My greatest fear of growing older, other than dying on my toilet, is smelling like cat piss.
Do you ever cocktails during the week? Do you ever have cocktails during the week with your husband and discuss random shit? Do you ever have cocktails and start talking about blogging with your husband? Does he listen or walk away wondering what exactly is this stupid hobby where you talk about absolutely nothing and yet, deep crap? Do you ever have cocktails with your husband and then discuss another way to suck time out of your life because it sounds fun? Do you ever watch reality t.v.? Do you ever have cocktails and watch reality t.v.? Do you ever think you have the most brilliant idea during these said cocktail sessions and then when dawn’s light smacks you in your head, you realize those brilliant and fantastical ideas are just bunch stupid shit?
Yea, me neither.
Part of the cockamamie tipsy idea “from a friend who sometimes does those things above” was about making this site devoted to train wrecks. Renaming it “Bitch, please” and in turn dissect those train wrecks you see coming at you every day. Family, carpool, reality t.v. and maybe actual train wrecks if you are into that sort of sick thing. I mean, I seriously log in a shit-ton of hours watching stupid t.v. and talking to stupid people. I have a ton of knowledge in this area to share with the world.
Maybe I should just stick with posting random pictures full of sarcastic one-liners. It requires a lot less energy than actually thinking about feelings and words and stuff.
I am a klutz. I can drop a plate standing perfectly stone-ass still. I can also drool without any food or drink inhabiting my mouth so my handling issues should come as no surprise to many.
“This one time in drink camp,” I tried to forewarn my friend of my relationship gone wrong with glassware. She didn’t listen to me and continued to make me use a crystal wine glass. MADE ME, I tell you! All evening, I lovingly caressed the crystal glass and sighed a breath of relief in my pursuit of keeping the goblet free from harm. When the evening ended, I exclaimed with pride “Look, I didn’t break your glass! I’ve accomplished something that only Olympians in my sport have!” with all the pride of an agile student. I think I relished in my feat too soon. During the final moment of completing the final landing, the glass snapped at the stem and shattered.
As usual because I am always apologizing for something I said or did, my mortified self apologized profusely from my accident. “OH, MY! I’ll replace it! Was it Mikasa? or a hopefully a knock off cheapy?”
“Ummm…. no. It was a Waterford glass from my wedding.” LIKE A FREAKING TOP TIER WATERFORD!
Now I’m screaming not her, “WHYWOULDYOUGIVEMEAWATERFORDWINEGLASSWHENI’VEWARNEDYOUOFMYACCIDENTALBREAKAGEATEVERYTURN?”
I think she responded, “I didn’t think you would actually break it.” Because, you know, most adults do not have these kinds of issues when socializing.
Of course she was the best and said she wasn’t mad at me or at least to my face she didn’t. She has since tried to give me other glass wine glasses (paired down to dollar wine glasses I hope) and yet, I vehemently refuse while asking for pure plastic. BPAfree of course. Basically any material hard to destroy with my man hands.
I have now been deduced to “sippy cups” and even then, I can barely keep these puppies in an upright position.
Case in point from this past weekend.
Posing for a photo in which I have been caught in the act of trying to keep my “sippy cup” from falling and spilling onto everyone. I showed Ninja-like moves in saving everyone from a potential disaster. from a sippy cup.
I am proud to say, no glassware was broken (that I know of) during my visit.