Most Annoying Week Ever

So, I’m having a crazy week, but yet I refuse to mess up my post-a-day quest over something like a pesky move.  That means the race is on.  Will I get this post up before 12 midnight, SoCal time?  I don’t know.  I’m writing the finishing touches while I sit in a Pollo Loco (Grilled Mexican Chicken Chain Restaurant, for the rest of the world.  If you directly translate Pollo Loco it means “crazy chicken” and that’s just what the feck I am right now, a CRAZY CHICKEN…back to post).  Anyway…***

Feelin' crazy?

*** Full disclosure, I’m finishing this post the next morning.  Yep, I didn’t post yesterday.  I leapt for the departing post-a-day, ferry and fell in the water and almost drowned.  But, thankfully, a dolphin brought me to shore and here I am.  (I think it was the Pollo Loco chicken that swayed him to rescue me.)  I’m not too worried about missing yesterday’s post.  My goal is and was to post everyday for an entire year.  Due to yesterday’s gaffe, it sounds like this project will now be extended one more day.  (He, he.)  I know, I know, big goal, but I’m loving this and that’s the goal I’ve set for myself and I want to hit it.  The terms are 365 posts by hook or by crook.  Now it will be 365 posts in 366 days having missed yesterday.  I want to chronicle of a year’s worth of writing and I want to see what it does to me as a writer.

As for last night, I didn’t put up this post because it just wasn’t there yet.  That’s the other thing – I don’t love everything I put up on here, but I DO work my ass off on my posts whether they hit the money or not.  If it’s not there, if it’s not up to those checked and cross checked and creativity-tapped standards, well, then, it waits.  So, last night it waited.  But, by the end of my coffee today, it will be at an acceptable, publish-worthy level – this I know.

Anyway, things are nuts.  And if you think I’m not reading the comments section, you are dead wrong.  I read them while I’m in bed, making breakfast, and petting the dog.  I even read them when I’m on the toilet.  (Sorry, but I do.)  The community that reads this Sweet Mother blog is so wonderful, I wouldn’t miss a day of it for the world.  It’s honestly the best online community I’ve ever experienced and I’ve tried out a few others.  I’m grateful for you guys.  Seriously.  Grateful.  So many of you left wonderful comments to Thursday’s “Offline Connections” post and still I haven’t had a minute to respond to them all yet.  But, I have read them.

Now, in particular, Ms. Cristy left me a wonderful comment to Thursday’s post.  It was thoughtful and sweet and dead on.  The gist of what she said was – “don’t try to be a Katie if you’re not a Katie.”  (For people who didn’t read the piece – Katie was an old co-worker of mine.  She was a charismatic master of office and people politics, sort of like a Bill Clinton without the fellatio.)  Katie could work a room like Oprah at an OBGYN clinic.  She was that good.  I want (wanted?) to be like that.  But, then Cristy said – “you just might be one of those people who other people either love or hate because you feel what you say and say what you mean.”  Now, I’m paraphrasing, but it was something like that and it hit home.  She was dead right.  I’ve always been a highly annoyed person with a big heart.  I can see myself at 5 years old watching some other mental patient at my Catholic school kindergarten eating crayons.  He finishes all 64 colors and then cries because he ran out.  I can see Mini-me.  Mini-me would shake her head at my peer’s insanity and then selflessly handed him my box of crayons because even at 5, I knew, just knew, that it was the only thing that made this little, crazy, feck happy.  Screw it, give him the crayons.  We’ll deal with the perforated bowel later.

So, in heeding Cristy’s advice to be my godderm self, I’m going to take a page from VH1‘s Best Week Ever, but tweak it and make it my own.  Let’s just call it…

Most Annoying Week Ever

In one form or another I saw a glimpse of these things in my periphery as I went about my crazy life this week.  Picture a cyclone going about her business, but at the same time noting, “What the feck is that?” as she moves from one project to the next.  All these things annoyed me.  Here they are.

My Strange Addiction – This is a show on the Discovery Health channel.  I only saw the promo.  Seeing the promo was enough.  On My Strange Addictions, there’s a guy who makes-out with his car, a girl who drinks nail polish, a woman who digs into her ear with a pair of scissors, and other such nonsense.  Apparently, these fine specimens are addicted to these practices.  I’d like to add my talents to the roster for this show.  Just call me, “the girl who will slap the shit out of you if you make-out with your car, drink nail polish, or do anything else annoying, etc.”  However, I’m not going to do a goddamn thing if you dig in your ear with a scissors.  I’m going to let the scissors pierce your eardrum and then I’m going to let the searing pain do the tsk-tsk-ing for me.  Sometimes you have to let the dumbass stick the fork in the socket.  This is how evolution happens.

I find death annoying.  You mean I’m supposed to work this hard and then die?  You’ve got to be feckin’ kidding me.

Hoarders – Dear Hoarders, let me solve your problem.  THROW YOUR SHIT OUT.  Stop it.  Bathe your kid and take out the trash.  And stop wasting high definition space with your garbage.  Literally.

Samantha Brick Daily Mail Piece – Okay, synopsis – there’s this British chickie who wrote a piece in the Daily Mail where she says and I’m paraphrasing, “Other women hate me because I’m beautiful.  It’s so hard for me to go through the world because other woman see me and my gorgeousness and they can’t help, but cut me down to size.  They are jealous, envious, vagina-carriers, and they will not let me succeed.”  Let me work on this for a second — Okay I’ve got it – here’s my statement, “Samantha, women don’t hate you because you’re beautiful they hate you because you’re an a-hole.  Any woman who goes around talking about the incredibly hard time she has because she’s so pretty needs to shut the feck up and definitely not write for a paper.  Honestly, keep your thoughts to yourself because my vagina cried when you tromped out this tired conversation again.  Now, since you’ve naturally taken my advice and are soon to give your two weeks notice at the Daily Mail, here’s my suggestion for what to do with your free time — Why not whore it up?  I mean really, anything else would be such a waste of something that is sooooooo pretty.”  She-sus!!  (Like Jesus, but a lady.  And I don’t hate her either.)

Pregnant in Prison – Really, like children don’t have enough problems?  They have to deal with texting, bullying, and morbid obesity due to the excessive fun-ness of video games, and now, now…your jailbird mom?!!  Good god.  What’s next?  Dance Moms?  Oh, yeah, that’s already happening…

Is that black spot on my dog, just a black spot on my dog, or is it my perfectly placed hair dye?  I was dying my hair black the other night when my frenchie walked into the room and then walked out.  This is my only clue to the crime and it is haunting me.  Now, like a murderer whose guilt is making her clean and re-clean a a bleached white, spotless, floor because her conscious is dirty, I can’t stop staring at this feckin’ spot on my dog’s fur.  To quote Macbeth, “Out, OUT, damned spot!”  I have been saying this for days, “out, out, damned spot!” but I have yet to actually wash the dog.

Is it my fault or genetics? I'm so tired...

Weight Gain
Thanks for making food delicious, She-sus!  (Like Jesus, but a lady…I can’t stop.)  And now you want me NOT to eat it?  Here’s a tip, Lady She-sus and God, you should’ve made those apples in the garden taste like dirt.  But, you didn’t, now, did you?  I hope heaven is filled with fat people, so you can see what you have done.

All Vaginal Issues
Apparently, if you do not push a baby out your vag by the time you approach 40 nature will give you a series of things that you’ll need to clear out of there.  It seems that when you don’t use that storage area for life-growth, god likes to turn it into a warehouse for his bric-a-brac collection.  At least that’s what it feels like every time Wifesy and I have a doctor’s appointment.

Just put that anywhere. There? Really?

Automobile Ownership and All of Fecken’ America Being Built Around the Car
Someone asked me the other day, “If I were a superhero, what would I want my superpower to be?”  I immediately said, “Flight.”  I want to fly.  And I realized I ONLY want to fly so I can avoid purchasing a goddermned car.  I mean, COME ON.  It sucks and it breaks and you have to insure it and there has got to be a better way.  But, not in LA, oh, no, not in LA.

Lying to Doctors
Wifesy lied to her doctor about the amount she works out.  And because of that lie, I was subjected to working out with her several times this week.  Thanks, medical questionnaire!  Now I can’t feel my calves.

And that concludes this annoyance rant-post.  Please comment, if you so desire, as your comments NEVER annoy me.  I relish them.  Sweet Mother is updated daily.  If you’d like to follow this blog, you can do so by clicking the “follow” button at the top of the page.  If you’d like SOME MORE, please check out the archives section.


Photo creds:  bric-a-brac, pollo loco


63 thoughts on “Most Annoying Week Ever

  1. SM,
    I think Sara watched a few episodes of My Sick Addiction… And loved it… In a very sick way. We don’t talk about it much at home… As I don’t know what it really says about her (you’re awesome my love, of course).
    Glad to read you again. Your eternally long posts were missed yesterday, and I had to cater to my kids as I had nothing else to do.
    Le Clown

    1. lol. i made this one DOUBLY long to make up for yesterday… 😉 do they call it, ‘my sick addiction’ over there because here it’s ‘my strange addiction’. i point that out only because i think it’s hilarious when they slightly change one word in programming from one country to the next…i.e. here that survival show was ‘man vs. wild’, in britain same show, ‘born survivor’. here ‘locked up abroad’, there ‘banged up abroad’. very strange and enjoyable. i missed you guys yesterday too…reader profiles starting tomorrow! the first one, anyway… xoxo, me

      1. Sm,
        My bad… It is called Strange Addiction here… Interesting freudian slip on my part… My mind has been all over the place this week. I wrote a post on my son called The Whispering Petunia… But kept on referring to him as The White Petunia in the core text… SLLLEEEEPPP wanted…
        Le Clown

      1. i like watching too…but, i think i do it the way rubber neckers watch an accident and that just fecks up the whole flow of everything… ;0

  2. I’ve watched a couple of episodes of My Strange Addiction and Hoarders. I didn’t say I was proud of that fact. And now my husband and I watch Doomsday Preppers. Not sure if I’m proud yet….will keep the world posted.

    1. doomsday preppers, eh? i read an article about that… too funny. i wonder if those people were all y2k ppl too….nuuuuuts! but, sometimes i love watching nuts, so i totes get it. xo, moms

      1. They are nuts. We have a small box of stuff we might need in a Katrina/blackout situation, but some people dedicate their whole lives to it. We just watched an episode where the whole family ate bugs. ALL THE TIME. Even the kids. As practice. You should check it out. Nuts galore.

  3. Hi Momma,
    Missed you yesterday! I had a few most annoying week ever moments myself. I’m right there with you. I didn’t hair dye my dog but I did accidentally scare the bejesus out of my son which resulted in 10min of consolling a hysterical child, dealing with a grade 10 Jewish guilt trip from my dad (I’ve had long debates as to which is worse, Jewish guilt or catholic guilt), and various other annoyances. I’m going to go climb into bed now and hope for 4 hours of uninterrupted sleep.

    Thanks for a fabulous post we won’t hold it stainst you that it is late.

    1. oh, bethy, perhaps, it’s a judeo-christian guilt sort of thing. i think i have and give out both – one involves jesus, the other brisket. both effective, yet infuriating! lol. get some sleep, sweet lady. i just took a bath in baking soda, next stop for me – assisted living for seniors. hey, maybe they’ll be a blogger-night… 😉 how in the hell did you scare your son? i smell a post with that one… anyway, to bed with you! momma

  4. Hahahaha, it was fun to read (: Your story made me read all the way to the end. 🙂 I’ve a submission due in two days and everyday I’m more messed up than the last one, but blogging makes things more simpler. A few days ago I read another blog where blogging is depicted as a cure for many things. 🙂 I hope you are feeling better after ranting about everything that was badgering you. Cheers!

  5. Samantha Brick doesn’t really exist. It was actually me who wrote that article 😉 I wore a blonde wig to the interview with Eamonn Holmes and Ruth. Women hate me, men hate me, everyone hates me because I’m so beautiful. In fact, James Blunt wrote “You’re Beautiful” after catching a glimpse of me in a cab. Even photogenic marathon guy copied my look!
    Yes, I’m one of those people that other people either love or hate, but mostly hate.

  6. I concur with the sections about death and weight gain. The apples shouldn’t have been made to taste so good. I’ve had to give up cheese and wine the last couple of weeks so I could have an ounce of hope that I will be able to breathe in my wedding dress. I am going to make myself a cheese feast when this is over.

      1. i have a gay male friend who became a meth addict. he DID get thinner, but if you ask me it was too, matthew modine in the “machinist’. too much, too thin. i mean, if kate moss sits on a whoopi cushion, does anyone get the joke? bwwwwaaaaahhhh. i’ve been dying to use that one. 😉

    1. major cheese party after that, major cheese party. i love that you love cheese. i don’t want to know people who don’t understand good cheese. cheese and wine, can’t get enough! lol. i’m upping the salads. they don’t taste as good as cheese. i can assure you. – mother

      1. Agree! (This coming from moi, who just had brie on oatcake and fois gras on mini-toasts for breakfast.) Yes, I will be on that treadmill later … it’s worth it! There’s a reason why the saying is not “Skinny and happy”. Live on!

  7. Now that you’re in L.A. are you going to turn into a cheerful, vegan, hybrid-driving, spray tanned housewife of Beverly Hills?
    I’m not sure I approve of this transformation.

    1. we’re not in la just yet. we’re trying to land a pad and fighting over the location. lol. the location and the pool. champagne problems, really. and nope, i plan to become one of those chic power couple lesbians though. i wear a mean ladies suit with heels, and heavy on the cleav. that’s cleavage for short. xo – lady-mother

  8. I don’t remember how I ended up on your blog ..that was a week ago and I have been a faithful reader since. Awesome!!

  9. are back… yesterday evening i was telling my friend about how awesome your posts are…

    i read some headlines about a woman writing about herself being the prettiest thing on the planet… but didn’t get time to check out the whole article on that… now i know 🙂

    i can picture Samantha waking up in morning and telling her lover…
    “honey look at me i wake up with the most sexy yawn…see my hair look just like i combed them at night…and my face is even prettier than yesterday..”
    whoosh! the lover jumps out of the window.. 😉

    1. dear little miss, i’m not going to lie, who wouldn’t love you telling her friend about my awesomeness? so, i liked that. ok, i loved it. 😉 yeah, that samantha thing is crazy and her lover should shoot himself, she sounds cray-cray. xo, moms

  10. I saw that My Addiction about the scissors in the ears and it made me take scissors to my eyes. And then some lady was mean to me, and I was like “B*tch you’re just jealous because I look good with the blood and bits of eyeball streaming down my face.” I was so ticked I wrote an article titled “There are downsides to being this pretty because you stabbed out your eyes with scissors.” I’m waiting for my book deal.

    Glad you’re back, and you’re right on about death being lamesville.

    1. ok, 7, did you really write that post? because if you really wrote it, i must read it. death is so lamesville. worse than john waters’s ‘crybaby’ and i hated that film. lol. – mo

  11. Okay, Momma Girl, I love your posts and all, but you won’t be much use to us if you keel over and fall into a blog-overload coma! If you need to respond to comments on the toilet, then I worry you aren’t taking the needed time to yourself. You don’t want to start peeing letters, after all. So first and foremost, keep yourself healthy. If you miss a day of posting, we will all be here for the next one. 🙂

    1. whaaaaaat? you mean reading posts on the toilet is too much? lol. you are right and sometimes even a mother needs a mother. i’m watching meself, i promise. and who knows, i may miss a post or two, but i’m gonna try not to. xo, sm

  12. Moving? Moved? SoCal? LA? Am I getting close to guessing the numbered address? Or do I wander around the asphalt desert for…what…?? forty days and nights? Years? Camps over SM and you promised me chocolate cake with icing. Waiting…

    PS. whisper in your own ear sans scissors: Rome wasn’t built in a day…..

    1. jots, we’ve put the water outside — for it will be very hot as you walk through the desert — and you should smell the cake wafting through the window… we welcome your arrival. we’ve put all the sharp objects away. 😉 mother

  13. I know this was your rant space Mum but could I add just one little thing that I hate? Yes? Bless you 😀

    Ok, I loathe putting out the rubbish. I know it has to be done but between recycling, composting and carefully choosing what bits I can feed my worm farm, I have a total of six bins of various sizes cluttering up my kitchen and each and every one of those bins have to be emptied at least twice a week or the smell is atrocious.

    And then, once a week I have to check my special calendar to find out which 2 of my 3 council approved big bins can be taken out this week. This is because the green bin goes out every week but the red and yellow bins are only picked up once every two weeks… -cries-…But the misery doesn’t end there; those 2 bins then have to be wheeled out to the street in the dead of night because it’s Sunday and I always forget that Sunday is bin night.

    Oh god I feel so much better now. Thank you!

    1. hey ac, up in pacific northwest, cow country, where wifesy’s family is from, when we take the bins out…one of us sits in the back of the truck bed with the gate down and holds the bin while the other person drives it down to the front because it’s several acres. it’s like an amusement park ride and taking out the trash all at once. i always ask my in-laws if i can take out the trash there bc it’s fuuuun! otherwise, i agree with you. out garbage fills up way too much around here (i wish we consumed less…at least less packaging. we try, but often fail) and i feel like i’m constantly changing it. but, i’d rather that then become one of those hoarders! do you have that awful program there? xo, mother

      1. Hoarders? Not sure what that is. Do they fill up their rooms with cardboard and string in case the apocalypse…oh wait, sorry that was my Mum and Dad 😦

  14. You hit the nail on the head with the Samantha Brick headcase. Clearly, she ran out of ideas to write about and literally pulled one out of her super gorgeous photogenic arse.

    1. seriously, winn, seriously. i didn’t even delve too far into that one because i was like, ‘you know what, i really don’t have time for this nonsense AGAIN’ I refused to waste energy on it. it’s so trite and silly. i mean get over yourself, samantha, get over your pretty self! xo, me

    1. having a superpower and then having it taken away, just might be worse then having healthcare and having it taken away. i’m not sure, but i’m guessing it could be… lol… glad you liked the ‘reggie’ piece, so fun to write. xo, momma

    1. could be…but, since i don’t see any blogging police around here waiting to arrest me and enforce that rule, i’ll probably just play by my own provisos…or extend my project one more day. after all, i’ve put an enormous amount of work into this — so it’s best that this queen sets her own standards. but, thanks for playing, nice lady. – sweet mother

  15. When I see Hoarders I wonder why they don’t just turn it into one of those shows where they send a family away for a few days on some sort of pretext and then do up their house while they are gone.

    In the case of the hoarders though, they could send them off and then film all of the concerned family as they throw molotov cocktails into the house full of junk. They might be a little upset at coming home to a smoking hole in the ground but hey, no junk!

    As for that woman that is so horribly beautiful that her whole life is a struggle, we should really just feel sorry for her. Clearly she has her head so far up her own arse it is blocking her view of reality. I mean, she could have written about world peace or helping the starving millions but instead she had her finger on the pulse of what really matters. Why life is so hard for her.

    She could come and stay with me until the furore dies down, the poor pet. I can guarantee that she will be complaining about other far more horrible things by the time she leaves.

    1. metan, you always make me laugh. yes, i think we could both teach that lady a thing or two. what a terror she is. and i’m with you on the hoarders, send them to disneyland, bulldoze the house, and start all over again. then re-admit them to said house with a high dose of meds and therapy. ay yay yay. xo, sm

  16. I’m so happy to find another soul out there who is not into reality tv. I work at a makeup store and constantly hear my coworkers talking about the Kardashians and whatnot with me bored and a bit confused. Thanks for telling it like it is Sweet Mother!

    1. oh, i can’t stand it… can’t stand it. i like the ones (sometimes) that show real ability like ‘top chef’ — but, even that, they make false drama out of it and it drives me cray cray. xo, sm

  17. I so hear you on the death thing! I’m always thinking, by the time I reach my freaking goals, it’s going to be time to die already!

    Completely unrelated but entirely relevant–one of my favorite dishes when I lived in NYC was called Pollo Borracho (drunk chicken).

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