the middle one is telling me that I'm good enough and smart enough and they love me and asking if I need anytihng , and are you sure you don't want a glass of wine? And  then a present came in the mail.  It was this beautiful BIG picture folio sent by my wedding photographers/paparazzi thanking me for my business. My husband and I look fabulous and I realized that in that photograph I was so happy. 

Just looking at the photographs rekindled my butterflies and made me realize that yes, a blended family is crazy.  Yes, it's hard to deal with kids fighting and their boredom and always coming last when it comes to needs being met but it is worth it.  It is so totally worth it.  I just needed to see the big picture....and when I can't, it's nice to have one mailed and delivered exactly when I need it.  LOL....

Sometimes, I just need a holy shit minute to breathe and get it all out.  Maybe next time I won't throw a smoothie or say the F word, but it's really not worse than what they see on TV or at school.  SOOOO, I'd say that because the house is all clean and shiny, and because I feel better, I guess the message got through and maybe there won't be a next time.  Unless it's because my hormones are f*cking with me.  In that case, I'll meet you here in about 28 days and I'll give you another insane rant about pretty much nothing

All the way to the moon!!!! - S