A New Holiday

Well, my friends, in 10 minutes my husband will be officially working without a contract. Tomorrow by 11 AM we will know if a strike is on or off. This is my first experience with such an interesting scenario. I've never experienced all that is "strike duty," so I have decided to be a glass-is-half-full type of gal and create a new holiday: New Contract's Eve (or in a pessimistic view Pickett Sign Eve). This evening is filled with all the excitement of Christmas Eve. Seriously. Strange, right? The only difference is that under the tree tomorrow we will see if we have received a better gift than that of yore or if we will delay accepting gifts until we think we can get better ones. I guess it's sort of like a lively version of "rob your neighbor," that irritating game everyone plays on the holidays with really lame gifts.

I think my letter to the holiday patron saint would read something like this:

Dear Contract Issuer,
First I want to say thank you for giving my hubby lots of overtime this year. He's been really good, and I know you liked paying out all the time and a half. Secondly, I would like to ask for the following:
1) Health insurance that either a) isn't totally worthless; or b) has the option to upgrade;
2) An increase for inflation (hey, everyone else whines for one); and
3) Some sort of assurance that hubby will have a job for at least another 2 years.
There are some cookies for you at the union hall. If you can meet the above requirements, please eat the cookies on the BLUE PLATE ONLY. If you cannot meet the above requirements, eat the "extra-special" cookies on the RED PLATE and leave the blue plate cookies for all the families who will have to live on strike allowance until the staring contest is won at the bargaining table.
Regards,
Mom of the Year

I'm actually not really that worried about this, but it does make for interesting blog fodder. Well, it's interesting to me, I guess because I've never really understood all the union stuff I saw on the news before and how people got all worked up and what not. We are fortunate that I am at home and if the worst were to happen, I'm degreed-up and can go back to my old company like yesterday. We also have people around us who won't let our lives go sour on this thing. So, we're kind of win-win. I'm not so concerned about us, but living through this thing with the auto market in its current state makes me feel for all of those people who don't have other viable work opportunities. I guess some could go off on a tangent here about the "tough shit," "create your own opportunities," or "you knew this going in" sentiments. The truth of it is that all of this has really opened my eyes to a way of real American life that I didn't really understand before. So if all else fails, I can chalk this one up as a valuable learning experience. The heart of the matter is we're all just people trying to get through life the best we can, white collar or blue. And the economy can't survive without either set of folks being employed and profitable.

Well, that was heavy and shitty, so I'll start a new post above for something more fun!

Sexual Healing

Awwww, yeah, baby. I've been inspired by my blogger friend Swistle to post this piece (of shit). It seems that many a mom is suffering through some sort of sexual, uh, inefficiency on the home front. Be it an over-driven husband, and under-horny one, or some sort of don't-you-dare-touch-me-with-your-fucking-eyes wife issue, we're all sort of there at some point or another. I'm not sure of one blanket solution for everyone, but I think I had an epiphany tonight about mine. Are you ready?

Back in my BC (before child) life, I was a corporate bitch-handler like most of you out there. A lot of my hours were spent handling business by phone. On dozens of occasions (literally), I had multiple clients of mine allude to the fact that I apparently have the perfect voice for phone sex. Do you see where I'm going with this? Funny thing is, I worked in the science industry with high-academic types or salesmen, yet they all had this same weird notion. So, I think I should start a 900 number. Extra cash, horny guys, PROBLEMS ALL SOLVED! Well, that would be assuming that I had the client list of the Hollywood Madam. I don't do the underlings.

Oh, and I'm not serious about that, but it is pretty entertaining.

On my own home front, the Chrysler strike deadline is Wednesday morning. So, for those of you who want to send a letter of support, please address it to your local Congressman/woman and tell them to fuck off if they voted for NAFTA, thank you very much. I'm not bitter or anything, nor am I all hot-under-the-blue-collar for the UAW. I just don't like this crap.

Well, that's all better. More bullshit later...

October in The Lou

OK, for those of you who don't know me, I am a true lover of my hometown. There is no other place I'd rather live than St. Louis. I am a full-blooded St. Louisan. This city is totally great. Well, most of the year anyway. Why I might consider buying a house in which to vacation: THE FUCKING WEATHER SYSTEM. I don't know what it is about a city nestled between two big rivers, but our weather is totally jacked up. It's fucking October and the bank on the corner just blurted out in big lights that the current temp is 95! What the hell is this? Also, for those of you who have not experienced the joy of St. Louis humidity, let me just tell you that you need the sharpest knife in the world to cut through it on hot days. Texas, Florida, Georgia - you've got NOTHING on us. I'm actually pissed about it because the run/walk thing has been going so well and now I have a day that makes me want to die the second I step out my front door. So I think I'm going to try and suck it up for at least a mile and see what happens. If I don't make it back, SY will have to follow through on our solemn pact and remove "certain unmentionables" from a drawer in a nightstand lest my whole family find out some things they really shouldn't know while divvying up my personal property. Maybe that's TMI. Oh well. Everyone's a freak. I'm out the door. We'll see how it goes.

Addendum: I just read bananafana's blog for today and she is pissed about the same thing...

Variations on Rejection

Thanks to all who commented last time on my pathetic excuse for a sickness. Apparently, I was not terribly ill as I walked about 3 miles today and managed to get some hausfrau joy spread about this place. The eye-boogers are at bay for Little Diva, and the cleaning fairy has swept away the crustiness. Ahhhhh.

Anyway, I had the joy of hanging out with my younger sis this evening over a salad bar and some mini-burgers at Ruby Tuesday. YUM! I'm not sure how I justify eating burgers with fried onion rings and cheese on them after a healthy salad, but OH FUCKING WELL. During our banter across the table, my sis declared she has three requirements that her latest conquest of the mid-twenty-something dating scene has failed to meet. They are as follows:

1) must not drive a truck;
2) must attempt to purchase at least one beverage for her during an evening out; and
3) must love Cardinal baseball.

I concur with her that all of these are completely reasonable (especially if you live in The Lou - baseball fans aren't hard to find). And yet, this latest dating specimen could not at the very least handle number 2 above, which to me is a total given. So this places F firmly in the "let's be friends" category. This type of stuff makes me happy I am married...

Moving on. I received my first official publishing rejection in the mail today. Don't cry for me - I was counting on it. Now at least I have something to put in my writing file other than a shitload of papers with rough drafts and ramblings scrawled about them. On the glass-is-half-full front, somebody read my stuff! On the half-empty end, they didn't like it. Either way, I'm happy to have made the first attempt at a career change, which no doubt will continue until a mid-life crisis, at which point I will develop psychological fugue and end up somewhere in Montana wearing a paper bag while singing the hits of 1992. SO much to look forward to...

Let's play best/worst for today, OK?

Best: got a publisher to reply
Worst: got a publisher rejection

So it all shakes even and makes today pretty damn normal. How about you all? What's your best/worst for today???

Me (sick) = Shit Hitting Fan

Please allow me to wallow in self-pity for a moment. I think one of the worst things about feeling less-than-well is when everyone else in the house continues on the "mom can hack it" continuum. I managed to make roasted chicken and taters for lunch without a side of barf while my loving husband sat and started at me from the kitchen table. Apparently, dinner from my sick-ass is still desirable above his usual self-made Ramen noodles. (For the record, I wasn't barfing, but was having the I'm dizzy-and-nauseous thing going on). I hadn't really told him I was completely awful, but for the love of all things holy, I wasn't standing up straight! And for all you free-thinkers, no I am definitely not pregnant...

Meanwhile, Little Diva has some sort of eye-booger action happening and it doesn't appear to be pink eye... but it could be. Of course, it is accompanied by some sort of cough and snot thing, so perhaps the congestion has just found a new outlet through her eye sockets. Until this point, we'd had a pretty good couple of years as a mainly snot-free zone, in which I greatly reveled.

Remember how I said weeks ago that we'd need ass pads to get through parenting? Well, I guess now I need mine, not only to protect my ass from Mother Nature's foot, but also because I want to sit down and EVERYTHING IN MY HOUSE IS COATED WITH A LAYER OF SNOT!

I'm going to bed (again). And when I awake in the morning, *poof* my house magically will be clean and I will be the poster child of wellness.

Carry on.

The Funniest Video EVER

Since swearing is hilarious, please check out this commercial, which totally cracks my ass up every time I watch it...

Where the hell have I been?

Well, holy crap kabob - it's already Monday! And just where have I been, young lady, you ask? WHERE? For the love of God, why have I not been here to add to the insanity of your day? The truth is that my life has been disproportionally calm compared to the usual daily chaos of yours truly. But I suppose I could entertain with a snippet or two until the next piece of shit hits the fan and I have something fun to post about. So here goes...

LAME SNIPPET 1: Since finally removing my head from the last millennium, I've purchased an MP3 player in order to bring back that "athletic" side of me I once so treasured. I don't know what was worse - not running at all or running with a discman. I've started walking and running again and thanks to technology AM NO LONGER BORED TO TEARS WHILE DOING SO. Now I've got the tunes, but I'm in desperate need of RUNNING SHOE recommendations. For those of you who run or (dear GOD) power walk, what would be your rec? I've always been an Adidas girl, but I've heard some good things from a few marathoners about Asics as well. New Balance does not do anything other than look cute on my feet (which I'd be willing to deal with so long as they were cute enough to detract my HOT neighbor from my fat flapping ass/thighs/oh-hell-anything-from-the-waist-down). Overpronaters, what do you suggest? Comment away!!!

LAME SNIPPET 2: I hate long honkers. I was sitting in position as the second car at a stoplight yesterday. The light changed and it took the car in front of the guy to my left a second to get his foot on the gas. Then, for like 8 hours, the guy to my left was laying on his horn. I think there should be an auto-off switch for people who honk longer than four seconds. Seriously, four seconds is a long honk. Now I like a good honk as much as the next girl, but come on, people. If it's that bad, get out of your car at the next light, walk up to the offender's car, tap on his window, yell F*** YOU, and call it a day.

THE END