I've always meant to keep a diary. I've tried. Again and again. There are books all over this house with the first two pages done. I've used spiral notebooks, chunky tablets, composition books and now and then an actual diary.
Never finished a one of 'em.

Now I've got a pc (insert evil grin)...

If I knew someone who could sew well and wanted to make big bucks, I'd tell 'em to go to Hollywood, toot sweet. Because, apparently, In Tinsel Town, they will buy absolutely anything. . . They got wads of cash hangin' from their pores and they go shopping looking like soup kitchen regulars only to get excited about clothing that frankly, hurts my eyes. When I look at the dresses, touted to be by "famous designers" I am convinced that massive quantities of drugs were surely on the menu sometime during the design period. Nothing else can explain the ideas for clothes that make me wanna throw up.

I suppose its too difficult for some of them, to see how clothes and accessories are supposed to well, maybe match somewhat. I'm aware that shock value is high on the list of the young, but from the looks of it, it doesn't really seem to matter to anyone if the public sees them in mini-skirts made of snakeskin with a bra top and fishnet tights. Oh, and of course, a feather boa. Cripes, gimme a break people! Buy some tailored suits, crisp white blouses, soft cardigan sweaters and decent shoes! Oh, and while I'm ranting, do your hair! for cryin' out loud! Good grief, if I see one more starlet with that "just from the shower" sticking out all over, crappy do ...

Okay,I'm done.

I've got a dirty oven calling me...

I'll be back in a bit...
Dear powers that be...Where did my body go? And what is this horrible replacement you've seen fit to bestow upon me? I have leftover material all over the place and I can't see my toes. I am shopping in the "PLUS" section and all of the clothes look super dorky. Is this my reward for years of good service? Couldn't you warn a person?

Somebody around here is putting up chain stores called "Happy Harry's Drugs"...Now I ask you, does that sound right? I don't think sooooo......

Today, I prepared my 8,125th meal as a wife. I'm T I R E D of deciding what goes with what. When you ask the spouse, you hear..."whatever you want, honey"... Then they say "spaghetti, again?" I hope there really is reincarnation. I've definitely decided to be a guy next time. And not one of those namby pamby cooking fellas either. I'm going to get a woman, make her pregnant and steal her shoes. Payback, yeah....

I'll be back in a bit...

Friend of mine had a baby recently. Got me to thinking, it did. The week before the birth, I sent her some helpful tips:


• Do NOT let hubby pack your hospital bag...he WILL find the old nightgown you wore to paint the hall ceiling...
• At the hospital:
• If your doctor orders your punini shaved, and they send you a Candy Striper, grab the razor and lock yourself in the bathroom...
• During labor, when you're dying for a drink of water, and all they offer you are ice chips, remember you're a lady, and strongly resist the urge to smack somebody upside the head....
• When the baby hops out and they wrap baby up, make sure they hand it to YOU and not whisk it away for shipping and handling and testing and oh what the heck, make sure you keep it awhile, then they can have a look at 'em....maybe a quick peek if you're in a really good mood...
• When you want PAIN meds and they say "but you're not due for any right now, Dear"...tell them that if they don't hand over the dope, and right now, you'll call Domino's Pizza and have them delivered all over the ward. Be sure and threaten all available toppings...
• Should you have an episiotomy, and they send in some chick to show you how to "clean" the punini area, tell them you've been cleaning it for years and it doesn't look like you need a college degree to splash on Betadine...
• A very good place for hubby to hide while they're shooing out the Dads, is in the bathroom. They never check and if they might, have him step into the shower and pull the curtain. When they turn out all the lights, he can slip out. Bribing your roommate, should you have one, is easy. Give her a pizza. Or have her hubby hide in the shower with your hubby...
• You should know that in spite of hearing bad, bad things about hospital food, the maternity ward is the ONE place that they serve tasty stuff. Relax, eat and enjoy. They're the last meals you'll have in peace and quiet...
• When they tell you that you'll be released at 10 a.m. or some such nonsense, plan on that being about 1 in the afternoon. These guys have no sense of time and if you expect them to be prompt, you'll just get mad....I can hear 'em down at the nursery..."Golly, did we do the PKU test, Martha?" If it gets too late, go down and mash your entire face up against the nursery window until they comply...if necessary, have hubby join you. Two of these faces are better than one...
• Make sure the house is full of food prior to your release. Hubby will be cooking a lot as you're needed elsewhere and there's no better time to get him in the habit...
• When you get home:
• When the breast milk starts to flow, buy Kotex Super and tape one to each nipple.
• Try and keep at least one blouse free from stains, somebody may actually ask you to a movie.

I sure hope that helped her...

I'll be back later...

Those Orkin People are gonna hear from me. That stupid commercial with the cockroach running around nearly gave me heart failure. I was screaming at the screen and yelling for hubby to get the flyswatter quick! Just for the record, Orkin, that was a sick thing to do...


We're always subjected to famous people's OPINIONS of stuff. Well, now maybe I'd like to hear some people's, like maybe John Wayne or Tom Hanks but invariably there's some guy on tv who's rescued a cat and six kittens from a burning shed and there he is on a sound stage sitting in a comfy chair spouting off on everything from politics to finances. Hey, nobody asks MY opinions! hrmpt! Unsolicited, here they are:

Television: GET cable! Broadcast tv sucks and sitcoms have hit the bottom of the barrel. Life's too short to watch bad tv...

Fashion: Go up in the attic and open the old clothes boxes. You'll save a fortune...

Teenagers: don't have any...

Food: if its in a box, don't buy it...

Bras: get one with 3 hooks in the back and you can't go wrong...

Men: don't get me started...



I wonder about the strangest things...I mean, did Gypsy Rose Lee ever really take it all off? And just how much junk is really floating around in outer space? Could I get hit on the head with a piece of Mir? Hmmm....
Speaking of strange, check these out...

The truly weird...
• Lipstick contains fish scales..ugh!
• You're born with 300 bones, but adults only have 206! Hmmmm...where'd my bones go?
• Thomas Edison was afraid of the dark..(nice going on that light thing, Tom!)
• Slugs have 4 noses (the way my husband passes gas, I'm real glad I'm not a slug)
  I'll be back in a bit...
  
  They say that money can't buy happiness, but who the dickens is "they" anyway? Nuts to you buddy. I'd sure like to get my shot at it. Imagine it...I'd get to pay bills when they actually arrived! I could drive a car that somebody else didn't own before me and run into the ground. There'd be cash for restaurants (I vaguely remember), movies (garsh I miss them), and a "wardrobe" (as compared to my motley collection of clean, but drab and outdated threads... Yeah, one shot, that's all I ask. I'd even be willing to fight off the relatives that come out of the woodwork upon hearing that you've won the lottery. Yeah, I could handle it, just try me...
  
  Well, today I hid from the church ladies again. I'm gonna burn, I just know it. The first two times they came, I answered the door, made conversation, and wished them well. But then, well, I was doing something when they came again (yeah, okay, I admit it, I was on the 'net). And darn it, we never talk about anything new. So, I started hiding out. Their knocks are decreasing in length and I'm taking that as a positive sign. Of what, I have no idea...
  
  I love to treat myself to a good afternoon movie. Invariably when I turn on the tube, the channel hits some whacko talk show and I'm again left wondering why, for the love of Mike, anybody will sit and watch two people, screaming at each other at the top of their lungs. He said/She said. But with gratuitous violence....Chair throwing, face punching, clothes ripping.... and then they bring out his other four lovers...geez people, get a grip...go rent "Grumpy Old Men"...
  
  
  
  
  My girlfriend got one of those talking scales. For the life of me, I can't understand why anyone would want a stupid bathroom appliance to announce to the world what they weigh. I mean, anyone within hearing distance is gonna know just how much I weigh, no way Ho-zay. This secret dies with me...
  
  Dang, only had 30 minutes today to do the 45 minute crunch. You know, where you do all the stuff you were have supposed to have done all day. I'm supposed to have the full 45 minutes, but well, my nap went into overtime. Actually I've become quite proficient in cramming in so much in so little time. My secret? Pine Sol. Yep, just pour 1 quart of warm water in a bucket, throw in some Pine Sol, insert rag, apply rag to as many surfaces as time allows, and voila! Smells like you cleaned all day. If you get caught during the actual "crunch", feign illness. Look busy and sick at the same time that your significant other walks in the door. Collapsing onto floor is an option, but be careful. You will no doubt get sympathy as well as help with the remaining chores. As to that nap business, I'm thinking that a small alarm clock, placed strategically in my lap may be something I should look into. I mean, a gal's gotta get her rest, don't she?
  
  
  
  Well, I finally got Christmas all packed up in boxes again. Gotta make that trip ..er trips to the attic. As I wrapped each ornament in tissue paper, I saved the best for last. It's always on my tree and always will be. Its a plastic margarine tub top covered with construction paper squares and dried glitter. A hole in the top sports a red snippet of yarn for hanging. Yep, you guessed it. My son's first homemade Christmas ornament. Kindergarten present to his Mom. Every year, when I get it out, and again when I put it away, I weep openly. Some things do that to ya...
  
  Besides not discovering a cure for the common cold, I see that scientists have still not figured out this socks in the dryer thing. I mean, come on guys! You put a man on the moon! Can't you figure out why I put two socks in, and only one comes out? I'm getting desperate. Yesterday I had on one purple and one navy blue. The day before it was hot pink and lemon yellow. I don't know where my sock mates are, but wherever they reside, its no doubt colorful...
  
  
  
  Two words guaranteed to strike fear into the hearts of all Americans....Tax Time! Here I sit, sharpened pencils, forms, calculator, scratch pad and Advil. Where's the W-2's? Sitting on a corner of some secretary's desk, no doubt. People, please! Have mercy! Will I break even? Get back a pittance? Gasp..OWE? I hate the waiting. Filing early means getting back the loot early if you're lucky enough. So, this mess sits at the edge of my dining room table. Praying that this will be the day. No such luck. At suppertime, it gets shifted to an empty chair and then later, back to its perch. It sits there, glaring at me. Like I can do something. You know what it is don't you? Greed, just plain greed...
  
  Last Christmas I read that you could stick some flower bulbs in a pot of soil, put 'em on your dining room table, and just add water. Voila! Instant centerpiece! So, I did and they were just georgeous! Amarylis are the best ones. I dried the bulbs. So, this year, in mid December, I put them in some new soil, added water and waited. Up came the green. So pretty. Taller and taller and taller. Finally had to stake 'em. Waited for the blooms. And waited and waited and waited. Holidays came and went. Stupid old green leaves just staring at me. Nyah Nyah! No flowers for you! So, I'm reading Family Circle and there's this article. Guy knows his stuff. I read footnote at bottom: The bulbs you used last year cannot be used this year. Gee thanks....grrrrrr
  
  I am just amazed at all the free stuff on the net. One used to have to buy "do it yourself books". No more, I've found the internet! Among the ones for building a shelf and macrame, the web pages I've found for Do It Yourself include:
  
  Root Canals
  Spanking
  Becoming a Rock Star
  Circumcision
  Hypnotism
  Atomic Bombs
  and a handy, dandy Do It Yourself Cryogenics Kit.
  
  I think some things are just plain best left to the pros...
  
  
  
  
  I'll be back in a bit...
  
  Uh, click down here if you have nothing better to do...
  The Archives
  (Previous rants)
  
  Public Diary of a Mad Housewife ©2001
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Actual unretouched photo
  
  
  

  ---

  
  Proudly featured at:
  ISHOULDBEWORKING DOT COM
  
  

  ---

  
  
  
  Goneaway Lake Productions ©2001
  
  
  Help Them Come Home
  
  
  
  
  

  Powered by counter.bloke.com
  
  

  Is this thing working?...I didn't get the extended warranty