Baring my soul for all to see

There have been so many instances where I ended up naked accidentally.  I know you are thinking to yourself.. how is that possible?  Well you take one accident prone, clumsy, over eager me... and you end up with hundreds of possibilities! There was the time where I went to the doctors and the nurse gave me a paper gown and left.  I understood that I was to get naked and into the gown.  Boy, was I wrong.  I was only suppose to take my shirt off.  Who knew?  Case scenario numero deux, I was trying on Grad dresses in a store located in a mall.  And as with most Grad dresses, this one required no bra and quite a bit of manhandeling to get into.  A few hops later I found out that the dressing room doors are only held shut with magnets and can easily be opened by a half-dressed, tripping girl.  It was just unfortunate that the dressing rooms where next to the window out into the mall.  Being preoccupied, I've gone to the door of the gym with only a shirt on, only to realize with my hand on the door knob leading out that I have no pants on.  Lately, it seems that I can even shame myself in my own home.  I was changing for work and forgot our back alley neighbours where getting their roof fixed.  I wondered why all the noise and talking got a lot louder all of a sudden.  I didn't even realized I'd flashed them until I was standing in the shower.  That's how often I seem to do these things, it doesn't even hit me until after the fact.  
So if you see me, just make sure you are making eye contact, cause God  knows what's goin on down below.

Things I know to be true.

If you get into a line at the supermarket, every other one will go faster than the one you are in.

A dirty house brings more company.


If you run out of underwear and end up wearing a swim suit, you will have to go to the Emergency Room at some point during the day.

A penny saved is a penny less to spend on chocolate.


The washing machine will only quit working when it is full of clothes and water.

You always get your period while camping.


When you finally find a book series that you like to read, you find out the next one isn't coming out for another 2 years.  (seriously?  it's going to take 2 years to write a 200 page book?  Why can't all you authors be like Stephen King and knock them out while in the shower?)

My mother is right only 95% of the time.  The other 5% I gave her the wrong info. 

It's not me... It's you :)

I recently was at a local Cafe having coffee with my best little man D.  Well, I had the coffee, he had the chocolate milk.  When I left I gave the waitress some cash and went out to buckle D into his stroller.  But then I thought... "I don't think I gave her enough money".  I ran back in and asked... "Did that cover the bill?"  And she replied with a snotty "No".  I felt awful.  I asked for the cash back and settled up with my debit card leaving a tip.  I mean for a small coffee and a chocolate milk a 6 dollar bill was kind of steep but whatever.  And the waitress was still snotty to me.  I left feeling like shit.  It took me 5 blocks and lots of inner searching to realize that I did nothing to deserve feeling that bad for.  Did I purposely try to dodge out of a bill?  No.  Was I trying to be a bitch about it?  No.  Did I deserve to be treated like crap because I made a mistake, only to return with in a minute to fix it?  No.  So, this wasn't my problem. So why did I feel so bad?  I think some of us condition ourselves into thinking that if we are upset or mad then it punishes the person who made us that way.  But unfortunately, most times they don't even realize what hell we are going through.  The upset stomach, the feeling of embarrassment and worthlessness.  Some of us are just naturally this way.  Thinking that everybody has to be our friend, that we need to leave a good impression where ever we are.  Don't complain that the food is cold.  Smile when they say it will be 20 more minutes.  Say it's o.k. when someone cuts in front of you at the grocery store.  That's how I grew up, and I'm sure I'm not alone.  But when we inadvertently make a mistake we feel soooo bad.  Why is that?  I think it's mostly a good thing.  It's that inner voice that shows us right from wrong.  And when someone makes us feel bad, we need to zen out a bit, take a breath and think about what happened.  Think about your actions and see if you've done something wrong...we need to ask ourselves... "is it my problem, or theirs?"  And for the most part, I think you'll find it's theirs.   

The Cure of Cursing

I thought I'd start this blog with why I named it what I did.  You see, I have recently started to realize the power of a good curse.  Not to say that I'm not familiar with cursing.  Quite the opposite.  When I was 5 and I dumped my bucket of potatoes on the ground instead of in the cart, "Shit" came out of my mouth.  I never looked back.  However as you get older, you realize that you just can't start throwing the word fuck everywhere.  It's not appropriate.  But I found my haven when I started working in the grown up world.  In the grown up world, people swear all the time.  What a revelation! During my work day, which consisted of me, 5 other guys, a dark room and a bunch of tv's (no, it wasn't porn) the swear words ran like water.  And I learned some creative ways to string some curses together.  My favourite always being something to do with a duck and Jesus.  Don't ask why.  I didn't realize at the time how stress relieving it was to just go off on a tangent like that.  It didn't hurt anyone, and the people in the room had heard a whole lot worse. Then... enter children.  Suddenly you are surrounded by short people and once again swearing is not appropriate.  So you make up new ones... like "pickle" "rats" "dang" "mother chucker".  All of which work in a pinch, but somehow still don't give the good ol' release of a true swear.  I just didn't realize that I still needed that release.  But I'm learning.  Like many parents, I've become a closet swearer.  Doing it under my breath doesn't have the same effect that screaming it would, but it does seem to be better than "pickle".  So once again I've started to embrace the swear word. When your kid drops a full glass of milk on the floor you just washed it's nice to have some kind of release.  I'm not saying I drop the "F" Bomb at the drop of the hat.  But to allow myself the privilege of letting go and saying it under my breath (or in the pantry closet) does have it's medicinal purpose's.  So my theory is, go ahead as long as there are no short people around.  Recently I have since moved on to Mother Fucker as my prefered curse du jour.  Mostly, I enjoy how it rolls off the tongue.  It makes me feel tough like a biker chick that no one wants to mess with, yet is strangely attractive in a certain light.  And sometimes when one curse word isn't enough, two is better.