Vinegar Martinis

The Reality of Logging a Support Case

2012-02-07T15:53:00.003-05:00

I've come to the conclusion that I'd rather have a root canal than call any IT Case Support call center. Seriously, a root canal without Novocain and done by a dentist with horrific breath. Anything would be less painful than the morning I've had dealing with a very well known cloud based software as a service vendor and said vendor's customer help line.

I'm doing a project for a company this month to help them set up said very well known cloud based software as a service vendor. Normally, I'm a huge fan of this particular vendor. Today - eh, not so much. See, I've found myself stumped on a particular custom report and after a few hours trying to deal with this on my own, I caved and called the toll free 'Help' line and went on the 'Help' section of the website to log the case. The blurb on the website talked about how efficient the 'Help' section is and how their Customer Service Technicians are here to help blah blah blah. What they should have written was 'Log your damn case and let us close it'. Don't believe me, below is an exact word for word transcript of my interaction with 'Bob' this morning. (OK, maybe not word for word but it's what should have been said).

Oh, and let me preface this with the phone rang, then had a funny blip and was answered in what was either an obvious call center overseas or a frat house during a keg party with live chickens running loose. Since the call transpired at around 10 am EDT, I'm doubting even the partying-est fraternity on the planet was rocking the house that early on a school day so let's run with the call center in Delhi.

Bob: (speaking very very fast) Thankyouforcallingthehelpdesk. This is "BOB", may I have your case number?

Me - I just logged it online - it's FRQ9987BNXX-12734532.0002 to the nth power.

Bob: I see it in my system, may I close your case?

Me: Um, no, I just logged it, I'm still having the issues.

Bob: Oh so sorry. I see you need help with custom reports. May I close your case?

Me: (starting to get irritated): No, I still need the help. I need to create a custom relationship to run a report. I'm getting an error message that the fields aren't related.

Bob: I see, you are needing the fields to relate. May I close your case?

Me: Bob, is there a supervisor there I can speak with?

Bob: I will transfer you to a new case manager. May I close this case?

Me: Sure whatever.

muzak plays and I'm transferred to "Phil" - who sounds exactly like "Bob" so for all I know this is some guy in his basement totally messing with me.

Phil: thankyouforcallingthehelpdesk. This is 'Phil'. What is your case number?

Me: The one I was talking to 'Bob' about is FRQ9987BNXX-12734532.0002 to the nth power. But I think he's giddy over there because he got to close it.

Phil: That case is closed. I will open you new one. What is your issue?

Me: Same as before, I need to get fields to relate so I can pull a custom report.

Phil: You need field relationships. May I close this case.

Me: (seriously wishing I had an air horn to blast in his ear about right now). No. How do I get the fields to relate.

Phil: You need to go to the field relationship section in setup. My entire compensation is solely based on how many cases I close so may I close this case.

Me: By all means, please close the effing case. You've been so helpful!

Phil: Thank you. Will you complete a brief survey about my assistance?

Me: (obviously sarcasm is not the international language I thought it was since 'Phil' missed that part entirely). Oh I'd love to!

Phil then transferred me to another automated system - this time a recorded voice with a very heavy accent speaking faster than an auctioneer on caffeine. Needless to say, I hung up before completing the survey about Phil's stellar customer service.

Eventually I found my answer on my own. Phil was half right, I had to go to set up but the section is called Field Sets not relationships! Ugh! And to add insult to injury, I have no case to close to complete me!

VM

A Gen X-er Addresses the Occu-Twits

2011-12-22T20:37:00.003-05:00

That'd be ME! Strange to think we Gen X slackers are pushing or deep in our 40's now but it's true. I embrace my inner grunge and puff out my chest to address the Occu-Twits who think they are the oh so persecuted group of graduates and job hunters.

Ready - listen to your elder, kids, you may learn a thing or two. Here goes:

SHUT UP! GO HOME! GET A FREAKING JOB! If there aren't jobs where you call home - MOVE! Take Sam Kinison's advice - MOVE WHERE THE FOOD IS (replace 'food' with 'job' and you're golden)

Sorry if this hurts your overly pampered little fee fees right now but assuming you are all actually college grads, let's do some simple math here. You've been occupying Wall Street with your cute little signs and shouts of 'Corporate Greed' while paying homage to the great unwashed masses who entered Ellis Island many decades before you (only I'm sure they were far more grateful and smelled a lot better). You've been staging this very public little temper tantrum since September 17. Here's where the math comes in. It's now December 22 - NINETY SIX DAYS later. What could you have done in 96 days - three months - a full fiscal quarter?

Seriously, ninety six days ago, you were unemployed, broke and bitter that no one was throwing six figure jobs your way what with that oh so valuable degree in Philosophy of Primitive Cultures you went into hock to obtain. Ninety six days later, you're still unemployed, broke, bitter and still sporting a worthless degree! And for what? What has changed in ninety six days besides costing the taxpayers of New York City a lot in police protection and sanitation?

Now - what if you'd taken a big honking chill pill, stopped whining that you're entitled to this or that and actually buckled down to look for a job? What if you'd beefed up your LinkedIn contacts, networked with groups in your field, contacted every living person you know to get advice or mentoring to help you help yourself? What if you'd developed an actual valuable skill set to make you more marketable? Why, young whiner, I bet you anything you'd be working my now - or at least interviewing with one of those greedy corporate bastards you shrill against now. Holy crap - one of those greedy corporate bastards may have actually hired your whining ass by now. Ninety six days later.

You could have changed your life in ninety six days. But no - you have this idea that you and your ilk need to change capitalism! You gripe about this economy and how there are no jobs, no health care, no cushy existence for your overly pampered asses. Well, shut that front door right now.

THIS Gen-X-er graduated with a Liberal Arts degree in the middle of a recession, too and guess what? I freaking worked at finding a job. Hell, in my lifetime, I've found dozens of them - sometimes two at once! Why? Because I realized my English degree from an Ag and Engineering school wasn't going to open tons of doors unless I got some experience and morphed it into something valuable for a company to hire. So I did jobs I hated. I mean HATED! What I learned from my year and a half as an outside sales rep for a big honking consumer products company was that I really really hated being an outside sales rep for a big honking consumer products company! That and the fact I was living in po-dunk South Carolina at the time, made me realize I needed to MOVE TO WHERE THE FOOD IS! (substitute "job' for 'food' and I'm golden!)

And now - many many years post my Gen-X recession filled graduation, I'm still working - still learning, still making myself valuable to a company and myself and not being some sidewalk doorstop shouting about 'fairness' and 'greed'. All this with a Liberal Arts degree and a high C average - go figure! No silver spoon in this mouth - just those Baby Boomer values my parents instilled in me!

So while you Occu-Twits whine and moan this holiday season and wait for Santa Claus to give you everything you want, let me share a quote from a great article I read recently. Frank Dunne, Jr. wrote a great piece in the Hilton Head magazine but this jumped out at me:

The point is, the real Santa Claus is between your own ears. This year, instead of making a list of things you want others to give you, make a list of things that you would like to make happen—in your own life or in the lives of others—this Christmas, next year, and beyond, and go for it.

Merry Christmas, whining youngsters. I hope you get off your entitlement rear ends and change your life in 2012. Work on yourself first before you so pompously tell the rest of us how we should change to fit your whacked out version of this fantasy world you want to live in!

VM

A Clemson Grad Remembers Larry Munson

2011-11-21T15:33:00.001-05:00

For all my Dawg buds everywhere, condolences on the loss of a true legend and voice of your team.

Listening on the other side of that voice, I have to tell you, Larry Munson annoyed all opposing teams and fans to no end with his unbridled enthusiasm and love of UGA. I mean, really, aren't broadcasters supposed to at least pretend to be impartial - here you had this most amazing cheerleader blasting his voice to anyone within frequency - it just didn't seem right.

One day in 1984, I really didn't like Larry Munson at all. See, a bunch of us really wanted to go to the UGA vs Clemson game but a ticket to that was harder to come by than an invitation to a royal wedding. Harder if you were a Clemson fan trekking to Athens trying to score that ticket. Nonetheless, a few of us road tripped down to Athens hoping someone would have an in or maybe some miracle would occur and we could get in the stadium. No such luck.

So we found a bar - real hard to do in Athens but we managed! Harder still was managing to find a bar full of wayward Clemson fans, but we managed to do that, too. And for whatever stupid reason, the game couldn't be televised locally so we all relied on the voice of Larry Munson to tell us what was going on in the most non-impartial way possible. At least the beer was cold and the bartender took sympathy on the nice tipping Clemson folk and let us stay.

It was a hard fought game - back and forth on the scoreboard and that roller coaster of emotions that goes with it. It ended up in a 23-23 tie with less than a minute to go. We were pretty much resounded to the fact this would be a 'kissing your sister' kind of game but we'd all have fun and stick around Athens for the party. And then ....

Larry Munson had a way of making words come alive and making you laugh - regardless of which side you were pulling for. On this day, we heard his frustration and laughed when he disgustingly said something about having to kick from 100,000 miles away. He cued up Kevin Butler's kick and described it with 'it's a long one, a long one . . . OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!'.

Dude, seriously? You're a professional for goodness sake - WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED???

Then we heard the roar from however many miles we were from the stadium and we knew what Larry didn't have to tell us. Dang if Kevin Butler didn't nail it from that 100,000 miles away. Georgia won. Clemson fans packed up, tucked tail and headed back up I-85. I believe that was the first time - of many - I uttered the famous words, "Dammit, Clemson!"

Fast forward a few years - I've gone to and graduated from Clemson and found myself here in Atlanta working in a restaurant while looking for a real job. One night, in walks Larry Munson and of course, fate would have it that he gets seated in my section not any of the ones with the drooling UGA fans! I went over, did the regular waitron thing and took drink orders but when I brought the drinks back, I set an empty glass in front of Mr. Munson. He looked up at me and before he could ask, I told him that he made me really mad a few years back and he could just wait a little while longer for that drink! He laughed and asked if I was Florida or Auburn - I said neither - Clemson - and I would never forgive him for not letting us know exactly what happened with Butler's kick because 'Oh My God' didn't exactly cut it!

The man threw back his head and roared!! Who could stay mad at that?

We exchanged a few good natured quips as I waited on him and his party but I pretty much just did my job that night - didn't spit in his food, got him his refills and apparently he liked it because he tipped an obscene amount. Maybe this was his apology for that Saturday years earlier? We'll never know - I got my 'real job' shortly after that fateful night and hung up my waitron shoes forever. But I didn't forget my encounter with Mr. Munson - and how even a Clemson fan could come to love the guy! He was witty and funny - and a damn good tipper! Great qualities in a human being - even one who loves Dawgs!

Farewell, Mr. Munson! You may not want to yell 'OH MY GOD' anymore, though - he's sitting right next to you now!

A Double Shot of "WINNING"

2011-11-18T09:24:00.007-05:00

No not Charlie Sheen's version

When and if I'm ever anointed Queen, I would make a lot of good changes and fix some of this crap we're dealing with now.

First off - the easy one - get rid of the designated hitter in baseball! It's stupid. If a grown man can hurl a baseball 90+ miles an hour at a batter, that same dude can face it as a batter. It's as simple as the playground logic, don't dish it out if you can't take it rule! The American League is full of a bunch of wussies - either play the game like the rest of us or take your ball and go home. End of discussion!

Now onto my ultimate fantasy of change:
Adjust the food pyramid to include daily requirements of chocolate and booze for all healthy adults; negate all calories in those particular food groups and increase the calories burned for just sitting to equal that of a two hour aerobic workout. All will be right with the world when these things are put into motion. Well, maybe those and a couple more - read on.

Abolish the IRS. I don't care if you subscribe to The Fair Tax, the TEA Party, or my man Herman's 999 plan - funding basic government shouldn't require an advanced degree in math or finance. I'm not against paying taxes - I like having a military to defend me, roads to drive on and a postal service - but I've done the Vinegar Martini household taxes for going on 15 years now and every year it's more and more complicated. A simplified consumption tax would solve a lot - raise more money - and above all, teach these Starbucks grande vanilla latte sipping, iPhone tweeting yahoos protesting the evils of American Corporations a thing or two about responsibility and how things are funded in this country! I guarandamntee if any of those unwashed masses actually understood and paid attention to who funds what, they'd shut up, clean up and go home!

And about those yahoos "occupying" something or another, for all of us complaining about what a bunch of whiners they are, not so fast there - we did this to ourselves. Problem of the day - we created these little entitlement bastards with our politically correct, hurt nobody's feelings, everybody's a freaking winner mentality starting with youth sports and ending with these trumped up high school graduations where everyone's an 'Honor Roll' student. Those of us who oppose this 'Occupy' movement may have called some of those protesters 'Losers' when the truth of the matter is, not a one of those people has ever 'lost' anything in their lives.

When you teach 4 and 5 year olds that scores don't matter on the soccer field - just have fun; when you teach elementary school kids that everyone gets a prize for the fundraiser whether you sold anything or not; when you teach middle schoolers that as long as you don't make a 'C', you're on one of the 'Honor' rolls for the school; why on earth are you surprised when teens and young adults expect to be handed high paying jobs upon graduations from high school or college? We don't call those who don't come in first place 'losers' - they're 'winners, too'. Consolation finalists, participants, good job kids, your team didn't 'lose' they finished in the top two!

Give me a flipping break!

Cold hard fact here, folks - teams and people do LOSE! Ask Clemson about that Georgia Tech game! Ask John McCain about his presidential run. Neither my beloved Tigers nor Senator McCain threw a fit about the wide gap in the results - all of the above LOST! Last time I checked, it didn't kill either party - go figure! But sadly, society doesn't like 'losers' and they tend to whitewash it to the point of almost demonizing someone who actually 'wins'!

Case in point - L'il Vinegar made straight A's this last nine weeks in her first year of middle school. She worked her butt off and I'm proud of her - so much so that yes, I caved and put the 'My Child is an Honor Student at blah blah blah Middle School' magnet on the car. Then I learned there are multiple 'Honor' rolls - the Principal's Honor Roll - for all A's, the School Honor Roll - for A's and B's, and probably a 'Winner's Honor Roll' for walking upright and not falling asleep in class (OK, I made the last one up, but still). Where's the prestige and honor in making all A's when your classmate scoots by with all B's and one A and gets the same 'honor'? When L'il Vinegar learned this, she took the magnet off the car herself. Her exact 11 year old words of wisdom - 'It's not that special'.

And yet we teach our kids from birth how 'special' they are - but 'everyone's a winner'! Huh? Kid's aren't that stupid. Well, maybe they grow up to be if they occupy a street, but for the most part, L'il Vinegar's logic is spot on with kids - they totally understand who won and who lost whether we overprotective adults tell them so or not. And for the most part, hopefully, kids understand that real 'winners' are made when you get back up and keep trying - keep working hard and then the most amazing thing happens . . you improve, learn, achieve and appreciate the journey - not the plastic trophy and snow cone or 'participants' badge handed out so nobody feels left out or slighted. Here's a novel approach, let's actually commend those who achieve things rather than redistribute the glory to all? No one would ever propose chopping up an Olympic gold medal and giving a piece to everyone who tried - so why on earth is is acceptable to propose taking the hard earned money a person makes and spreading it around to everyone else?

So "occupy" THAT thought, you yahoos! Winners earn their rewards - not for their greed but for their hard work and dedication - be it in sports or the boardroom!

VM

*Paid for by the Citizens to anoint Vinegar Martini Queen of the World so she can fix all this crap everyone else mucked up committee.

Weddings - Past and Present

2011-11-06T23:00:00.003-05:00

The Martini Family went to a wedding last night. It was a beautiful day and a wonderful occasion. And it brought back lots and lots of memories. Specifically, after talking to one of Mister Vinegar's cousins, how we interpret our own weddings and what are memories are there.

My wedding - fun, lots of people, I remember thinking my dad was walking too fast down the aisle but being happy he could walk at all. I was getting teary as the wedding director was doing that kind of quiet but really loud whispering 'SLOW DOWN' because all I could do was remember really big crutches when I was little. Seems my dad had a serious back injury and was in a wheelchair for a very long time. I remembered the crutches - then remembered that my Daddy was the fun Dad who played kick ball with every kid in the neighborhood in our awesome backyard. So yeah, walk too fast, Daddy - I'm glad you can do it at all!!!!

At my wedding, I remembered being kind of embarrassed being the center of attention - I wanted everyone to have fun. The single greatest compliment of that night, when my incredibly fun friend, Bob said that he hoped his own wedding would be half as awesome as our was! At that point, Mister Vinegar and I shared a look and a moment of victory! We wanted to get married to each other but we wanted everyone to have a good time! Bob just confirmed that!

The single greatest moment of that night - other than getting married to the Mister - was that we left our reception to go visit his grandmother. And wow, what an experience that was! The guy who was supposed to drive us back to our hotel got a little bit too tipsy at the reception so Mister Vinegar took over the actual driving duty once we left sight of the wedding party - lest he embarrass an old family friend. Then Mister, me and my bigass dress all piled into his Toyota Corolla and hauled it to Grandmuddy's house.

Oh but wait, we had to stop at a liquor store to get the champagne we forgot in Tipsy dude's car. Imagine if you will, bride in full dress, groom in tow, trotting into the local liquor store sometime around 11pm on a Saturday night to get their own champagne? I got escorted in like royalty by a cop -mainly because bigass dress wouldn't fit in the turnstall and it didn't stop the magic! I do think the owner gave us the champagne for free when we explained where we were going on our wedding night. And everyone in the store applauded as we left. OK, maybe not Kate and William but dangit, we felt like royalty that night!

Then we arrived. Grandmuddy was awake and waiting and so thrilled we were there., My one regret in life is that we had no cameras, cell phones didn't have them back then either to record this amazing night. But she was happy - she came down in her nightgown and devoured the food we brought her from the reception. She drank more champagne that night than either of us did and she talked. Lord Almighty did she talk. Stories, advice, banter - I can't remember it all right now but I loved every second of it at that moment! Grandmuddy kept us there until well after 1am on our wedding night - and we both have no regrets for doing it. It was an amazing time!!!!

Years later, when she passed, she specifically noted that she wanted us to have the very chair I sat in that night. It warms my heart knowing that she got such a kick out of us visiting that she remembered it years later. I sit in that very chair every evening in my bedroom - a little older than when she saw me - much wiser but ever so happy that we did that on our wedding night. It was one of my favorite moments of that wonderful night.

We've attended many weddings since our own - now four of Mister Vinegar's cousins' weddings and all with their special stamp on our hearts. His oldest cousin got married the same year as we did and that was the first time I met his uncle who passed away within a few years of that. Next was the wedding I had to attend solo since he had to work and it was lovely - full Catholic wedding with beautiful fall reception following. I spent a lot of time telling him about it because he did feel so badly about missing it.

Then, the amazing wedding of two faiths. L'il Vinegar was old enough to be invited and young enough to be entranced by the 'princess' bride coming down the aisle. To this day, that was one of the most beautiful weddings I've attended - because of the challenges it held and because of how the bride and groom just overcame them and reveled in getting married!!!

And then this weekend. Something just worked - the weather was just cool enough - just warm enough for a lovely outdoor late Fall wedding. Leaves occasionally fell during the ceremony and added enough extra color and beauty to enhance the occasion. I've always been secretly sappy - more so in my old(er) age. I got sappy here. Bride was beautiful, Groom so proud. And FAMILY - blood related and once removed - were together and just having fun! Sappy old me just loves that now!

Maybe this wedding meant more to me because of what is happening on my side of a family. My oldest uncle was in a very bad car accident last week - he's fine but it'll be a long road for him. Uncle Frank is bar none, the sweetest human being on the planet. As he was being pulled from his car, he was more worried about the other driver; as he was being airlifted to a trauma hospital, he was telling the EMT he knew that man's mother and father. My uncle Frank will recover - albeit slowly - but Uncle Frank loves his family - so much so that he's the one always trying to plan the reunions and get togethers. This weekend's wedding made me remember that even more.

My own wedding was the last time all of my side of the family has been together. That was almost 15 years ago. How sad is that? Granted we span multiple states, but still? Why does it take weddings and funerals for us to remember who we are - who we're related to - and why we NEED to see each other more regularly? Family - for better or for worse - in sickness or in health -family, is all we've got.

Hug who you have near you tonight. Call who you don't. And plan something - other than a wedding or a funeral and get yourselves together more often than not!

VM

PS - Coburn Zoo - this one's for you! Thanks for reminding me how much I love you guys and how I need to not neglect this blog so much!!!!

The Aftereffects of Travel

2011-09-20T16:24:00.003-04:00

Last week, I had to travel for work. I literally do this once in a blue moon and always with plenty of heads up. Mister Vinegar knew that that he - and only he - would be the parental unit in charge and L'il Vinegar had lots and lots 'o stuff to do that week. I wrote out where to be on what day, drew up maps to get there and gave time frames and instructions to both offspring and spouse before flying out. Military missions aren't planned with this much precision and planning! Mister Vinegar assured me everything would be fine!

And yet, I still worried.

See, I love me some Mister Vinegar more than my luggage but he's not the 'everyday git er done' kind of parent when it comes to Miss Thang's school, soccer and social engagements. Throw in the fact that she's a tween girl complete with attitude and fashion sense, and the poor dude was thrown for a loop when he tried to walk her to the bus stop or pick out her clothes. (Note to the Mister - she doesn't wear soccer shorts and t-shirts to school anymore - we're into Abercrombie and Aeropostle now!)

And yet, I still left!

But thanks to the miracle of modern telecommunications, I got texted - a lot! By both of them. Ranging from him telling me he was walking her to the bus and her texting me to please please PLEASE tell Daddy not to walk me to the bus stop. Both also felt that my super mom psychic abilities allowed me to know where the blue practice jersey was from hundreds of miles away. To that, both of them got instructions to go to a window, look outside and if they saw Pennsylvania, then and only then would I know what the heck they were talking about because that's where I was! By the way, blue practice jersey was hanging in the bathroom right where I left it after doing laundry on Monday!!!

But we all survived a week without Mama. I returned safely home to be greeted by a squeal of 'Mommy', pounding feet running to me and a huge bear hug. And that was from Mister Vinegar! L'il did the same but somehow watching my husband of almost 15 years run to me with a 'Thank GAWD you are home' look on his face was worth everything to me! Both the Mister and the L'il looked fed, rested and healthy, the house was intact and the cat was still alive. And the bonus was that I was suddenly appreciated for the nine gazillion things I do at once. One would have assumed it was a successful week.

Well you know what they say about ASSumptions don't you? Read on.

The next day, I realized that in the week I was gone, no one did laundry or went to the grocery store. I knew Mister Vinegar did take out one night I was gone but I didn't realize he did it every night. When I asked him, he said, 'she had practice until 8pm two nights - who has time to cook?' Seriously? Um, ME! I do that every week - it's why God invented CROCK POTS! When I asked about the laundry, Mister Vinegar's response was that he took his shirts to the dry cleaners. Um. there's another person in the house who doesn't wear dress shirts - thank goodness she has enough stylish tween fashionable clothes (and undies) to cover the week of no laundry.

But the kicker - the worst aftereffect of all - the refrigerator. See, I am a leftover person, You cook once, eat twice - all is right with the universe. And once a week, I will purge the leftovers from the refrigerator so we don't get interesting growths or smells in there. In hindsight, I probably should have done that Monday before I left. Hindsight is a tricky bitch, though!

Today, I realized there were leftovers in our refrigerator that had been there entirely too long to be considered leftovers. No, by now, they were science projects. The rice I made for the pot roast a week and a half ago was a color that does not and should not exist in the food world. The spaghetti was a gelatinous blob of goo and I don't even want to talk about the thing in the baggie in whatever brownish marinade Mister Vinegar conjured up. I needed a haz-mat suit in my kitchen today.

Once I got all the leftover 'projects' out, tossed and properly scrubbed, I went for the vegetables and fruit that no one touched in the week I was gone. Luckily none had morphed into liquid form yet and no rubber gloves were needed for that purge. The final thing I had to tackle was the bread - or rather the penicillin mold spores growing in the Nature's Own bag. Again, colors that do not and should not exist in my kitchen! All in all, this was a multiple Hefty bag project today - done during the hours I should have been working on spreadsheets and dashboards for a cranky Vice President but since cranky Vice President is at a client's site until Thursday, I bought myself some Mama is Home time - to reclaim my home.

Now that I think about it - the best aftereffect of traveling is that Mister Vinegar was forced to walk a week in my shoes - and he didn't like it. In fact, he's told me many times since Friday that he doesn't know how I do it! Yeah, keep on with that appreciation, Mister - Mama's home now!!

VM

Things I WANT to Forget!

2011-09-11T18:47:00.004-04:00

All day I've read or heard people say "Never Forget" what happened ten years ago. Seriously, though, find me any human being on this planet that was coherent on that day with access to media that HASN'T forgotten what happened on that September day? If you had a lobotomy on September 12, 2001, then maybe I can see forgetting the worst day in our history, but the rest of us - regardless of where you fall politically - how on earth COULD you forget?

So here are the things I want to - I WISH I could - forget:

1. How I felt after watching the second plane hit live on television. At that moment, we all knew this was no accident. I never want to feel that afraid, that desperate, and that lonely ever again. I want to forget that feeling.

2. The images of people jumping from the building. At first even the television commentators thought it was debris - then when we all realized it was a human being who made the agonizing choice to leap out of a building - it was like getting hit in the gut. You were watching a person die. There were no safety net 80+ stories below - no walking away from that choice. I'm only grateful there were no cameras on the ground capturing the end of that fall. My heart broke most for those poor souls. I want to forget that sight.

3. Tears. Those I cried for people I didn't know, for my country under attack, in sympathy for those I saw crying in anguish wanting to hear from their loved ones. I didn't realize the human body could produce that many tears. I want to forget the hot tears streaming uncontrollably down my face.

4. The helplessness of that evening - watching news report after news report - reliving the crashes, the falls, the agony and the fear - and knowing there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it at that moment. Sure in the coming days, we rallied and donated to charities, sent supplies to the first responders, prayed and flew our flags as a great big fist pump and flip off to the assholes who masterminded this horrific attack. But that night, it was utter helplessness - and tears. I want to forget that helplessness and despair.

5. The images around the world - or at least in places where monsters actually live - of those people cheering and celebrating as the buildings fell. Their cheers were like knives in my heart. The pure hatred that welled up in me is shameful now - but that day - I wanted them all stripped naked and placed on fire ant hills to be eaten alive by equally heartless monsters. Bastards! I didn't want them killed - I wanted them to suffer - be tortured - to hurt a thousand times more than what they caused. That's a lot of hate to carry around - I want to - no I NEED to forget that hatred because it makes me no better than the hatred they had for us.

For now, no, I haven't forgotten that day. I can't - I won't. How can anyone forget how a beautiful September day turned into the darkest day in our lives? It permanently changed every one of us. I wish I could forget that my daughter has lived almost her entire life knowing we are at war with - well - Monsters. And they aren't the scary ones we think are under the bed or in the closet - they walk among us. They may look non assuming but you never know what they are plotting. Sure, we killed their weasel of a leader but they’re still there - sheep following another asshole who took Bin Laden's place

For today - ten years later, I still cry, I still hurt, I still hate those who did this - so please don't tell me not to forget. I won't ever forget - but to be honest, there are some things about September 11, 2011, I sure wish I could erase from my memory - because it still hurts too much - even ten years later.

VM

Where'd August Go?

2011-09-05T19:59:00.009-04:00

I think this may be the first time since I started this little diddy of a blog that I missed a whole month!

OOPS!

Let's see how many good excuses I can come up with:

I was busy
I was working
I had to get L'il Vinegar all situated with Middle School (ACK!)
I went on vacation
I was trapped under something heavy
I was dead at the time

Buying any of them? Didn't think so.

So the truth:
First weekend in August - L'il Vinegar's new (well, new to HER) Soccer Club has a fun 5 v 5 tournament. Me, being super human multi-tasking soccer mom that I am, volunteered to do the tie-dye shirts for the jerseys since the real ones aren't in yet. I really really REALLY suck at tie-dying and we ended up with pretty much lime sherbet green jerseys - but I totally rocked in the 'lift the tournament logo off the web and transfer it to iron ons' department. Between that and the wicked cool iron on numbers, Team Magic Jack rocked! We lost but we looked good doing it!

End of first weekend in August - the oft postponed, highly abbreviated, recently delayed beach vacation for a whopping 72 hours. Scratch that we were there approximately 60 hours - we ended up leaving earlier than expected when Mr. Vinegar started having serious digestive/stomach issues. And seeing as how we've done the whole 'take my colon, please' bit, we hightailed it home, did not pass go and went straight to the ER for testing. Bozos in the ER said it was pancreatitus. Truth was, dude had a serious reaction to the Lipitor his new 'Doctor' switched him to even before getting the blood work back to determine if he needed switching! Needless to say, I'm not a fan of new 'Doctor' at all. Mr. Vinegar ceased taking Lipitor and voila - poof - perfectly fine in 24 hours! Go figure!

While Mr. Vinegar rested comfortably letting evil vile Lipitor leave his system, I proceeded to take L'il Vinegar to her Middle School (ACK) open house where she saw old friends, met her teachers and proceeded to trick out her locker the best she could since her mean mom wouldn't spring for the 'trick out your locker' crap at the local school supply store. But L'il Vinegar was happy and we left Middle School (ACK) to purchase the rest of the school supplies needed according to the four teachers we met.

Meanwhile, apparently the old attire that was acceptable for little miss tomboy in Elementary school wasn't up to fashionista par in Middle School (ACK). So second weekend in August, we high tailed it up to the outlet stores and proceeded to stimulate the economy (even while paying 60% less than retail). Miss Thang got herself decked out in the appropriate Aeropostale, Abercrombie, and Hollister all chic 6th graders are donning these days. She even splurged (yes, SHE paid) on a Coach purse - saying she needed a purse now and why not go for something classic. Yes, she actually said that - God help me, I've got a fashionista tomboy tween!

Then Middle School (ACK) started the same week as soccer practice. And since apparently our team pissed off some soccer scheduling powers that be, we drew two days of 5:30pm practices. Now a side note, around here, Middle School (ACK) starts at 9:15 and lets out at 4:15. Buses move at speeds only matched by turtles or molasses, so they don't drop kiddies off until around 4:30-4:45 - or in our case 4:50. So twice a week, I have to be one of 'THOSE MOMS' parked early in the pick up line to win the Golden Vagina award for picking up the offspring first and way faster than any other mother on the planet therefore I am the best! OK, I'm not that bad - there are usually 4-5 cars ahead of me so those moms win, but still - after 6 years laughing at 'THOSE MOMS' I can't believe I'm one of them now. Shhhh.

Meanwhile, work has exploded. Don't get me wrong, I'm loving this work out of the house gig, but I'm working way more than 40 hours a week and when things explode, they tend to do so after hours. All is well though, I think they like me and I'm darn sure trying to keep it that way. There's one little snag - a VP with a penchant for blame and he's had me in the cross hairs a few times but I've evaded. I've done the asshat more than enough favors so I'm not sure why he turned on me other than maybe he missed his anti-psychotic meds that day?

Then, L'il Vinegar announces she's chose orchestra as her musical elective of choice and we have to get her a violin to butcher - I mean play - at home. She seems to love it and so far my ears aren't bleeding so all is well.

And the next thing I have noticed is - WHAM - it's Labor Day so I ask you - where the hell did August go? I remember it being hot as blue blazes, nary a drop of rain, and a lot of treks back and forth to Middle School (ACK) and soccer fields but other than that, it's a blur.

My life is passing me by too quickly - did I mention my one and only offspring is in Middle School (ACK) now? So far she's liking it and there's no drama - but stay tuned....tweenhood adolescence is here - it's just lying dormant for now waiting to surprise me with hormones, emotions, and all sorts of fun stuff!

I picked the wrong month to quit drinking, huh?

Doing the Right Thing Pisses Me Off

2011-07-23T00:45:00.004-04:00

OK.

Understand I am PISSED right now but trying to hold it together.

Y'all know I love me some Dave Ramsey and I 'GET' it! Save more, spend less, don't buy more than you have coming in and for goodness sakes, have an emergency fund. But I am PISSED!!!

My emergency fund - that thing keeping us going - is gone - and the reason it's gone is a dying bleeding fungus on my life! My freaking paid for car!!!!!!!!!!! We kept figuring, 'thank goodness we have this' as we kept ker-plunking more and more into the big Green Monster. We ker-plunked to the tune of $2,300!!!

And now we have a death sentence on the big Green Monster - effing thing is terminal! A little funky no-one-is-talking-about defect that Chrysler won't fess up to. UNTIL. Maybe that little defect causes a pretty little family to be torched when an 18 wheeler t-bones them after the stupid car stalls out?????

I drive that car. I loved (past tense) that car! I had my most precious possession in the world in that car! And if you think for one red minute I will ever EVER drive that car again, you are high! And to add insult to injury, all that money I saved just in case is now gone trying to revive that effing terminal car and now I have to come up with a down payment AND deal with a freaking payment since my emergency fund is now depleted!!!

I love Dave Ramsey but he doesn't speak to shit like this - when we do the right thing and it still screws us royally!!!!

Greatest Goal EVER!!!

2011-07-11T20:52:00.007-04:00

Don't believe me - watch this and marvel!!!

ABBY WAMBACH HEADER

Greatest cross ever - greatest header ever - greatest team you've never heard of before this weekend!!!

GO USA!

VM

Sigh

2011-07-02T23:17:00.005-04:00

Cancer sucks!

And it may have won this round, but I guarandamntee we're going to keep on fighting!!!

Seriously, Cancer sucks wind - sucks sucks sucks. What a bitch of a disease to take so many before their time and cause such pain along the way. I hate cancer with the same intensity that I hate lima beans - and anyone who knows me longer than 10 minutes knows I really really REALLY effing hate lima beans.

My Internet bud lost her battle last night. I never met this woman in person and yet since 2001 on several Internet boards, she touched me. Her blog is incredible. If you have a day or so to read her journey - her decisions - her fears and most of all, her faith - do so! The link is above.

Kirstin will wrap her words around your heart and never let go! She just MATTERED!!! To those she ministered - to those she debated with online - to those she met in person or met via this little thing called the Internet. I hope and pray I matter a fraction as much as she did.

Raise a glass for me tonight - toast an amazing woman. Hug who you love in her name!! Kirstin Paisley - you lived, you loved, you mattered! You touched my heart - heck, sometimes, your words reached in there and grabbed on for dear life -changing mine! You taught me tolerance, compassion, and love. You mattered! I know you read that while you could but I can't reiterate it enough - you MATTERED!!!!!!

The words from my favorite musical keep coming back to me: "Because I knew you- I have been changed - for good!"

Kirstin, you changed me - for good!! You leave a lot of people mourning your passing, celebrating that you are Home, but missing you because you just mattered so damn much!!!

Peace to you, my friend. I cannot wait to meet you! Until then, I will live my life and just try to matter half as much as you did!

Perspective

2011-06-30T19:45:00.004-04:00

Today I woke up in a funk. Pissy about nothing, worried about trivial stuff, feeling blue and sorry for myself for some stupid reason or another I can't even put my finger on right now. But for some reason, I chastised myself even before getting out of bed. Here I felt like I was wasting time, energy, money or what not and the thought that crept into my head was about my old internet friend, Kirstin Paisley. My thought "How dare you waste days and time that she doesn't have!" It jolted me into reality and right out of that funk. I got up and went about my day - complete with mundane tasks and inconveniences but as the day wore on, my attitude got better and better.

It's not that odd that I should be thinking of her - she has been very open about her battle with cancer and her recent decision to end that fight. She has written a few very beautiful eloquent posts in her blog and vowed to continue to do so as long as she was able.

Today, 'able' went away. As my day got better, hers got worse. I just saw a blog post written by her loving companion, Andee.

Turning Point

Beautifully written and touching. But nothing has touched me more than Kirstin's own words last Friday:

It isn’t time to die yet. But it is time, to begin giving over. I am so grateful for the people who walk with me most closely in that, and who teach me that even if I have scary times contemplating all of this, God is already holding me that closely, has always been, and will always be. I’m not going into the arms of a stranger. I’m held in the arms of the one who created me exactly as I am.

Godspeed, my friend. Those you leave behind will hold you in our hearts forever.

VM

Funniest. Thing. Ever!!!

2011-06-23T00:04:00.006-04:00

I needed this now - I double dawg dare you not to laugh until you cry reading THIS!!!!

Only made funnier to me since next year is Mr. Vinegar Martini and my 15th wedding anniversary - I need to go shopping with Laura.

Bring on the giant chicken - new traditional anniversary gift for the fifteenth year! snicker snicker!

The Suckage Continues

2011-06-16T16:26:00.007-04:00

Once again the poor innocent blog suffers because I totally suck.

Well, maybe not totally suck - I've been really busy, started a new job, took L'il Vinegar to umpteen zillion soccer clinics, tryouts, and camps, dealt with a broken down car - TWICE, and (mutters) agreed to be the Secretary of the PTA.

OK then, how've y'all been? Wait, what - the PTA thing? Oh that - well, a woman I know well is the president of the PTA at the middle school L'il Vinegar will be attending this fall and she caught me in a moment of weakness - or drunkenness - or whatever - and well, I kinda sorta agreed to be a Middle School PTA minion - er, I mean Executive Board Member.

We had our first gathering of the coven last night during a wicked thunderstorm and I took the oath of office, swore blood allegiance and drank from the sacred cup to solidify my commitment. Actually, seven of us partook of a kickass bottle of wine at Prez's house. Next month it's Margaritas at the Treasurer's abode - I'm liking this PTA! I'll have to plan my jello shot Thursday meeting for September. And didja notice the operative word in this description of the meeting? (Hint - nothing to do with alcohol) - we met last night - NIGHT! Not 10am - 7pm! GO FREAKING FIGURE - you can actually have a meeting at night!!!!

Granted the meeting still ran 2.5 hours but did I mention there was wine? Makes things way more tolerable. They should serve it at every PTA function!

More later - hopefully maybe!

Hello Goodbye

2011-05-30T22:50:00.010-04:00

Yeah yeah - I suck! May comes and goes and I don't blog!

Lots has happened - lots to tell.

First - I had the worst last day at a job - ever! Seriously! Malibu Barbie threw me a going away party! Can you imagine? The brain dead twit they hired instead of me gets to plan the send off - and man did she blow it. First, she had a big old honking cake! I hate cake! Seriously - hate hate hate cake - never touch it - icked out by it - anyone who knows me longer than 15 minutes knows I have this weird quick about cake. And Barbie buys me an effing cake!

And then - just when you think things can't get weirder - she misspells my name! No shit - I have a very easy name and twit misspells it! Has do do it the cutesy way and end it in an 'i' not a 'y' - oh yeah, I'm such an 'i' kind of chick! NOT!

So I leave in the most awkward send off ever and head on to dream job! Best onboarding ever! Even if I did cart the co-founder of the freaking company with me 2 hours in a car and the dude neglects to tell me he's a big shot! I just picked the guy up at the airport and had a nice chat for 2+ hours only to find out he's a flipping GOD at the organization! Go figure! Good thing we got along!!!

Next up - L'il Vinegar finished fifth grade! Operative word FINISHED - not graduated - freaking FINISHED! To the PTA Twits, it was the event of the century - to me it was finishing fifth freaking grade! End of story. We endured all the hype and circumstance and made it through the end of the year without harm or foul! Hello middle school - thank goodness!

And finally, after three years, over 20 tournaments, making the finals 8 times, our girls finally sealed the deal and came home with a championship - - - and then promptly disbanded. Yup, the team is kaput - scattering to the wind! The YMCA has screwed us for the last time - and most of the players are finally moving on to real soccer clubs - us included.

Tryouts are this week - stay tuned!

Whew - now I have a May entry - I"ll elaborate and catch y'all up later this week!

Good Things Come . . . .

2011-04-20T12:32:00.004-04:00

More on Malibu Barbie in a bit but first, the big news . . .

I GOT THE JOB!!!!!

And by "the' job I mean 'THE" job I've been interviewing for since January and waiting for since 2000! A full time, nice salaried, fully benefitted (is that a word?) position based "primarily out of your home" according to the handy dandy offer letter! WOO FREAKING HOO!!!

And this home based gig doesn't involve selling, answering phones, forwarding emails or recruiting 'associates' - it's REAL! In fact, it's identical to what I've been doing here at Company X for the last nine months only I can do it in my jammies! And even better, I can be home when L'il Vinegar comes home from middle school this fall. I can spare my guzzling Jeep the pain of $4 a gallon gas and a 20+ mile commute each way. I can avoid the inevitable bad mood traffic puts me in here in the ATL. I am STOKED!

I will have the option of going into an office from time to time - but like the handly dandy offer letter said 'primiarly out of your home' is my new office! I do have to travel the first week I start but after that, pretty limited and home based! Can you tell I am excited beyond all get out?

And it's a good thing because if I didn't have that to look forward to, I'd have gone postal as hell here at Company X last week. Training Malibu Barbie is painful. Listening to her is worse. I now know how she landed this gig - girlfriend can BS her way through intelligent conversation like no one short of a politician. If you actually KNOW what is going on here, you see - er, hear - through the bullshit, but for now, she's as new and shiny as the new shiny tool they bought so my boss and his boss are so intrigued with Barbie!

Everyone else here has either expressed sympathies that I have to deal with her, jealousy that I'm leaving and get to work at home, or are avoiding me like I have leprosy. Typical last two weeks at a job behavior - no biggie. I've documented, moved files and done the very professional corporate-y niceities but in five days, I am so freaking OUTTA HERE I can't stand it!!! It's not a matter of not letting the door hit my ass on the way out - I may bust through that door and break it down! Five days - I can stomach anything for five days - even a brain dead overly processed Barbie bullshit artist!

Or at least for her sake, I hope I can!

VM

Barbie Girl in a Corporate World

2011-04-05T21:20:00.010-04:00

I have survived bosses from hell, psychotic co-workers, and even a pornographic moment on a conference call. But this one - this takes the cake. I have been replaced by none other than . . .

MALIBU BARBIE - Corporate Version 2.0

Oh wait - let me catch you up. I've been a contract employee with Company X since July. Contract was initially supposed to flip to permanent after 3 months but sometime between my first day and THREE FREAKING DAYS before the contract expired, my boss decided he wanted to go in a different direction. Only he neglected to let me know in the months leading up to the THREE FREAKING DAYS before the contract ended. But he wasn't sure which direction he wanted to go so he kept extending me on a month to month basis - for the past seven months!

His reason for changing the job description was the fact Company X bought this shiny cool marketing automation tool that no one had ever used before but was going to solve all our lead generation needs, cure the common cold and ensure world peace. No shit - this tool is going to be the end all be all of marketing and by God, we needed an 'expert' to come in and run it.

See, my boss comes from money, he married money, and he's made more money than anyone short of Warren Buffett, so when someone like that wants an expert, he by God, hires one. This dude has probably never washed his own clothes, cleaned his own house, mowed his own lawn or even wiped his own butt. He hires people for that! So he went looking for the expert in the shiny new tool - at least that's what he kept telling me was the reason I wasn't the right person for this job. And I could stomach that - until now.

Last week, Richie Rich Boss tells me that he finally hired someone but he still needed me to stay through the end of the month - maybe more - he likes the fact I do his work so of course he wants me to stay. I'm the 'expert' at his work! He proceeded to give me the bio on said 'Expert' he hired and frankly, I thought we were getting some shiny new tool Guru who would be the corporate equivalent of the Second Coming! And then reality smacked me upside the head.

I met 'Expert'. Then I talked to "Expert'. And then I nicknamed 'Expert', Malibu Barbie (Corporate Version 2.0). First up, let me describe 'Expert'. She's a perky young thang from Ala-freaking-bama with a spray tan the Dancing With The Stars crew would kill for and enough makeup to put Estee Lauder out of business. The hair color doesn't exist in nature but I think she was going for blonde to really set off the spray tan better. This is one shiny, tanned, eyelined chickie. She shows up on day one all sparkly and and then starts on the perky. I'm talking cheerleader perky. Yah rah so nice to meet you have a super day perky. Do I need to remind you that I am not a sparkly cheerleadery perky kind of person and I'm not a fan of them either? The only thing that would make this worse would be in Malibu Barbie was NOT the "Expert' and turned out to be dumber than a box of rocks.

I'm pleased to report she is not dumber than a box of rocks - she's dumber than TEN boxes of rocks. I think her expertise is either in makeup applications or bullshitting her way through interviews. First off, she started by whining that her email address wasn't going to be the standard first initial, last name @ company X dot com that the rest of us have. Barbie has a relatively common last name so they had to use the first two letters of her name - which happen to be the initials of her rival school. They also happen to be the symbol for GOLD on the periodic table - something I told her to east the pain of someone associating her with 'that school'. Her response was "No, that school's colors aren't gold". WHOOOSSSHHH!!! (That's the sound of it flying over her head or what is between her ears - take your pick).

When she sat with me to review our current non-shiny tool, I didn't dumb it down but I did offer up some tips on how to manage Richie Rich boss. I specifically said that he is a great guy but he doesn't really understand relational databases so she'll have to be ready to explain a lot to him. Her response was 'What's a relational database - I thought I was just playing with the shiny new tool.' WHOOOSSSHHH - WTF??!

I changed the subject and asked her how she dealt with shiny new tool in her last job. At this point, I was still hopeful there was some level of expertise buried under the makeup. Her response killed that hope. She giggled (yes, she freaking giggled a Barbie-esque 'tee hee') and said that she really never used shiny new tool but she watched a video on it before her interview so she'd do well. She then said that in her last job, she used a much less advanced version of the shiny tool with a different brand name. Ironically the same thing I have experience with but that wasn't good enough for Richie Rich Boss to consider me for the position.

Folks, I deserve a flipping Academy Award or Nobel Peace Prize for holding it together after learning this. I will train Barbie. I will be professional. But I am beyond pissed off right now. Either Barbie is a mastermind at interview deception or the CEO is her flipping uncle because stale dry toast is more qualified for her role than she is.

I have no idea how long I'll remain at Company X - I'm in the final stages of interviews with a couple of places. But while I'm still there, I think I'm just going to sit back and watch Barbie dig her grave. I give her a month to start ticking off some of our co-workers because our department is filled with PLM (people like me) who don't care for uber perky sparkly. One woman in particular is going to chew Barbie up and spit her out. Another is going to come out claws ready because Barbie will be contesting her for Queen Cutie in the department. That or they're going to be BFF drinking buddies and then have a massive falling out drama event six weeks later. Richie Rich boss will grow disenchanted with the 'Expert' he hired in about three months - less if she giggles.

But yeah, I've been replaced by Malibu Barbie - that's a new one! Ugh!

The All Knowing-All Seeing Mom Club

2011-03-09T14:38:00.003-05:00

Sometimes I swear I had my daughter just for the pure entertainment value of it all. Sunday night was one of those times.

We have a group of women who formed at Girls Only Supper Club and the first Sunday of every month, we gather at someone’s house – sans husband and kids – for a nice dinner and snark talk – I mean intelligent conversation (yeah, that’s what I meant). All of us have daughters the same age – so most of the chatter is about dealing with the tween angst, what’s coming next, etc. Ironically we were talking about how the girls love to text each other and lo and behold, my friend’s phone vibrated on the table. She looked at it and said , ‘It’s L’il Vinegar’.

I asked why in the world was she texting her friend’s mom and she told me that friend isn’t allowed to have a cell phone but she can use her mom’s – so her friends text what they think is the little girl’s cell phone – only mom gets the texts, first. She read me what L’il Vinegar texted – nothing interesting – just ‘Hi’. So I told her to text her ‘hi’ back and while she was doing that, I texted my kid. Here is the entire exchange. I should be ashamed to admit that it provided the best entertainment of the evening . .but I'm not!

9:27 pm - VM: Stop emailing and texting everyone and go to bed! I will be home in 10 minutes

9:28 pm - LV: OK luv u

9:30 pm - LV: Wait how did you know I was emailing and texting?

9:31 pm – VM: Mothers know EVERYTHING! (Friend’s mom and I start to snicker)

9:32 pm – LV: How?

9:32 pm – VM: Mother magic!

9:32 pm – VM: Top secret stuff! (at this point, Friend’s mom and I are giggling hysterically)

9:32 pm – LV: no really! Tell me please (this is totally freaking her out – even more hilarious to us now!)

9:33 pm – VM: Can’t – I will get kicked out of the Mom Club!

9:33 pm – LV: Oh come on! It can’t be magic or top secret

9:34 pm – LV: Mom Club??? OK show me the club forms or else I will look it up (Friend’s mom has to leave the table lest she spit out her sweet tea. I am crying from laughter now).

9:36 pm – VM: Go – it’s a secure address – you can’t find it.

9:36 pm – LV: OK I will!

9:37 pm – VM: Good luck – you can’t get on unless you are a mom!

9:38 pm – LV: I just looked it up and it says: “Mom Club: your MOM is at a Club!” you are not at a club!
9:39 pm – VM: Yes I am – dinner club!

9:41 pm – LV: Oh hardyharhar and there is another that says, “Welcome to the MOM’S Club for AT-HOME-MOTHERS!” you are not at an-home mom! (the entire table is in stitches by now at how L’il Vinegar is so determined to find this
mythical ‘Mom’s Club’ on a Google Search!)

9:43 pm – VM: I told you – the Real Mom club is top secret – you can’t get there until you become a mom.

9:44 pm – LV: Well I am NOT thinking of that anytime soon! (APPLAUSE ALL AROUND!).

I got home about 10 minutes later only to be grilled further by this very curious ten year old. Mister Vinegar backed me up completely by saying that mom’s know everything! L’il Vinegar went to bed thinking that I have visibility into everything she does or says – and I’m totally fine with that!

CSI Tampons!

2011-02-25T15:09:00.008-05:00

The longer I live, the more I embrace anarchy! Holy mother of pearl, the latest tidbit from the bible thumping asshats in my state legislature is a doozie among doozies.

Representative Bobby Franklin has introduced HB1 that - among other uber judgemental Christian conservative right wing things - would criminalize a miscarriage. Don't believe me - here's the summary that set my blood boiling:

If a woman can’t prove that her miscarriage–or spontaneous abortion–occurred without intervention, she could face felony charges.

Yes, you read that right, a woman suffering a miscarriage would now be expected to prove that she didn't do anything to cause it or face FELONY CHARGES! And yes, Representative Bobby is one of those pro-lifers who may as well be skipping down the street singing 'Every Sperm is Sacred' while throwing fake blood on any woman walking into Planned Parenthood!

This asshat has the unmitigated gall to say it's for the protection of the pregnant woman in case she's got some deadbeat boyfriend beating her or gets clobbered by a drunk driver but anyone with half a brain - which would be half more than Representative Bobby has - can see this is his political right wing grandstanding so he can thump his Pro-Life Christian chest

Only what Representative Bobby doesn't realize is that according to Web MD, 15-20 percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage. The Mayo Clinic suspects it is even higher the because many miscarriages occur so early in pregnancy that a woman doesn’t even know she’s pregnant. Most miscarriages occur because the fetus isn’t developing normally not because some evil trollop of a woman decided to engage in some risky behavior to end her pregnancy.

I'd love to take credit for the letter below but it wasn't my brilliance that penned these words:

Dear Rep. Franklin,

I applaud your efforts to support the rights of zygote citizens of Georgia by criminalizing miscarriages and investigating every instance of fetal death as a potential crime. The bill you are trying to pass is clear that the Georgia State Assembly knows that life begins at the moment of conception, and that any fertilized egg that dies is a human death that we should all grieve. I couldn't agree more, and I would like to help.

As I'm sure you know, more than 50% of fertilized eggs --Georgia citizens! -- naturally don't implant, and are flushed out of the body during menstruation. I am personally concerned that my own murdering woman-body may have flushed out some human beings, and I may have flushed them down the toilet without knowing that I was disposing of Georgia citizens in such an undignified way. This must be remedied. I would like to be sure that I am not killing any more Georgia citizens -- and that if I am, they are able to receive a proper funeral and not a burial at sea, and that our state police can dedicate valuable time and resources to investigating their deaths.

To that end, I attach a picture of my latest used tampon. I am preserving this tampon, as well as all of my other tampons, pads, feminine hygiene products and soiled panties from my current menstrual cycle, so that the Georgia State Police can come collect them as evidence. I would also be happy to drop the specimens off at your office, should you want to examine them yourself.
Please let me know if I can make an appointment to give you these items. Or, since I appreciate that you are a very busy man, please let me know when the police will be by my home to collect them, as my next cycle is rapidly approaching and they are starting to smell. I cannot keep them in my refrigerator for much longer.Thanks for all the work you do to further the pro-life cause.

Sincerely,

Don't think I won't be sending that letter - and maybe a few 'cards' signed by 'Aunt Flow' to him at the State Capital! My mama raised me not to hate anyone - I only hate lima beans. And right now, Representative Bobby Franklin is as slimy and disgusting as one of those nasty lima beans I hate so much!

VM

I am . . .

2011-02-06T00:21:00.004-05:00

I am a woman, a daughter, a sister, a niece, a cousin, a friend, a co-worker, a wife, a mother. None of these single things define or restrict me. I am capable of being all of these and more.

I’m a Christian – but not an evangelical. I’m a conservative – but not a Republican, I’m a liberal – but not a Democrat. Sometimes I’m Libertarian; sometimes I’m an Independent - I don’t define who I am by the political labels.

I work full time. In my private little Stepford hell I live in, that means I suck as a mother. In the real world, it doesn’t matter. My job doesn’t define me or deny me. I define it! I make it better than I found it.

I got married and took Mister Vinegar’s last name. I didn’t ‘lose’ who I was when I did that – I became someone better, A better half of someone else, part of a team and last time I checked, teammates wear the same uniform. In this case, we wear the same last name. I don’t get and have never gotten women who lament losing their identity by ditching the maiden name. Don’t get me started on hyphenation. It’s stupid. Unless you are a renowned physician or other professional prior to marriage – or won the freaking Nobel Peace Prize, - lose the hyphenated name! Join the team or leave the field – you can’t have it both ways.

Along that line, Mister Vinegar and I have one child - a girl. Mister Vinegar is an only son. To hear some numbnuts say that Mister Vinegar's last name 'dies with him' pisses me off. L'il Vinegar is a legacy - just like I'm a legacy to my father. Our name doesn't negate that - we are still the daughters of the man with that last name. It's as antiquated as the sexist line of succession for the throne of England.

So when I became a mother to L’il Vinegar. I didn’t lose myself – I gained a kid. I’m not just ‘L’il Vinegar’s Mom’, I’m a mother – M-O-T-H-E-R!! I helped create, harbor and deliver life! Ain’t nothing lost there – that’s a flipping accomplishment! I accept the accomplishment and responsibility it requires. I am responsible for the life I helped create. That means more than the basic shelter, feed, and clothe said life form – I have to teach her. That's a huge responsibility! And if you do it right, it's an honor and another great accomplishment. For any woman who whines how she’s ‘lost’ herself by being a mother, I just want to smack you senseless. You self centered twit – what your uterus did wasn’t that special – what you do with what came out of it is! If you were so damned concerned with keeping who you were, why did you bother involving other people in your life?

I have evolved to the woman I am today. To complain or worry that I’ve ‘lost myself’ is an insult to the life lesson’s I’ve learned along the way. I am me! For better or worse – I am who I am! And I’m damn proud of it!

VM

Spawn of Twits

2011-01-21T13:32:00.006-05:00

I've griped bitched and moaned here about the Twits in my PTA for years. Looks like now it's L'il Vinegar's turn to deal with their spawn.

L'il Vinegar was injured at an indoor soccer game this past weekend. Not a fun moment for either of us - her for the pain and fact she can't finish the season; me for hearing that scream when she hit the floor. She's not a drama queen so when she makes that much noise, I know something's up. So did her coaches - past and present - since both rushed out to help her off the court. I carried her out of the arena and drove straight to urgent care for an evaluation and x-ray. Unfortunately, urgent care couldn't make an accurate diagnosis so we had to wait to go see a pediatric orthopedist where we got the official diagnosis of a hairline fracture to the kneecap and a contusion at the growth plate below it. Supposedly this is an 'easy' injury to recover from but she was told not to do any activity.

She used crutches for four days and is wearing an immobilizer brace until the follow up appointment in another week. The Pediatric Ortho told her to walk on it, bend it, stretch - anything she could do without pain but no running, jumping, playing soccer, etc. He armed her with a two week excuse for no PE and that's all we thought we needed.

Apparently not! Spawn of one of the nastiest most petty PTA twits is in her class. Yesterday, Spawn must have attained a medical degree because she announced that L'il Vinegar was faking her injury. Spawn didn't have the kahunas to say this to L'il Vinegar's face - no, she's her mother's child - she decided to tell announce all this in the typical Twit fashion - as petty nasty gossip!

L'il Vinegar has some pretty great little friends who immediately defended her to Spawn's lies, one told Spawn to shut up, and all told L'il Vinegar that Spawn was saying that. Now L'il Vinegar is her mother's child, too, and she decided to just confront Spawn and ask why she was saying that. Spawn sputtered and denied saying anything. L'il Vinegar said she just told her that she wasn't faking and walked away. L'il Vinegar relayed all this to me yesterday when I picked her up and I told her I was proud of the way she handled it. L'il Vinegar shrugged and said she really didn't care what Spawn thought about her but she didn't like people saying she was faking. Her logic was that she loves soccer and PE and recess and why would she purposely fake an injury to get out of something she enjoyed. Kid makes a lot of sense most days - yesterday was one of those!

Well, sometime between yesterday and this morning, Spawn cooked up some drama with her mama. Specifically she cried that L'il Vinegar was 'mean' to her and told others to be 'mean' to her, too. Considering Spawn's mother is the twit who accused me of being 'harsh' in my emails a few years back, of course she overreacted and escalated this to the most ridiculous event of 2011 thus far.

Spawn's mother emailed me this morning to tell me what a mean awful bullying poopyhead my child is! Spawn's mother copied the teacher and principal (Principle for the Twits). Because of course Spawn is a perfect, lovely, gifted, loving little child whose shit doesn't stink - NOT! The email stated that Spawn came home "devastated" and crying that L'il Vinegar was so mean to her and was bullying her. Oh REALLY? "Devastated"? Drama much? The school play isn't until next weekend - save it for the stage, sister!

I had to hit that handy dandy Reply All and answer with the truth about Spawn telling everyone that L'il Vinegar was faking her injury and that L'il Vinegar just asked her if she was doing it and that was it. I also proceeded to say if there was any bullying going on, it was the gossipy bullshit her Spawn was doing that was obviously taught by her bitchy twit mama (OK, I was nicer, but still. . .). I then invited Spawn's mother to call me and discuss it like rational adults rather than make accusations via e-mail and copy the free world (OK, not free world, and considering the response time the Twit Principle usually has, she probably hasn't read this yet, but still . . .).

Crickets are chirping now and the phone is gathering dust waiting for Spawn's mother to actually follow up on that invitation! Ten to one she's already told her fellow twits her version of this drama, put it up on her Facebook page, and send a dozen e-mails to her minions telling them what a bitch I am to dare question her or her spawn! WHAT-EVAH! Tell the flying monkeys to turn around, Twit, I really don't care what you or the minions think.

Funny thing is, the teacher replied all that she heard another child say Spawn had said that as well and she told Spawn to stop it even before L'il Vinegar confronted her. She also said she saw L'il Vinegar speaking to Spawn later in the day and there were no more instances after that. Basically she totally confirmed my story - rock on Mrs Fifth Grade Teacher!!!

Crickets continue to chirp. Do I dare hold my breath waiting for either an apology from Spawn's mother or a response from the Twit Principle? Nah!

Excellent teaching moment for L'il Vinegar about mean girls, Twits, and their spawn. After all, we've got middle school to look forward to next year - I'm sure the drama will continue. Sigh!

VM

Hello Sexism!!

2011-01-18T22:41:00.004-05:00

Mister Vinegar Martini had quite the chuckle about my latest tirade. Mister Vinegar Martini may not live to chuckle again!

I hit a level of irked beyond all get out this evening - over an address. Yes - over an address. I got my college alumni magazine this evening. I have enjoyed getting this since I graduated and kept my information current and updated with my marriage to Mister Vinegar (although if he keeps giggling about this, I'll be announcing my widow-hood) and our welcoming L'il Vinegar as well as all the gazillion job changes I've had. I've given money, I've networked, I've done the whole good alumni crap.

Well NO MORE! When I went to the mailbox this evening to retrieve my (formerly) beloved alumni magazine, I happened to notice who it was addressed to:

Mr. and Mrs. MISTER VINEGAR MARTINI

Oh, no, no HELL freaking NO! I - VINEGAR MARTINI - am the alum of that univerisity! I - VINEGAR MARTINI - am the one who paid for every freaking semester of that education. I - VINEGAR MARTINI - am the one who worked for the effing Alumni Association for four years on the telemarketing team raising money for beloved institution. And they freaking make me MRS. MISTER MARTINI? Look, I love the Mister and all that but he has never set foot on my beloved alma mater - yet they're on some kind of first name address basis with him? I THINK NOT!!!!

I'm pissed. Mister was chuckling and that got me pissed-er. (YES, in my pissed off Feminist world, that's a world - I double dawg dare you to contest it!) What 1960's freaking world is my Alumni Association living in? Mrs. Mister Martini? Screw you!

I'm writing them! Oh, I'll wait until I'm calm enough not to tell them I think they're a backasswards Leave It To Beaver throwback PTA Twit-esque institution who better get on their freaking knees and beg my forgiveness if they ever want to see a check from the likes of me again! But seriously, in this day and age, address the freaking thing to the person who actually graduated from said institution on things like this. Do the Emily Post route if you're inviting us to a wedding - if you want my money - I need a lot more sucking up - to ME not the Mrs ME!

You want my money and support - ask ME for it - not my husband...unless you really really REALLY want to piss me off. Oops, you just did!!

VM

Drop Kicking 2010 Right Outta Here!!

2010-12-31T09:50:00.003-05:00

Should old acquaintance be forgot. . . NOT!!! Get the hell out of my life 2010 and don't let the door hit you on the way out!

Not that 2010 sucked any worse than some of my other least favorite years - 2002 still reigns supreme in that department - but it was pretty rough in the Vinegar Martini household. We had two hospital stays, one major surgery, a job loss, medical insurance woes, two new jobs (well, one and a half since one was and still is the contract position), various assorted mini dramas with elementary school, soccer, the office and life in general. If there were resolutions set in 2010, they were not achieved. We are not thinner, richer, or younger - although I'm not sure how to achieve the 'younger' part! No great milestones were reached - no outstanding feats were achieved. I guess our one great accomplishment was that we made it through another year. Yee freaking ha!

Now, normally I'm a glass half full kind of gal! So in that spirit, I'll close out this year with a few reflections back and resolutions forward:

First - I'm eternally grateful Mister Vinegar Martini is healthy - well, as healthy as the carnivorous BBQ loving dude can be with a quarter of his colon gone. Looking back on what we went through from March to May, the severity of the situation hits me harder now than it did then. Then we were just getting through to the surgery - today I realize how serious it was. I could have lost him - thank God I didn't! Hey, dude isn't perfect, but he's mine and I want him to live to be nagged and tortured by me for a long long time!

Second - some jobs just aren't worth it. The two new ones Mister Vinegar and I accepted back in November 2009 are prime examples. He worked for the biggest uneducated asshat on the planet and I worked with some of the nastiest bitches I've ever encountered. Between them all, I'm pretty sure we covered all the psychological disorders from obsessive compulsive narcissistic passive aggressive to completely delusional psychotic! When one spouse has a stressful work environment, it sucks - when both do - it's unbearable. Mister Vinegar was able to tell Junior the Asshat to shove it (well, he did it very professionally); I was just shown the door because the company was the most dysfunctional crock of crap ever! "Highly Effective People" - HA! Textbook lesson in how to take some great concepts and let screwballs mess it up is more like it!

Third - Medical Insurance companies suck! Oh, I'm not knocking the fact that we have health coverage - I now know that the operative word in that is "HEALTH" - meaning as long as you have it, you're fine. But heaven help you if you actually get sick or need surgery. Holy mother of pearl, I've never seen bills that large - that itemized - and that confusing. The surgeon billed for his time at $X - but some numbnuts in a cubicle up at United Healthcare decided that this surgeon's lifesaving skills were worth the algebraic formula ($X / 2) x 0.000087465 - $4,972.64 where "X" = Insurer ain't paying. Surgeons like to get paid and their billing departments are real quick to issue statements when Insurer starts with the algebra! The one saving grace here - colons can't be repo-ed. So we slug through the medical bills and give thanks as we grumble and write checks.

Finally - looking forward to 2011. Some bright spots - I'll finally be rid of that elementary school and the Twit Principle/PTA crew. L'il Vinegar officially becomes a tween and will start middle school (GASP) in the fall. And apparently in middle school, the school administration actually runs the place and they pretty much slam the door on these uber room mommy types - woo hoo!!!

I can say with 100% certainty that I will be starting a new job in 2001 - either finally hired from my contract position where I am now or with whatever other company I land an offer. I can't be this month to month contractor forever and eventually my current boss will actually have to make a decision - if I don't make it for him sooner!

Soccer will continue to rule as the sport of choice. Whether we stay with the current club or follow the coach to greener pastures remains to be seen. What I do know is L'il Vinegar loves this sport and is one of the most disciplined and dedicated ten year olds I've seen. I love watching her play this game and as long as it's making her this happy, I'll continue to be Soccer Mom Queen. Pass me the tiara and store your gear in the back of the Jeep - we're headed to practice!

As for the thinner, richer, happier, healthier typical revolutions we make every year - screw 'em! Not that I'm vowing to gain 20 pounds, booze it up every night and start smoking crack - I'll just take 2011 a little bit at a time - - after I put a steel toed cleat to the butt of 2010!!!

Hey, 2010 - hasta lavista, baybee - you're outttttaaaa here!!!!!

Happy New Year to all - let's make it better than the last one!

VM

My Christmas Dream Come True

2010-12-29T13:35:00.003-05:00

All my life, as far back as I can remember, one of the first things I did on Christmas morning was look out the window hoping to see a glistening white blanket covering everything out there. And every year, as far back as I can remember, I looked out a window to see the green green grass of home (well, kind of brownish since it was dormant during the winter).

Until THIS year!

Oh we heard the forecasts - complete with the convenient CYA for the meteorologist giving said forecast - that there was a chance of snow flurries on Christmas Day but surely Atlanta was too far south to actually have one of those lovely old fashioned white Christmases. I actually scoffed at the forecast - didn't stock up on the milk, bread or water and just tempted fate. When I woke up this Christmas morning - scratch that - when I was pounced upon by a very excited ten year old - I glanced outside and saw the green grass and dead leaves as I always did.

What was different this year was that Mister Vinegar Martini did decide to share his icky cold with me and of course, it hit me like a ton of bricks on - wait for it - Christmas Day! Fine. We did the Santa thing, the stocking thing, the family breakfast thing, and by the time all the things were over, it was maybe 9:30 am so this thing headed back to bed.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up two and a half hours later to see . .SNOW! Falling and accumulating. Apparently it started around 11am and it didn't let up until well after 6pm. When all was said and done, we had a beautiful 2 inch blanket of glistening snow all over the yard and finally, after many many years of wishing, wanting and hoping, I got my White Christmas.

Even if it came with a sniffling, sneezing, stuffy head, fever so I couldn't enjoy it cold - it came all the same!

VM

Fa La La La Whatever . .

2010-12-17T19:53:00.003-05:00

I started this holiday season pretty well. Did the decorating thing, got the tree, finished every last bit of shopping early enough to take that stress out of the season . . . and now - one week from the big day - I'm as Humbugged out as I can be.

I'm sick of the hype. Sick of the 'HUGE EVENTS' that surround this season. Sick of trying to cram everything into everyone else's schedule. Sick sick sick! Thank goodness I'm not literally 'sick' but Mr. Vinegar Martini is straddling that fence now which means long about Christmas morning, I should be literally as sick of the whole deal as I am rhetorically sick of it now!

Seriously, why do we make the holidays such a freaking EVENT? Why do people feel the need to bore the snot out of me with a long winded 'newsletter' about their perfect lives and perfect kids when the rest of the year they don't say squat or reach out one bit? Are the kiddies only perfect at the holidays - come on, call me in mid July and bitch about little Johnny being a pill! Let me know you have a REAL LIFE like the rest of us not this Norman Rockwell Christmas Card existence. Sell crazy some other holiday, sister, I ain't buying it this year!!

Why does the end of the calendar year have to be crammed with performances, pageants, events and parties laden with so much sugar every kid under the age of 12 is either on a total rush or so exhausted they're having a meltdown? Why does everything have to be so freaking IMPORTANT during this time of the year? L'il Vinegar's Room Twit about had heart failure at the possibility of school being closed due to ice and the Holiday Party being cancelled. Seriously, the emotion and panic in her e-mail the night before was almost laughable - save for the fact that she really was working herself up into a tizzy about not being able to fork out a few cupcakes and doing a few crafts with ten year olds. Get a life and stop making everything so damn CRUCIAL!

It's Christmas. Comes about this time every year. It's on the calendar all year long - plan for it, enjoy it, but most of all, just relax and let it happen. It doesn't matter if the kiddies have a holiday party; or if you get the perfect wrapping paper to match the tinsel, or if you attend every flipping performance everyone has during this time of year. It doesn't matter if you get out one or nine hundred cards with the obligatory family photo and 'Seasons Greetings from The Blah Blah's" if you're sending them to people you don't bother to speak to during the year. Save the postage - get a Facebook page and keep everyone you give a rip about updated all the time not just with your self serving long winded boringass newsletter!

Eight days to go and I'm sick of the whole mess. Can I take down the tree and wait for the hype that is Valentine's Day now or do I have to wait until December 26th?

VM

Hallelujah!!!!

2010-11-24T10:19:00.003-05:00

I'M BACK!!!

Why retrieving my own blog became such an ordeal is beyond me but thank you Blogger people for sending me the password retrieval email to an email address I can actually access now! Whew!

See, I cancelled our age old mindspring email account a month ago and forgot to change the email for this blog so it was literally an act of Congress to get someone to respond with instructions on how to migrate this sucker to the new email address. But it's done! YAY!

I've missed my venting sessions here - sob - it's so nice to be back! LOL

More later - I'm off to write down the log ins and passwords for the rest of my life so I don't find myself in this predicament ever again!

VM

Dear Village - BACK OFF!!!

2010-10-04T15:28:00.003-04:00

Look, yeah, in some cases, I buy into the whole "It Takes a Village" thing. I mean as adults we do have responsibility to protect children whether they’re ours or not. But when public school systems decide to intervene into my parental choices, I’m hunting down the village idiot and torching the place.

Specifically, it’s TESTING TIME at L’il Vinegar’s school this week and the drones at the district office have lost their little governmental minds again. I’ve gotten notes home, calling post voice mail messages and ‘friendly’ reminders from everyone from L’il Vinegar’s Principal (Principle for you PTA types), her teacher and the freaking Janitor to make sure she gets a good night’s sleep and eats a healthy breakfast so she can be bright eyed and bushy tailed enough to meet requirements on the freaking test.

Pffft!

First off, I may not be mother of the year here but I honestly cannot think of a single time in her young life that I’ve kept her out partying until 3am and then plied her with cold pizza, Cheetos and a stiff Bloody Mary in the morning. I'm pretty sure I can handle a week of standardized testing for the fifth grade without all the friendly reminders from you administrative types! I really don't need the voicemails and cutesy notes home thankyewverymuch!

I'm not going in there and shadowing the Twit Principal/Principle and reminding her to walk upright or breathe (because frankly I don't think she does much more than that in a given work day), so she doesn't need to get all up in my business about what time I put my offspring to bed or whether she has Cheerios or Corn Flakes for breakfast! In other words, back off! I got it covered. Now go walk upright, breathe and if you get around to it in this decade, how about answering the question I asked you in an email five weeks ago! Twit!

VM

For Inquiring Minds . . .

2010-09-28T23:30:00.003-04:00

So ever since my "S-E-X" post, I've gotten a few (48 at last count) e-mails from the more curious (nosey) of y'all wanting to know what was the incorrect version I had to correct.

Well here it is.

According to little miss know it all in the fifth grade, S-E-X is when a lady takes off all her clothes and gets into a car with a man. They jump around and make the car go back and forth then the man's 'pee pee' turns into a popsicle and the lady eats it!

SERIOUSLY?

How terrifying would this be to a ten year old who a) knows nothing about S-E-X and b) loves popsicles? And how much self control do you think I had to muster up not to laugh my ass off when my sheepish ten year old came to me asking if this was true? Of course I had to share this with Mister Vinegar who has been keeping tabs - albeit from afar - on how I'm dealing with these mother daughter moments. A bit too smirky if you ask me. Soooooooo . . . since I am the most evil wife in the entire world . . .

I had to remind him that I love banana popsicles and Mister Vinegar thinks they are disgusting, We'll see how fast he changes that tune - ha ha ha ha !!!!!!!

VM

Let's Talk About S-E-X . . . and Santa?

2010-09-27T22:49:00.003-04:00

YIKES! My ten year old now knows every 'icky 'detail about how she got here. And she still thinks Santa will answer her e-mails.

What's wrong with this scenario?

She is ten. She's on the edge of puberty but not there yet. She thinks boys are gross but at the same time has a wee bit of a crush on one. She now knows what 'S-E-X' is, but she still believes in Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. She still thinks she can e-mail Santa to ask how her elf is and whether or not Zooflie can get her e-mails.

Did I mention she now knows about S-E-X?

Thanks to the obnoxious know it all problem kid in her class who decided to educate (incorrectly) anyone within earshot about the birds and bees my ten year old came up to me a week ago and sheepishly asked a question that almost made me laugh. Except that it came from my ten year old! OK - serious parenting test here - do I freak and scar her forever or do I act like 'hey, no big deal, free love' and scar her forever. Meanwhile, I'm freaking out, trying not to blush, and now totally getting why my own mom avoided this face to face confrontation! Oh holy crap - we've done it now!!!!!!!

So I did what every red blooded embarassed as hell Surburban mom would do - I deferred this by giving her an option. I could get a book that we would both read and then we could talk about it or I could just talk to her about it right then and there. Mercifully, my child chose option A - get her a book! WHEW!

After much book research and some first hand (read -plop my ass down on the floor at the local Barnes and Noble and read the damn thing cover to cover) experience, we opted for this book - which was perfect!!!! Oh thank you thank you thank you . . . oh wait, she has to read this! YIKES!

So she did. Willingly. And I waited for the reaction. Which was priceless. I asked her what she thought and she said she was 'grossed out' . I told her it was OK to be 'grossed out' - and that I felt the same way when I first found out. I also told her that I'd prefer her be 'grossed out' at her age than have the reaction of 'oh wow, I must go try this NOW'! But still, holy crap - she KNOWS!!!!

We actually ended up having a very productive conversation about the subject - something I never had with my mom so maybe I get parental points for this one. Times are so different now - I told her that. In fact, I told her that having 'S-E-X' didn't make you an adult at all and that when she got to middle school or high school or even college, some friends of hers may think that. Then I came clean - I told her that I didn't do that in middle school or high school - and my ten year old threw her arms around my neck and said 'Thank You!". She was relieved???!!!!

Holy cow - she's ten! And she was relieved to find out her mom didn't screw everything in sight in middle school or high school. Should I be relieved or proud - - or both???

I'm a little of both - as well as embarrassed and sad - my little girl isn't a little girl anymore. Oh physically she is .. emotionally she is. But intellectually, she's growing up too fast for me. But I guess as long as I'm on that same roller coaster with her, we'll be OK.

But how weird it is - she knows about S-E-X but still believes in Santa? If that's not a sign kids are growing up way too fast these days, nothing is!!!!

VM

Neal Boortz's Education on Soccer

2010-09-03T14:41:00.004-04:00

You know I love me some Talkmaster but the one thing Neal and I disagree on is his view on soccer. He'll say it's a wussy sport that overprotective mommies put their kids in to protect them from the big mean American Football playing thugs. Oh I know who he's talking about, those mini-van driving, capri wearing, PTA twit types who want little Chauncey to get some exercise but not too much - so they put him in recreational soccer at the local Y or soccer club. These are the chickies who show up at the field in full makeup toting spare kid(s), snacks, and every electronic babysitting device ever invented to keep spares from wrecking havoc on little Chauncey's game. Them. The Clintonesque Soccer Moms of the late 90's. Them! We hate THEM!

Sorry to burst your little Libertarian bubble there, Neal, but that kind of soccer isn't what this suburban working mama's baby girl plays. She and her fellow twenty-three 10 year old teammates are tough cookies who can run with the big dawgs and kick some butt while doing it! These little girls practice twice a week and play up to four hour-long games in one weekend - sometimes in sweltering heat - sometimes in downpours. But they play! They wear shin guards - not shoulder pads, back pads, knee pads, elbow pads and helmets - SHIN PADS! That's it - just protected shins - nothing else. There are no time outs, no halftime bands, no clock stoppage to make an equipment change - they compete against fellow little girls on another team and against an ever ticking clock. They run miles - not yards - freaking MILES - and do planks and sit ups Jillian Michaels would be proud of!

They practice and play hard - and sometimes they fall even harder. We've had twisted knees, sprained and broken ankles, broken arms, wrists and fingers, and on one occasion, a concussion from a waywardly kicked ball. And these little girls weather that, get back up and get back out there as soon as doctors' allow them to. Because you just don't tell an athlete to back off - and that's what they are - - ATHLETES! Not some padded little Chauncey out for a Saturday afternoon excursion with a juice box and cookie waiting at the end of it!

So, Neal, you know I love you more than my luggage, but next time you decide to diss on some soccer playing kids and their over protective mommies, could you please clarify that you're talking about the wussified Clinton Soccer Mom's babies - not my tough as nails pigtailed athlete and her twenty-three 'sisters'! Or you can come out and join them for a practice - just make sure your medical insurance is paid up because they may seriously kick your Talkmaster rear end!

VM

Monolithic Insanity

2010-08-17T15:24:00.005-04:00

What a great descriptive of what it was used to describe - the cubicle! And by the inventor no less!! Don't believe me - read it HERE!

Look, this isn't one of my typical bitch about my job posts. I like it here! I am grateful as hell to a) have a job; b) have THIS job; and c) have THIS job THIS close to home! And I've come to accept the fact that the bigger the company, the more opportunities there are, the more money there is, and the more likely that they're going to cram as many of us into the most efficient use of workspace possible - hence the lovely cubicle! Thankfully here, we've got a couple of things going for us.

First - high walls! Hey - I worked in that rat maze that is the low cube walls before - it sucked. At least here you have some semblance of privacy and mystery as to what smell or sound is lofting from the wall on the other side of you. One other plus here is the walls aren't so high you don't get at least a glimpse of the windows so there is a smidge of natural light around here!

Second - even though we're stacked five deep, they labeled us nicely - by STREETS! Seriously - I'm on First Street - fourth cube back! Pencil me in because we move often but yeah, I have a work address beyond the physical mail stop! And to give you an idea of what a bigass place this is, we have FORTY TWO streets. The circumference of this office is a full quarter mile! If I was so inclined, I could do four laps at lunch and call that sucker a mile! But I'm not so inclined so there!

Now the downside of cube land - and the monolithic insanity of the whole deal - are two things - smell and noise. Smells can be contained pretty well - there's the ever unspoken rule about office break rooms - NO FISH - EVER! I don't care if you're a freaking prize winning bass fisherman, if you catch that shit, keep it home! Microwaved day old fish reeks. Microwaved day old fish reeks worse when it's tossed in a desk trash can after lunch! Don't do it! We can nip the smell thing in the bud - er - nose - pretty well. The sound thing - eh, not so well!

We don't play radios - although we're all rocking out on iPods and streaming music on the laptops - and we keep the decibel level down on conversations etc. The problem is the other technology. Some numbnuts here must have gotten a deal on factory second keyboards because these suckers are loud as hell! Add to that most of us have lightening fast typing skills and the clack clack clack of the keyboards here rival any 1950's steno pool of secretaries banging away on typewriters! HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL - even my boss commented one day when five of us were all typing furiously. The clack clack clatter was deafening. Of course HE has a door - we cube rats have to turn up the iPods!

Now please excuse me, it's time to charge the iPod - my cube mate on this street is about to re-type War and Peace so I need to fire up the longest playlist I can find!

Why I Suck As A Mom - An Opera In Three Acts

2010-08-05T20:10:00.004-04:00

Act One
L'il Vinegar lost a tooth while we were on vacation. Mister Vinegar and I convinced her that the Tooth Fairy a) didn't know we were on vacation; b) couldn't get to the vacation spot due to the fact she'd need a gate pass to get in and would most likely be recognized and mobbed by tourists or the paparazzi; and c) (the truth) we didn't have the handy dandy dollar coins handy that Ms. TF usually leaves. So L'il Vinegar obliged her parents and we hauled said tooth home. Leading me to our second act.

Act Two
We arrived home, L'il Vinegar was thrilled to see the Vinegar Cat and then immediately found her Tooth Fairy Pillow to put said tooth into to await Ms. TF's visit. Oh - and I neglected to mention that the reason we hauled it home from vacay early was because L'il Vinegar started school today - Thursday - August 5. Yes, I said August 5 - not September - not late August, freaking stupid school district decided to start the first week of August because, you know, it's a balmy 98 degrees and the kiddos really need to be sitting on a non-air conditioned bus for the ride to school. But I digress - the start of the school year is not the reason I suck. Continue with Act Two . .

The main reason we convinced L'il Vinegar to bring the tooth home was that we didn't have the dollar coins Ms. TF usually leaves. And me, being the sucky mom I am, ASSumed I had a few of those tucked in my sock drawer. Well - along about 11pm last night, sucky mom (that'd be ME) discovered there were no dollar coins to be had anywhere in the Vinegar household! Oh crap! And while Mister Vinegar glared at me for being such a sucky mom, I devised a wonderful sucky mom plan. Go into L'il Vinegar's room, into her super sekret hiding place for Tooth Fairy coins, 'borrow' a dollar coin stick that in the Tooth Fairy pillow. Yes, I re-gifted my kid her own Tooth Fairy funds! To ease my sucky mom guilt, I did throw a $5 bill in there - you know - for the start of FIFTH grade (yeah, it's a stretch but she bought it).

TEENSY problem this morning - sucky mom (again, that'd be ME) forgot to remove the tooth from the Tooth Fairy pillow. Luckily, L'il Vinegar was enthralled with the coin and fiver so I was able to slip the tooth out unbeknownst to L'il V. Yeah - I suck.

Oh but wait - Act Three gets even better.

Remember how I mentioned today was the first day of school? All my Facebook friends had cute photos of their little darlings in shiny brand spanking new outfits all decked out for their first day of whatever grade they were entering at the moment. And then there's sucky mom (ME!). Kidlet went to school in an old (albeit clean and pressed) outfit and nary a photo was shot!

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I suck - in three acts! The Fat Lady has sung - Elvis has left the building - I'm outta here - but tomorrow is another day!!!

VM

My Baby

2010-07-04T22:41:00.003-04:00

My baby girl turned ten last week. I did not handle it well. Ten years. A freaking decade. Where the hell did the time go?

Mr. Vinegar took the day off work and he and I took her to Toy Story 3. Bad idea! Really really bad idea. Oh not due to crowds or cost (minimal and eh, worth it) but I defy any adult with a child of any age NOT to cry at that movie - and said child(ren) will be completely mortified by your sniffling and sobbing.

Holy crikey - I was already a wee bit of a basket case at the prospect of that baby of mine turning ten - then to see a 3D reminder of the inevitable? Tito, pass the tissues!!! Other than my sniffling moments, it's an adorable wonderful movie and it meant a lot to me since waaayy back when, before Mister and L'il, I fell in love with Pixar. I have VHS tapes of the first few Pixar Movies and I expect them to be buried with me one day! Toy Story 3 is a triumph and tribute to what they can do and how far they've come!

And overall, Baby Girl - aka L'il Vinegar - had one heck of a birthday. She even told me so as she drifted off that night after a very long and exciting day of movie, lunch, grandmother, soccer camp and homemade birthday cake courtesy of Mr. Vinegar Martini. And I think it is incredibly special that L'il Vinegar gets her birthday cakes homemade by her daddy every year - we're not being cheap - Mr. Vinegar ROCKS in the kitchen - even if it's me that ends up cleaning it up!

So maybe it's the post one week partum tenth birthday thing, or maybe I just freaking love my kid, but I miss my baby right now. She's at her grandparents (maternal) for a week. She'll have a blast and get to see her bud from soccer who's also visiting the beach paradise her maternal grandparent choose to live in - but the long long drive home was lonely for me. I was excited to see Mr. Vinegar and it's nice to have some grown up time with my hubby. But I just freaking love my kid - and love spending time with her even more. So a week without - is like a week without my little partner. I'll be fine - and I suppose it's one good way to 'practice' for the day little partner flies the coop like in Toy Story 3. And expect the same level of tears from me then.

If you have a child - and haven't seen Toy Story 3 yet - go! And bring tissues!

VM - one sappy mess this week - snarky cynicism will return after this brief interlude

YIKES!!

2010-06-27T22:51:00.004-04:00

So sorry for the delay - lots of stuff going on here!

1. My job was 'eliminated' back on April 30 - yeah yeah - 'eliminate' this, creeps! Once again a company cannot see that you actually have to have a freaking PLAN to succeed! You know that definition of insanity - doing the same thing over and over yet expecting different results? Well this organization took that to extremes - do the same thing over and over, expect different results, and blame marketing for the failure! Yeah - fine OK whatever! Good luck with that.

I did endure the most passive aggressive be-atch on the planet while I was there so there's that! Some people exist in your career to show you what never to be - thanks for that, Mrs. Passive Aggressive Be-atch!

2. So I got a contract job with another company - little did I realize that it was the most screwed up industry run by the most idiotic individual on the planet! This dude actually thought some bogus e-mall gift card was reason enough for people to flock to his commodity product. Um - no! Dufus doesn't listen to my suggestions, steals my ideas then terminates my contract. Oh and turns out he handed my entire report over to a NEW marketing contractor the next business day! Seriously??? This is his MO - 'hire' people, get them to do some work for free or cheap, let them go and repeat cycle. Definition of insanity -part two! I only hope Karma catches up to this moron - SOON!!

3. Job market is if-y here -I'm applying for much and getting little - so send positive thoughts and prayers - must find something soon!!!!

Typical snark to follow!

VM

Reality Television Meet Reality

2010-05-14T09:43:00.003-04:00

Too funny - and true - not to share

THE NEXT SURVIVOR SERIES

Six married men will be dropped on an island with one car and 3 kids each for six weeks.

Each kid will play two sports and take either music or dance classes.

There is no fast food.

Each man must take care of his 3 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, complete science projects, cook, do laundry, and pay a list of 'pretend' bills with not enough money.

In addition, each man will have to budget enough money for groceries each week.

Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives, and send cards out on time--no emailing.

Each man must also take each child to a doctor's appointment, a dentist appointment and a haircut appointment.

He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to the Emergency Room.

He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a school function.

Each man will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside, and keeping it presentable at all times.

The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done.

The men must shave their legs, wear makeup daily, adorn themselves with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep fingernails polished, and eyebrows groomed.

During one of the six weeks, the men will have to endure severe abdominal cramps, backaches, headaches, have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties.

They must attend weekly school meetings and church, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.

They will need to read a book to the kids each night and in the morning, feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair by 7:30 am.

A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information:

each child's birthday
height
weight
shoe size
clothes size
doctor's name
the child's weight at birth
time of birth and length of labor
each child's favorite color
middle name
favorite snack
favorite song
favorite drink
favorite toy
biggest fear
what they want to be when they grow up

The kids vote them off the island based on performance.

The last man wins only if... he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a moment's notice.

If the last man does win, he can play the game over and over and over again for the next 18+ years, eventually earning the right to be called Mother!

**
Happy belated Mother's Day to all us multi-tasking Mammas!

VM

CAUTION - Enter At Your Own Risk

2010-05-10T08:06:00.005-04:00

I can only hold it together for so long and I’m about to blow so those of you with delicate constitutions or who are easily offended, back away from the screen and come back later.

For the rest of you, hang on. I hit a level of pissed off and frustrated I haven’t felt in a long time last night. The events of the past 12 days smacked me so hard it’s bound to leave a mark. First – and I can’t believe it took me this long to blog it, but what I knew would happen did – my job was ‘eliminated’. Nice sanitized way to say the stupid company I worked for since November doesn’t want to change their go-to-market strategy and wants to redefine the definition of insanity as “doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results – and blaming the Marketing Chick in the process”. I wasn’t surprised – I wasn’t upset. I had hoped that I’d be able to walk in there first and tell them they were antiquated morons still trying to sell the way cheesy time shares are sold, but alas, they beat me to the punch.

I’m fine – got a paycheck and a severance and a couple of things are out there for me so I’m crossing my fingers and trying my damndest not to invoke some kind of karma that would prevent me from landing on my feet sooner than later. It’s hard – in fact I deserve a freaking Nobel Peace Prize for not doing what I’d have loved to done on my last day at work. I wanted to leave a few well placed but hidden unpeeled hard boiled eggs in the office of the most Passive Aggressive Beatch I’ve ever worked with – but karma and logic prevailed. My Facebook status that very day was ‘Revenge may be a dish best served up cold, but karma is always piping hot.’ So, no eggs for PAB – damn, would have been a doozie, too, huh?

Second – Mister Vinegar had his colon surgery on Friday. We have had 8 weeks to prep for this and we – rather he – was ready. Still it’s a scary thing to sign consent forms, release forms, and in his case, be knocked the hell out to have someone rooting around in your gut for four hours, and in my case to sit in a hospital waiting area for six hours. Fun time were had by all let me tell you that! My in-laws were there with me for part of the time; my mom called and was by the phone if I needed her. I did and both sets of parents were great! I also have some wonderful friends – real and online – who constantly texted or Facebooked me their thoughts, prayers and concerns. For that, I’m grateful, I thank you and you’ll never know what that meant.

But what has pissed me off right now is that someone who SHOULD have called hasn’t contacted me at all. Of all the gajillion ways to reach out to someone, I got nuttin from this person. Poor thing must have had a dead cell battery, been deep in the sticks where there was no broadband, pay phones, carrier pigeons or anything. Perhaps person was trapped under something heavy and desperately trying to find out how things were going here. Nope – I know exactly where person was and that is what pisses me off more. Hey, Person, I wouldn’t want to drag down your good times there – sorry for being so selfish! I’ll try to have my family crisis at a more convenient time for you next go round, OK? (Sad thing is that very person could read this right now and have zero clue it’s about them – selfish twits are that self absorbed – how sad).

I could continue with my List of Stuff I’m Not Happy About but I have to go to deal with the reality of my life – a reality that isn’t fun and happy times at the moment but they’ll come back. We’ll all be shitting rainbows and flowers soon – well, Mister Vinegar may not be since he’s missing a foot of his colon right now but I’m sure there’s adequate fiber in rainbows so it may be added to his diet post surgery!

I'll get over this little black raincloud soon - I have no choice - like everything else I have to deal with - I have no choice - I must DEAL!

VM

SERIOUSLY??????

2010-04-24T23:51:00.004-04:00

Oh My GOSH! Twits scare the crap out of me.

My school district is facing a budget crisis and actually asked for opinions on the district website - which I, of course, took full advantage of and you can find my opinons on page 95 of the 1,733 page PDF posted on their website.

But seriously - SERIOUSLY? One of the options given was a four day school week and the twits - are saying that's a great idea. One even went so far to say that we should eliminate para-pros in the schools and just rely on parent volunteers.

Yeah - I want that - parents - oh, scratch that - the twits who stay home and can't freaking spell things like 'Principal', 'you're', or 'peek' - yeah, them - I want those parents helping to instruct my child? Please - let's implement that change right this very second! NOT!!!!!

Back to the four day week thing - I'm livid! LIVID!!!!! This freaking state is already a whopping 49th out of 50th in education and they want to freaking REDUCE that?" Because the twits want to have a long weekend with the kiddies? Screw that!!!!!

OH - not that my rant matters right now - the majority of the comments - whether from working parents or stay at home ones was NOT - I repeat NOT to cut teachers and lo and behold the stupid idiots on my school board have announced plans to cut 600 teachers - this from a school district who's superintendent took a huge pay RAISE!!!!!!!!!!!

I loved this one - a twit actually suggested that we show the kids in elementary school reruns of Andy Griffith and Leave it to Beaver! Yeah - let's keep fostering that illusion of the 1950's family!!

I'm THIS CLOSE to calling John Stossel! This is such BS! And governmental waste!

Ugh - and you wonder why I call myself an anarchaist??

VM

I Choose . . .

2010-04-18T22:47:00.003-04:00

Such simple words.

Such powerful words.

I can choose my attitude - my wardrobe - my hairstyle. Can I truly "choose" myself - my sexuality? The argument amongst the conservative crew is that people "choose" the homosexual lifestyle. Yeah, right.

See, I know a bunch of crazy nutso people, and I bet you a gazillion dollars not a one of them would 'CHOOSE" ridicule, segregation, discrimination, or abuse!!! Who in their right mind would 'choose' to put themselves in such a position to be less than a citizen when it comes to marriage or medical rights?

And yet. . .

An old friend has informed me recently that she prefers women to men.. She happens to be going through a difficult period in her marriage - her husband is less than responsive and she's made a new friend and close connection with another woman. And now she prefers women. Or so she says.

Who am I to question her choices? Maybe it IS that easy - I Choose . . .

I can't fathom it right now. I hope - sorry if this seems insensitive and crass - I hope I never 'fathom' this. I love my husband. He pisses me off more than any human being on the planet but by gosh, he also makes me feel better about myself, makes me laugh, makes me happier than any other human being on earth. I can't fathom anything that would make me say "I Choose" anything other than him.

And yet . . .

My friend is happy. My friend has a light in her we haven't seen in years.

Maybe we have more of a 'choice' in our lives than I thought???

Who knows?

VM

The Passing of My Sitcom Hero

2010-04-11T11:07:00.006-04:00

If only this was a REAL candidate.

Political Debate

Godspeed, Dixie Carter - Julia Sugarbaker was one amazing character!!!! That character was the closest to a perfect match of my personality and politics than there will ever be in film or in real life!

VM

Spring has Spring - Sniff Sniff Cough Gasp

2010-04-07T08:48:00.003-04:00

Holy Allergy Season, Batman - the pollen count here today is over 5,000! Yes, friends and neighbors I wrote FIVE THOUSAND! 5,733 to be exact and Lord knows we need to calculate every single sinus clogging molecule right now.

Right now, every car, every sidewalk, every exterior thing is covered in this icky yellow dust. Thing is, the icky yellow stuff - a.k.a. pine pollen - isn't the gunk that ends up stuffing us up. Nooooo - that'd be too easy - see it, hose it off, be gone with it! The real culprits in this equation are the invisible Super Sekret Evil Villian Pollens we can't see. In the immortal words of Dean Wormer, "I hate those guys" (with regard to the Super Sekret Evil Villian Pollens, that is).

I haven't hit the miserable rock bottom yet. Yesterday I Facebooked this:

If I'm going to have a headache of this magnitude, there should have been
tequila involved not pollen!!

Tequila I can handle. Super Sekret Evil Villian Pollens, I cannot! Tito, pass me a tissue!

VM

I Need Healthcare Reform!

2010-03-23T12:06:00.003-04:00

Forget ObamaCare - because it's all about ME right now!!!

Someone smarter than me explain this one:

Back in December, both Mr. Vinegar Martini and I started new jobs. I started two weeks before he did so we were covered by his old health care insurance and mine kicked in on day one. The benefits here at New Company pretty much suck so I opted for the cheapest option for health care - a high deductible health care savings account - knowing we'd switch over to Mr. Martini's new coverage after 30 days.

Once we got on his plan, I hounded him to get the proof of coverage so I could drop mine. Apparently 'hounding' to him means ask again in a month and he finally got around to it. When I called my insurance company to drop, they said I was out of the grace period and would have to wait for open enrollment - NEXT JANUARY!!! They did say I could contact my HR department and try to get an exception - so I did.

Turns out, HR would love nothing more than to have me drop this coverage since the New Company pays for 80% of the costs. Teensy problem though - Insurance Company's contract won't let them let me drop. So why did Customer(no)Service chickie tell me to call HR? I guess to be the sadistic jerk that she's trained to be. HR told me it was a law that they couldn't allow me to drop my own coverage - hmmm, sound familiar?

Seriously, now I'm paying for something I have no desire to use, no need to use, and never intended to use in the first place. It was filler so we'd have continual coverage - nothing more. And now, apparently, the Martini household is breaking some other law by being doubley covered - or so I'm told.

So let's get this straight, even before the ObamaCare crap kicks in, I am forced to pay for insurance I don't want, I can't drop, and I technically am breaking the law by even having. When I was reviewing the monstrosity that the House screwed the American People with this weekend - and yes, I did review it - probably read more of the 2,309 pages than the assholes in Congress who voted for it - well, my case right now sounds about like what we'll all be experiencing real soon. How special am I for experiencing it first! Joy.

If you're so inclined, you can put yourself to sleep by reading the whole mess - HERE.
Or you can read one guy's interpretation of it in plain English - HERE.

Either way, we're all in a big mess right now. And I'll be paying for mine up until January when I can drop that and go on this lovely government program - GAG!

New mantra - DON'T GET SICK - EVER!!!!!!!!!!!

I'd Like To Slam The Academy

2010-03-15T14:50:00.004-04:00

The Oscars are one week old now so I can offer up the real criticisms not the fluffy crap of who wore what by whom and how hideous Sandra Bullock's lipstick was. There's no George Clooney sulk or Kanye interruption now -just me offering up the most boneheaded blunder in Academy history.

Don't think me morbid, but one of the sections of that broadcast I like watching is the 'In Memorium' tribute to those who have left us during the year since the last broadcast. Yes, the Academy has to list the dozen or so mostly unknown producers or cinematographers the general public wouldn't know if they fell on us - but the bulk of the tribute is always to the 'stars' - the actors and actresses we knew - and watched - and probably forgot were dead if they kicked the bucket months before the broadcast. So this year when the producers of the Academy Awards cued up that little segment, I was watching to see who I knew - knowing I remembered a few and I expected them to be in there.

Well imagine my surprise when the esteemed Academy decided to pay tribute to Michael Jackson and Brittney Murphey instead of Farrah Fawcett and Bea Arthur! HUH? No disrespect to the dearly departed here but Jacko and Britto expired amid much speculation of drug use and overdoses. Granted so did Heath Ledger the year previously and they awarded him the freaking Oscar so why was I remotely shocked the Academy would have shown any less restraint with the tributes.

But still - to leave out these two actresses - granted known more for television than for movies but come one - Bea Arthur starred opposite Lucille Freaking Ball in Mame for goodness sake - Brittney Murphy peaked in Clueless and did a film with Ashton Kutcher - I think Bea pretty much kicked Britt's butt in the talent department here. Farrah was in a movie every single decade of my life so far while Michael either appeared as himself in some pretty low budget B movies or attempted a film career with one of the most God awful movies ever made - The Wiz. Not that Farrah was ever in an Oscar condending film either but Cannonball Run versus The Wiz - Cannonball wins hands down.

The esteemed Academy said that they purposely left out those two because they were mostly known for television roles. And we all know no actor or actress EVER makes the transition from television to film and actually win an Oscar - ahem - Tom Hanks, Robin Williams, Denzel Washington, Helen Hunt, Sally Field, Cher, Hilary Swank, Jamie Fox, Morgan Freeman, Marisa Tormei, Mo'Nique.

Yeah - let's don't honor anyone mostly known for television, Academy people. Guess the new criteria is how nutty the National Enquirer quotient on the dearly departed is at the time of broadcast.

RIP Farrah and Bea - you deserved a tribute last week!

VM

Fundraising Twits!

2010-02-22T19:59:00.004-05:00

So the Twits at L'il Vinegar's school have taken on the daunting task of raising $40,000 for a new gym floor. FORTY GRAND! They haven't raised (risen?) half that in the entire time L'il Vinegar has been at that school. But by gosh and current economic downturn be damned, they're going for it. Twits are kind of cute when they're that clueless. Like little fuzzy very stupid puppies.

Now, you'd think (because the Twits apparently cannot) that to achieve such a lofty goal, you'd have some serious kickass fundraising idea, wouldn't you? Something fresh, exciting, huge revenue generating that would easily get the forty grand they aspire to. Yeah well, what you think isn't in the Twit world that is my child's school.

See, last year they did a Boosterthon Fun Run. It was this huge event where this company came in with inflatables and music and did an organized chaotic race around the track with the kids and faculty. From what I heard, it was a blast and we had a decent response because it was different from the old 'silent auction' standby they'd done for a gazillion years. Only the Twits forgot to read the fine print.

Because this was a PROFESSIONALLY RUN event, it went off without a hitch. Was very well organized, communication was clear and concise, and they had this online pledging system that rocked! Only Twits forget that PROFESSIONALLY RUN means someone has to be paid for being the professional running it. And the Twits whined and squealed that the big mean professional company got to keep some of our money! Boo freaking hoo.

Those twits couldn't have pulled off a fun run if their little boring lives depended on it but they balked and decided that next year they'd do it BETTER! Well let me tell you what 'better' means to a twit. This year's huge forty thousand dollar fundraiser is . . . . drum roll please . . . . a 'Read-A-Thon'.

THUD!

I'll have what they're having. A 'Read-A-Thon' will generate $40K? Well yeah if you're pledging a dollar a page and every kid in the school is tackling "Atlas Shrugged" or something. But wait - there's more. It's not really a 'Read-A-Thon' in the sense that you're paying the kids to read. They're being read TO. In six stations. By parents and teachers. So technically doesn't that make this a 'Listen-A-Thon'?

To get to this lofty $40K goal, Twits figured that if every single kid in the school got pledges of $30 per station, we'd easily hit our mark. Teensy problem there - that means every kid in the school is getting $180 in pledges and God help the parent (or in the case of Chickie Breeding Twit - DON'T) with multiple kids in that school.

As per their clueless Stepford usual idiocy, Twits are ASSuming that every family can squeeze out $180 from friends, neighbors or themselves. Forget that unemployment is up over 10% in the country and in our area, too. Forget that there are still homes in foreclosure right down the street from the school. And forget that there's no way on God's Green Earth that I'm coughing up $180 so some illiterate PTA bitch who told me I 'spelt' something wrong can read to my kid!

They have lost their freaking minds. And I know we'll get the whiny ass e-mails about 'please please get those pledges in . . for the CHILD-REN!'. Oh go eat dirt! This isn't some fly infested kid in a third world country starving to death without your monthly pledge. It's for a freaking Gym floor - that - if the Twits had the ability to READ the national PTA publications (yes, I read!) they'd have known about the grant they could have applied for to get the school a completely overhauled gym and PE equipment. Heck, there are grant applications for everything! Get someone who can 'spelt' the freaking school name and form a complete sentence to fill out a few and we might just get some funding.

But no - apparently in Twit-land, it's easier to stage your own half ass fundraising 'Read-A-Thon'. Good luck with that, girls. Think you can manage to read at the second grade level so the kids don't know what utter dumb asses you are while they're forced to sit there all day and listen to you prattle on?

If I didn't have a mandatory meeting tomorrow, I'd make it my own 'Take Your Daughter To Work So She Doesn't Have To Be Exposed to Twits' day. Sadly, L'il Vinegar will have to suffer through - she's tough - she can handle it. And I cannot wait to hear how successful the day went!

Right!

VM

Mean Girls

2010-02-09T10:44:00.003-05:00

You'd think by the time we hit the corporate world and the ripe old age of 40+, the mean girls would have grown the hell up. Sadly - not so. I work now along side the meanest of all mean girls who should have grown up decades ago.

Oh you wouldn't know it to look at her. She's attractive, well dressed, articulate - she hides the horns and tail quite well because underneath the designer duds, she's a She Devil! Nothing - and I mean NOTHING anyone does is good enough for SheDevil. Especially nothing I do. Thankfully I don't work for SheDevil but like most mean girls, she's so self absorbed that she thinks we all exist to serve her and her wishes. We're all minions and we do nothing to her standards.

Now, normally, someone like this would just be considered a complete PITA (that's Pain In The Ass not the pocket bread), but what makes this woman a true Mean Girl is the fact that she loves to call people (that'd be me) out for the most mundane of things in public (or in my case, in the weekly staff meeting). I've done fliers and e-mailers for her on a Tuesday and not heard a peep or critique until she gets in front of half a conference room of peers on the following Monday. Then and only then do I hear that the copy is all wrong or the graphics are fuzzy or it's just not on point. And then and only then do I hear the whining about how SHE had to drop everything to fix it and how SHE had to spend hours creating something on her own.

Quick disclaimer here - personally I believe if it takes you 'hours' do do any kind of simple graphic design or e-mailer, then you are a complete bumbling dumbass who has no business even attempting such things. Just sayin'!

I've tried to talk to SheDevil - to no avail. She has set in her mind that I'm a minion, I'm not worthy of her time, and I'm not up to her standards. Normally, I'd snap a big old 'Eff You' at this but unfortunately, I have to work with her - closely - and therefore I have a couple of choices here. Either suck it up and kill her with kindness (ain't gonna happen because I'm scared I'll choose the 'kill' part over the 'kindness' part); ignore the complaints and just continue on until she seethes in frustration or realizes she can't bully me (option A); or dazzle her with my marketing expertise and stunning creativity (Option B); or I could just scream "GROW UP" and let the cards fall where they may (Option C).

I'm waiting for an Option D - any suggestions? Understand I want/like/need this job so any yelling, bodily harm or corporate sabotage is probably out of the question if I wish to continue to stay here. I am considering super gluing everything to her desk just to hear her bitch about it but then I'd have to hear her bitch about it. Still weighing those options. Stay tuned . . .

VM

I can give L'il Vinegar advice on handling fourth grade Mean Girls - I'm not so good at dealing with the adult versions of them.

Ha ha ha ha - Very NOT Funny

2010-01-24T18:14:00.004-05:00

Mr. Vinegar Martini and I went to see Sinbad recently and witnessed two unfunny things. Oh, not from him - Sinbad is still hilariously funny and we enjoyed his observatory style of humor and giggled when he talked about things that hit waaayyy too close to home for us!

Unfunny Number One was the warm up act - some local female comedian with a last name of Rogers. If you're ever in a comedy club in Atlanta and some woman with Whoopie Goldberg-esque dreadlocks named something Rogers walks out - run - nay - SPRINT for the door. This chick is so unfunny it was, well, almost funny. Her material was all about her -which normally would be fine for a comedian, but in her case, she's a late in life lesbian who trashes her ex husband and compares herself to Whoopie and Ellen DeGeneres. Trust me, her only similarities to either are the hair and sexual preference respectively.

I've never witnessed an act being booed off stage but Ms. Rogers the UnFunny Lesbian was. Resoundly so. I felt kind of sorry for her - would have mustered up more but she was so unfunny and unwilling to throw in the unfunny towel, that it was downright uncomfortable. I think even Sinbad was a little miffed - he ended up coming on stage a full 15 minutes earlier than he'd planned. We know this because he said so and if Sinbad says it - it's so!

Unfunny Number Two was the chick who sat behind me. OH. MY. GOD - she had the worlds most annoying laugh - and loud. It was as bad as this:

Annoying Laughing Girls

Actually, it was worse because it was louder, higher pitched, and occasionally she'd shriek out before she started laughing. Single most annoying sound in the world - and we paid good money to sit in front of it! Oh joy!

But Sinbad - at 53 years young - is still pretty funny, very observant, and remarkably 'clean' with his language and content. Which may be what made him even funnier - he didn't need to resort to the shock factor like the Unfunny Lesbian did in the warm up act.

As for annoying laughing girl - that sound is forever embedded in my brain - if I ever hear it again, I may have to pull what the bartender in the video did!

VM

Stupid is as Stupid Does

2010-01-22T10:11:00.008-05:00

Greatest quote ever from Forrest Gump but I'd rather not have to live days where it's the norm anymore if that's OK!

Yesterday stupid was as stupid did and it about sent me over the edge.

First up, the car line at L'il Vinegar's school was the biggest exercise in frustration and idiocy ever. I sat there for 16 minutes barely moving and L'il Vinegar was marked 'Tardy' because of it. The reason the line barely moved was because the school - probably the Principal (Principle for you PTA types) - didn't crack open her brain to let any common sense in and realize that on rainy days, kids who usually walk to school - probably don't on those days. And since the kids who usually walk to school aren't walking, they're most likely in cars being dropped off since the whole reason they usually walk is because they're not a bus route hence the reason they're in cars on those days!

So, one - or at least one with a functional brain, should realize on the rainy or very very cold days, you will have MORE cars in the car line and maybe - just maybe, you could use a few extra bodies out there helping move it along? Not that this would really matter at L'il Vinegar's school since the extra bodies do absolutely nothing except stand there pissed off they're out there but occasionally, you get a staffer who 'gets' it and isn't one of those 'This Isn't My Job' types. And apparently yesterday was no exception because with the combination of rain, increased volume of cars and lack of willing helpers, the freaking line didn't move and at least 462 kids were marked tardy. (OK, maybe not 462, but a boat load trotted in there after the 7:45 bell so it was a lot!)

The school gets penalized for the tardies but refuses to add staff or have staff that will actually help move the car line! And I guarandamntee the Principal (Principle) will send out a whiny letter about 'getting your children to school on time' or some nonsense she's had drummed into her little educator head from the district office. This woman has the brain capacity and common sense of a turnip! Stupid is as stupid does!

But Principle Turnip is light years ahead of our next Stupidfest contestants - the numbnuts Home Depot delivery dudes who couldn't get the new washer/dryer we bought installed in our house. I wasn't home for this one and I'm still having a hard time calculating exactly what happened but since Mr. Vinegar Martini was part of it this equation, I'm not shocked that it turned into the flustercluck it did. I love the man but he has some strange habits and quirks that I just have to accept and/or ignore - like how he calculates a tip in a restaurant involves some kind of connect the dots math problem - don't ask!

Anyway, newly purchased washer and dryer were delivered some time after noon yesterday. Mr. Vinegar Martini most likely greeted Dufus 1 and Dufus 2 the delivery guys and let them in the house. The Dufuses (Dufusi?) then proceeded to easily remove the old washer and dryer without incident and place them on the truck to be hauled off. The problem came when they brought in the new appliances and announced that they wouldn't fit. Mr. Vinegar Martini repeatedly backed up that statement as gospel truth when I questioned him later. He also supposedly told the Dufusi to take the washer and dryer back to the store and we'd just go shopping for one that fit.

Side note: - since Mr. Vinegar Martini has this new job and works non stop, I'm not sure when he thought this 'we' would go shopping or if this 'we' was both of us or the standard ME it usually is. But I digress . .

Mr. Vinegar Martini then told the Dufusi that since they already had our old washer and dryer on the truck, to go ahead and take those, too. So let's do the math here - Customer (that'd be ME) purchases new washer and dryer from Home Depot. Dufusi deliver new washer and dryer and remove old washer and dryer. Husband then tells Dufusi to take back the new washer and dryer AND also take the old ones as well. So Customer just paid for something she didn't get AND gave away what she had. Home Depot has a new business plan - sell it - keep it - and steal it! Freaking BRILLIANT - I'm going to scarf up that stock right now!!

Seriously??? I was a Liberal Arts major back in the day so math isn't my thing but even I can grasp that this is not adding up right.

And apparently so did the Supervisor at Home Depot when I called him. See, he got a little miffed at the Dufusi because it's against Home Depot policy to sell it, keep it and steal it and he made that known on the phone with me! I also made it known on the phone with him that I wasn't giving Mr. Vinegar Martini a complete pass here either so Supervisor Guy and I made a deal - he agreed he wouldn't fire the Dufusi and I agreed I wouldn't kill Mr. Vinegar Martini. Just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

Meanwhile, I had to leave work, go home, get the original receipt and while I was there, I measured the exact dimensions of the laundry area and the opening to get into it. Armed with all this, I went to Home Depot to meet Supervisor Guy. And then the other math problems commenced.

With tape measure in hand, we started measuring the dimensions of the washer/dryer I bought and all the others in the store. Standard size is 27" inches wide. The dryer I bought was 29" wide - which, for all intents and purposes shouldn't have been a big deal since the size of the laundry area was 60" inches wide (27 + 29 = 56 - we've got 4 inches to spare) The size of the opening to the laundry area was 50" wide but since you have to install these things one at a time, you'd be able to put one in, smush it over and then put the other one in, right?

So Supervisor Guy and I were standing in the middle of the appliance section of my local Home Depot scratching our heads and wondering if the Dufusi tried to shove both the washer and dryer in at the same time through the 50" inch opening? We even drew it out on a scrap paper - the darn things should have fit perfectly. Adding to this math problem was the fact that the old washer and dryer - both 27" inches wide each - came OUT of the laundry area just fine - so we knew that size would fit no matter what.

Because I was now facing the fact I had NO washer and dryer at home, I decided to swap out for a set that was the same width - 27" inches. Luckily for me, the swap was an upgrade and Supervisor Guy didn't charge me the difference. Even luckier for me, Supervisor Guy realized the liability and risk Dufusi just put Home Depot in with the 'theft' of my old appliances, so he scheduled delivery of my new washer and dryer immediately - as in they put them on the truck immediately and got directions to my home. I, in turn, agree not to sue the bejeezus out of Home Depot for stealing my property - well, I didn't sign anything but it's implied since Supervisor Guy went above and beyond the call of duty.

And guess what friends and neighbors - everything fit perfectly. The two Home Depot employees who drove the truck and did the installation quizzed Mr. Vinegar Martini on the logistics of what happened earlier that day. Turns out the Dufusi put in the dryer - the LIGHTER of the appliances first and didn't smush it all the way to the wall. So the dryer - the HEAVIER of the two appliances wouldn't go in without destroying the folding door to the laundry area. The same folding door that COMES OFF the hinges for things like installing new washer and dryers. Dufusi didn't take the door off either. So the original set would have fit fine had the Dufusi had functioning brains! And the entire ordeal took four and a half hours from first phone call to final installation!

Stupid is as stupid does - and stupid did a lot to me yesterday!

VM

Feeling Stimulated Yet?

2010-01-20T09:47:00.004-05:00

Happy one year anniversary, President Obama! I hate to break this to you but I'm not nearly as optimistic and hopeful about your presidency as I was one year ago today. It's nothing personal, dude - it's just in my humble registered voter opinion, you've done nothing except talk and spend money. Oh don't worry, I don't blame you entirely, but you took that 'buck stops here' job so my buck is stopping there!

Speaking of bucks, let's look back at how you - or rather your stimulus plan - spent my hard earned money. If you're so inclined, you can peruse through a more detailed and better written report - 100 Stimulus Projects - A Second Opinion, or I can hit the highlights from my region:

$11.3 million - for renovations of bathrooms at Somerville Lake, Texas! I've often heard about the gazillion dollar toilet seats the government has purchased in the past - will they finally be put to use? Seriously, you could get a much better deal at Home Depot and the have this nifty no interest for a year on purchases over $299 thing going on now, too! Indoor plumbing is a great thing - I just can't agree with the good taxpaying folks of this country to fund new toilets.

Virginia will spend $340,000 on a rural bridge that carries only 20 cars a day. OK - now, if you made it a toll road with a 20 year payoff date, it's $2.33 per car per day which is still a pretty hefty toll, doncha think? And I just don't buy that the good taxpaying folks of this country should subsidize the locals' commute across that bridge.

South Carolina Department of Natural Resources will spend $1.7 million to grow oysters. And another $2.5 billion for the crackers and hot sauce to serve those suckers up on the half shell! Hey, I love me a good oyster roast, but I don't think the good taxpaying folks of this country should pay for it - unless you plan to invite all of them over, in which case, they better bring their own beer or we'll have to levy some new taxes to fund that kegger!

Memphis, Tennessee will spend $250,000 to rehabilitate a dilapidated laundromat. Speaking of Home Depot, they had some kickass deals on washers and dryers over the weekend and that 'no interest' deal was in effect for those, too. Based on what I spent there getting the Martini household our new set, the dilapidated laundromat could house upwards of several hundred washers and dryers! I know Memphis known for good barbecue and that stuff can get pretty messy, so I see how they may need a new un-dilapidated laundry facility. I'm all for clean clothes, just don't think the good taxpaying folk of this country should fork it over for the static free freshness for Memphis residents.

Oh but wait - there's more:

$462,000 to purchase 22 concrete toilets for use in the Mark Twain National Forest in Missouri (let's hope they have enough left over for some soft toilet paper to use there since they're forcing Mark Twain National Forest visitors to sit on concrete potties)
$1 million for Portland, Ore., to replace 100 aging bike lockers and build a garage that would house 250 bicycles. (wait, lockers AND a garage - is this Pee Wee Herman's bike?)
$1.3 million on government arts jobs in Maine, including $30,000 for basket makers, $20,000 for storytelling and $12,500 for a music festival. (does that include the price of crayons because I saw those suckers for less than $1 a Wal-Mart this weekend)
$6 million for a snow-making facility in Duluth, Minn.(Um, doesn't it already snow in Minnesota?)
$173,834 to weatherize eight pickup trucks in Madison County, Ill. (At over $21K per truck, buy a new freaking pickup instead)
$20,000 for a fish sperm freezer at the Gavins Point National Fish Hatchery in South Dakota. (I don't even want to know why a) we need fish sperm or b) why it needs to be frozen)
$300,000 for a GPS-equipped helicopter to hunt for radioactive rabbit droppings at the Hanford nuclear reservation in Washington state. (Holy glowing shit, how much does it cost just to look for the radioactive rabbit instead?)

I know, I know - this isn't new or unique to the Obama administration. This kind of pork crap has been happening since long before I became eligible to vote - but that doesn't make it right or acceptable. And for all the talk of 'Yes we can' and 'Change', President Obama hasn't done much of either. I'm only pissy because it's MY MONEY funding this crap - and I don't like it!

Apparently a few other registered voters don't either. President Obama's approval rating is falling and the good folks of Massachusetts decided to create their own 'Change' yesterday. We'll see if that's a good thing or just redistribution of political 'wealth'.

For Today - A Look Back

2010-01-18T10:29:00.005-05:00

It's another beautiful sunny day here and both L'il Vinegar and I are out of work and school respectively for the Martin Luther King Jr holiday. So far we have nothing and everything planned for today but I hope we can get one of our famous talk/walks in since the weather is finally cooperating. She's nine now - the talks are getting deeper - sometimes harder - but always a wonderful opportunity for me to see through her eyes and be there to help guide her.

And I'll always remember this:

http://vinegarmartinis.blogspot.com/2007/01/mlk-and-wisdom-of-six-year-olds.html

It's been three years and L'il Vinegar and her bestest bud, Tee are still living out Dr. King's dream!

Life is good!

VM

Websters 101

2010-01-15T09:19:00.003-05:00

UNIVERSAL - –adjective 1. of, pertaining to, or characteristic of all or the whole: universal experience; 2. applicable everywhere or in all cases; general: a universal cure; 3. affecting, concerning, or involving all: universal military service; 4. used or understood by all: a universal language; 5. present everywhere: the universal calm of southern seas.

So wouldn't UNIVERSAL Healthcare follow this same definition?

Apparently not in the wacky fun filled world that is our Congress. Not only will none of the members of Congress have to give up their spectacular healthcare benefits when this ObamaCare crap passes, now the Unions are now exempt from the "Cadillac Insurance" tax. Not that the average Joe will have time to read the newly revamped bill since the White House won't advocate posting the healthcare bill 72 hours before vote.

I'm all for revamping the crappy system we have now but this isn't the way to do it - through concessions to Big Labor, political bribes to buy the right number of votes, and non-disclosure so we can actually know how badly we're about to get screwed before the lights go out.

Someone send 535 copies of the Merriam Webster English Dictionary to Washington DC because the bozos up there have no idea what 'UNIVERSAL' means!

VM

Twit Logic - Girl Scout Version

2010-01-12T13:14:00.004-05:00

Last year - in a moment of weakness or drunkenness - I agreed to be 'Cookie Mom' for the Brownie Troop. The job in and of itself isn't rocket science but it does come with one cross to bear - you have to attend 'Cookie Training'. Yes, I sat in a conference room while Head Cookie Guru in Charge prattered on and on about how to place orders and when you can place orders and why you place orders and the final date to place first orders but then you can keep ordering if you need to - only you use an entirely different system and here's the 2,987 page manual to describe that one. (OK not really, but I bet she's got one this year!).

Anyway - I survived it and swore never to do that again! And I didn't! But, as my last duty as outgoing Cookie Mom, I filled out the survey and gave one lone suggestion: Start the sales LATER as January 1 was entirely too early. I felt good about my lone suggestion - several fellow Cookie Moms said the same thing. So guess what Head Cookie Guru in Charge did this year - started the damn sale in DECEMBER!

I'm sorry - what part of 'LATER' did she not comprehend. Or maybe she's one of these literal types and I did say that January 1, 2009 was too early so technically starting a sale on December 21, 2009 WAS later, but Girl Scouts run on a school calendar so it's a whole new year!

Regardless, L'il Vinegar's troop started selling cookies the week of Christmas but L'il Vinegar didn't start until after January because the holidays - with all the over indulgences on goodies and spending - are not conducive to people opening up their wallets for Thin Mints or Tagalongs! But somewhere in the pea sized brain of a Girl Scout Twit, it was a good idea to move the biggest fundraiser we do for the whole year to the worst time of the year for selling cookies! It's not like people could buy them for Christmas presents - the darn things won't be in until February! If they made a heart shaped cookie, I could stretch this logic and say it was to beat the Valentine's rush, but that would have required something the Girl Scout Twits lack - foresight and planning.

Now all this is made worse by the fact that the new Troop Cookie mom is a as Twitty as a Twit can be. She sends fliers home telling us to call her with questions - but doesn't provide her phone number. She cannot use e-mail for some reason because she never provides that address either and the kicker was when she asked everyone to bring the paperwork by her house and neglected to tell us where she lived. And yet, she's whining that no one is communicating with her.

2010 isn't looking like the year the Twits clue in yet - but there's a lot of year left!

VM

Happy Birthday New Year!!!

2010-01-10T19:46:00.004-05:00

Belated Happy New Year wishes to all in blogdom and the kingdom of The Internet!

And Happy Birthday to my wonderful husband - who now shares it with his two brand spanking new twin cousins (or second cousins or cousins once removed or whatever you call the kid of your cuz). Team Beaker pulled it off! Thing One (aka Henry David) and Thing Two (aka Adele Crowell) were born on this wonderful day to call their birthday!

2010 is already shaping up to be a pretty good year!!

VM

and I promise not to be such a lameass and neglect this blog! It's been cold, the dog ate my ideas, I was dead at the time . . .

Do Not Try This At Home

2009-12-16T23:32:00.005-05:00

This may sound weird but trust me on this one - never ever ever ever do this! Never have both spouses resign jobs they've held for a long time and start new ones - at the same time!

Yes - in THIS economy - Mr. Vinegar Martini and I both got new jobs - while we already had pretty decent ones. In my case, it was necessity - my contract was up and wasn't going to be renewed. I had until January 17 and lo and behold, I found something faster than that. In Mr. Martini's case, he was just sick to pieces of his old job and found a better opportunity elsewhere.

All this sounds great, right? WRONG! Starting something new is stressful - starting TWO things new is ridiculously insanely stressful! Well, stressful for the person responsible for planning and doing every single thing!

Remember my busiest person ever rant? Well move over because the contest is over - game freaking on - I win! See, prior to this whole 'new job' crap, Mr. Martini and I could pretty evenly split the kiddo pick up and drop off bit. Now - well, apparently Mr. Martini is being held to a tighter standard and it's all back on me - AGAIN!

Back when L'il Vinegar was a tot, I was the sole daycare bringer and picker upper. It worked out OK since L'il Vinegar was at a daycare located about two seconds from my office. But even then, I would stress that I wasn't picking her up fast enough and the one - and I mean ONE FREAKING TIME - I was detained at work and picked her up within the 10 minute closing period, I cried the whole way home thinking I was the worst most neglectful mother.

And now, that it's back all on me again, I have to deal with that shit. And it is ticking me off.

See, I am the one who sidestepped the career thing. I am more than freaking qualified for positions that pay way higher than where I am but I put family first. So, yes, it pisses me off beyond all reason that now I not only have to sidestep the career - now I have to jeopardize what I've got by asking for time off all the time.

OK - fine - I guess I will. I'll tell my new employer that I have to leave every freaking day at 4pm in order to beat traffic and get our child at 5ish. I'll be the one who takes off work if she's sick or has a holiday from school. I'll make sure dinner is planned and served and whatever other household activities are done - since obviously I have soooo much time on my hands! Do I sound bitter? Can you fell the sarcasm here? Well if not, hang on because I'm just getting started....

I'm over this shit! I worked just as hard getting my degree - I worked just as hard getting my experience and I'm tired of taking a back seat because I'm the woman, the wife, the mom! What kind of role model am I to my daughter if I am content with the back seat? What kind of role model am I to her if I am the boring, tired old doormat of a mom who works and trudges home to do everything for everyone else?

So no - - do NOT try this at home. Because you'll end up as stressed and pissed off as me right now - and that's not something I'd wish on anyone!

VM

Redundancy R Us

2009-11-26T16:11:00.004-05:00

OK - for all the flack we get in Atlanta for the seventy one (that's 71 for you PTA types) streets with the name 'Peachtree' in them, in New York City has - count them - 234 different RAY'S PIZZAS!

Lunch today was at one of these gazillion Ray's and it was darn good!

Happy Thanksgiving! Nothing more Americanly Thankful than Pizza!

The Busiest Person EVER

2009-11-19T09:30:00.004-05:00

I swear I'm going to create a pageant for this just so all the people who gripe about how freaking busy they are can compete and once and for all realize that they're full of crap when they use that lameass excuse every time I talk to them!

Contestant Number One would be my cousin - the stay at home mom who claims she's too busy to do anything other than cart her kids to and fro and schedule her playdates, bible studies, parties, etc. etc. etc. Her latest was that she had to arrange transportation for Kidlet One to be picked up by the nanny and taken from ballet to gymnastics then carted to a birthday party where Kidlet Two would arrive from playdate #1 only to be picked up by playdate #2's mom to go to to a separate birthday party at their swank suburban version of Chuck E Cheese. Oh but wait - Contestant Number One is disqualified for use of third party transport when claiming she's too busy to do anything herself and for creating her own make-busy events. Sorry, cuz, thanks for playing though, you'll get a lovely parting gift and the home game. Buh bye.

Contestant Number Two is the divorced soccer mom with three kids and her own business who says she's too busy to check e-mails much less respond on availability of her kid to play or to pay her fees! Granted at face value, this one looks like a shoe in for Top Ten - three kids in three sports - no spouse to share the burden of shuttling sportskids from field to field and to be a business owner on top of that, she's going to be hard to beat. Oh but wait - Contestant Number Two is disqualified, too. Turns out she's got family shuttling two of those kids for her and the third can drive himself and as a professional working woman, there is no excuse whatsoever for not responding to e-mails or paying fees. Sorry soccer mom, but you are deemed ineligible on account of complete BS excuses - no gifts for you - take the walk of shame and don't let the pageant door hit you too hard on the way out! Buh bye!

Contestant Number Three would be every other working mom on the planet. The working mom who gets herself and the kid(s) up, dressed, fed and ready to be at school AND work on time then deals with a crappy commute, impossible people, unattainable deadlines, glass ceilings, inequality, discrimination, and other assorted BS at work and in society. THEN she turns around, reverses that commute, gets kid(s) to where they need to be, supervises homework, cooks dinner and maybe - just maybe - swishes the toilet to give some semblance of cleaning the house when all she really wants to do is crash on the couch with a glass of wine and a foot massage! Contestant Number Three also has to deal with schools who refuse to make it easy for a working mom to volunteer or be active in the kid(s)' school and attitudes from PTA Twits who still cop that 1950's mentality that a woman's place is in the home - or working a shift at the welcome desk! Contestant Number Three should wear the crown if for no other reason that she hasn't gone postal and mowed down the Twits or gone off on the sexist boss or plowed into the idiot who makes right turns from the left lane!

But wait - Contestant Number Three has removed herself from the pageant. She doesn't need the crown or title and has decided it's stupid to compete for the Busiest Person Ever because WE'RE ALL BUSY! And most of what we're 'busy' with is stuff we put upon ourselves so anyone who wants to whine about how freaking busy they are needs to manage their time better and shut the hell up!

Now excuse me, I'm kind of busy doing absolutely nothing my last two days at work right now.

VM

Impatiently Waiting

2009-10-30T11:00:00.003-04:00

I've never been what you'd call a patient calm person. I want things to happen NOW - not in time - not eventually - RIGHT NOW! Fortunately I have managed to develop some semblance of patience as I've gracefully aged but I still don't like it much. I'm in 'WAIT' mode right now on several things that are currently in various stages of 'wait'.

First - soccer for L'il Vinegar. Every week we wait to see which team she'll be placed on and lately she's been moved up to the "A" team (I use that loosely since two of our three teams are so closely aligned to call one of them an 'A' team is redundant). But over the last few weeks, L'il Vinegar has been on the "A" team - deservedly so but she prefers the "B" team for her own reasons.

See, L'il Vinegar has developed into quite the tenacious player and has contributed very positively to the A team. But she is stressing herself out over it. Last weekend she had a full on panic attack on the field and hyperventilated. It's a scary thing to see your child gasping for breath - even scarier when it's self inflicted. I got her calmed down quickly and the ensuing conversations have revealed that she lacks the self confidence or self belief that she deserves to be on that team. I trace that back to the most obnoxious soccer mom wench from last season who wondered aloud (loudly) 'Why is L'il Vinegar on this A Team now' during the game she played up last year. Even though L'il Vinegar has improved dramatically since that one game, she still must be hearing obnoxious soccer mom wench's voice in her head. I can relate - it took me years to get a hurtful comment made by a former boyfriend out of my head so I can completely understand the 'why' it's there - it's the 'how' to get it out that we need to work on.

So we are - positive reinforcement, breathing exercises, and reminders that it's not last year and this year, L'il Vinegar is a rocking kickass player who has earned the respect of her fellow players, coaches and the parents on the sidelines this year. Thankfully obnoxious soccer mom wench's kid left the team - but I promise you, if I run into her anytime soon, I may have to be restrained from pushing her face in for this delayed damage she has done with her stupid comments! And I wait for my little girl to get her confidence back - and to breathe!

I'm also waiting to hear if I will get a job offer. I've had four - yes FOUR - interviews with an awesome company for a position frighteningly similar to what I do now. Plug and play Marketing - that's me - unplug from one place and plug into another and keep rocking on! We're in the 'checking references' stage right now and from what I've heard, they're checking and reference people are saying nice things about me and my abilities! I'm hoping - and waiting - not so patiently for this one but mostly hoping.

Finally, the things I'm typically least patient about are those special events you look forward to so much. Right now I'm staring down Halloween impatiently. Normally, Halloween doesn't excite me like this but I'm dressing up this year and stoked by the prospect of looking the part I've self proclaimed for so long. See, I'm going as THE MEANEST MOTHER IN THE WORLD! Seriously - I even made a T-shirt that says it! And I'm wearing a witches hat, carrying a pitchfork and have the mean-momisms ready to spew - "No!", "Put that down", "Brush your teeth", "Eat your vegetables", "Because I said so, that's why!". Suggestions for more accepted up through Saturday October 31 at 4pm.

Just don't make one of those momisms be "Patience, dear" - because I don't have any!

VM

Bitter? Party of One? Your Table is Ready.

2009-10-14T10:29:00.003-04:00

I have read and experienced the stages of grief with a job loss before. This time, I sailed through the five stages and added a sixth - BITTER AS HELL! I think it fits nicely with the others:

1. Denial (this isn't happening to me!)
2. Anger (why is this happening to me?)
3. Bargaining (I promise I'll do better, try harder, renegotiate etc if...)
4. Depression (I don't care anymore (although Tequila helps!))
5. Acceptance (I'm ready for whatever comes)
6. Bitter as Hell (I'm going to sulk and you just have to deal with it!)

Seriously, this sucks! I really have sailed through the first five - the way this was presented to me made sense, I didn't like it, didn't understand it, got depressed by it, but since there's nothing I can do short of going postal on the dweeb in HR, I have to accept it. And now, bitterness sets in.

The bitterness comes from the fact that my contract will not be renewed even though my boss, her boss, the VP of the division, and scores of other managers want me to stay. The reason said contract won't be renewed is because some numbnuts set me up initially as a 'Temporary Employee' with intent to be brought on as BIG COMPANY Employee within a year. Only within that year, the economy started to tank - then it really tanked and now, because some dweeb in HR has a bonus attached to how much money he saves the company, he's not renewing the funky contracts of 'Temporary Employees'. Even though his predecessor did it for three years. Dweeb is a rule following twit who I now smite with acne and painful rectal itch!

Oh but wait - it gets better. See, they will renew contracts of Contractors - which is what I'm listed as in the directory but not officially on that sheet of paper in HR Dweeb's cubicle. So one would think to just change the sheet of paper and be done with it, right? Wrong. For a 'Temporary Employee' to move to 'Contract Employee' all stars must align, Congress must approve, and 'Temporary Employee' must have been gone from the company for six months before re-hire. So if I want to sit on my ass for six months on the off chance they'll bring me back, I'm golden. But back here in the real world, that' ain't an option!

Oh but wait - it still gets better. BIG COMPANY can move someone from a 'Temporary Employee' to a Real One. But BIG COMPANY is on a hiring freeze. They don't call it a true freeze, more of a 'Resource Re-Allocation' thing in that they move people who are already here into new roles. And lo and behold, there's a new role that's recently become available. Glimmer of hope? Hardly.

See, even though the new role is perfect for me, I know the job, have worked with the group, and have been recommended by not one but two current managers in that role, I can't be considered. Because I'm a 'Temporary Employee' and BIG COMPANY can only 'reallocate resources' of current employees into these new roles. It goes back to the Corporate Sneech thing again. New Role position person must have stars on thars and alas, I do not.

So let's recap, shall we? I got set up incorrectly due to the incompetence of someone else; I can't be hired full time because they're in 'reallocation' mode; but I can't be reallocated because I'm not set up properly to move into that role? Okie dookie then! Meanwhile the work and projects are piling up and I'm expected to smile, bend over and take this until January 15th when I'm shown the door because some numbnuts set my contract up incorrectly in the first place. No, I shouldn't be bitter at all, should I?

It's a hard pill to swallow - but like I said, tequila does help - temporarily. I can only stay drunk on the bitterness for so long because I have to get another job before January.

Now excuse me, my table is ready and there's a cold Margarita waiting there.

VM

When It Rains - It Pours

2009-10-06T08:36:00.003-04:00

Literally and figuratively in my case.

First the literal - turns out we do have storm damage. While our little house didn't flood or look nearly as bad as what the national news showed, water packed a wallop in a much more subtle sneaky way. It oozed in at the slab and turns out wallboard and insulation act like sponges and suck water up like crazy. We found this out when the AT&T dude told Mr. Vinegar Martini that our siding was wet (it wasn't raining at that time) and our interior wall was 'mushy' (walls should be solid, right).

Upon more careful inspection, we found the baseboards were damp and if you pressed JUST RIGHT on the floor, you could form a puddle! Did I mention it wasn't raining at the time? So this water had just been hanging out around there - slowly soaking up the wallboard for - oh - about two weeks! Oh crap! Water + wallboard + two weeks = mold. Did I mention I'm allergic to mold? Did I also mention my sinuses have been about to pop out of my freaking skull for the last two weeks? Ugh!

Couple of problems here aside from the obvious - first, we have no flood insurance because we don't live on a flood plain. Using this lovely thing called LOGIC, one would think that if one doesn't live on a flood plain or in a flood prone area, one would not need flood insurance. Simple enough until your damn house floods, right? Second, technically speaking and according to the handy dandy insurance definitions, we didn't have a true 'flood' in my house but more of a bigass puddle that decided to pay a visit inside the wall. Okie dookie - so a homeowners insurance claim is out.

Oh but wait - I now live in a Federal Disaster Area and FEMA has come to town. A neighbor told me to file a claim and try to get that low interest loan to make the repairs. Neither of us have catastrophic damage so we're not looking for the governmental handout - just something a little less expensive than the trek to Home Depot with the 18% interest card. I have to tell you, the process of filing a FEMA claim was a breeze and dare I say it, a very organized experience. Claim filed online Friday evening, first phone call from FEMA rep Saturday night, Inspector at front door by 9am Sunday morning. Holy crap! At least they learned from the fuster cluck that was Katrina!

FEMA Dude shows up and does the obligatory question asking, verification and inspection. Somewhere in that 'inspection' process we had a little 'incident' occur. See, FEMA Dude was looking at my interior wall and pressed against the baseboard. By 'pressed' I mean used as much pressure against that wall as one would use to put a stamp on a letter - not much. Apparently it was enough because my wallboard crumbled like a cookie and FEMA Dude put a grapefruit sized hole in my den wall. The look on his face was priceless though. He looked over at me with this classic 'Holy Shit!' expression and said 'that's never happened before'. To which I replied, "well, at least this gives some validity to my claim, huh?' And he agreed.

So much so that he put in his report I needed 12 feet of interior wall and 15 feet of exterior wall replaced due to water damage from the storms. Kind of stated the obvious but it's always nice to have some validation, right? We're still waiting to see what that validation means and to qualify for FEMA assistance, you still have to file a homeowners claim so I did that after FEMA Dude left. Still waiting on Travelers Dude to call. Meanwhile, we stuffed a rag in the grapefruit hole and are running the dehumidifier 24/7 to stave off more cookie crumbling in the wall and (hopefully) prevent the icky deadly mold from growing. Stay tuned for more updates on the wet soggy Casa de Martinis!

My figurative rainstorm is work related - times two. First - Mr. Martini got a job offer Friday. He'd been waiting on this for a while and was excited. Operative word now - WAS. Offer came in low - ridiculously stupidly low. Like $20K less than he's making now low. Insultingly low. Mr. Martini waffled between really pissed off they wasted his time and really disappointed because he wanted to work there. He did have a flash of brilliance the next day and pitched an idea to his old boss that old boss liked and is sending back down the line to the hiring manager. We're in wait mode on that one. Stay tuned.

The second figurative work related event is not so promising. Turns out it's highly probable that my contract with VERY LARGE COMPANY will not be renewed in January 2010 and even more highly probable that my last day with VERY LARGE COMPANY will be January 17, 2010. Three and half months to show up, try to give a crap about what I'm doing, draw a paycheck and look for another job. Crap! We can hope for a serious sudden sharp economic upturn - but I am nothing if not realistic here so pardon me for sulking under my own private little black raincloud right now.

And right now, I hate rain - literally and figuratively!

VM

PTA Twit Logic - version 2.0

2009-09-29T10:16:00.006-04:00

Only in my PTA would this happen.

Last year I was editor of the weekly newsletter. It was a royal pain in the butt because PTA Twits never give information in a timely manner, correctly, or 'spelt' right. Half the time, I had to dig and research for things to put in the newsletter and did quite well thankyouverymuch! When the former Principal (Principle for you PTA types) was there, we e-mailed the weekly newsletter out and all was right with the world.

When the new Twit Principle showed up, I was told we didn't have the capability to e-mail. Translation - Twit Principle was too techno-illiterate to create a distribution list so she had the teachers send it out to their individual class lists. Okie dookie. Between lack of content, lack of intelligence and downright nastiness from Chickie Twit the Breeding Gossiping Idiot, I quit the newsletter last year. Some new Twit took over and honestly, I haven't given it much thought until now.

New Twit who took it over either couldn't handle the pressure or was too lazy to research content so now it's a MONTHLY publication posted on the website rather than e-mailed to parents. Because in my PTA, parent's only need to know information MONTHLY and if there's anything else to know, surely the mothers are up at the school 24/7 doing some vital task like sitting on their asses at the "Welcome" desk and not actually working or making a living or doing anything useful to society. Because in my PTA, women don't work - they're 'full time mothers' and Room Moms. And any woman who does work is an evil terrible mother doing a disservice to their child and who must be shunned or at the very least talked about in a nasty manner. At least in my PTA - I hear there are other PTA's out there who are quite advanced and accommodating - they actually hold meetings at - GASP - night - during 'family time'! At least that's what I hear - I've never seen it so it must not be true - not in my PTA! But I digress . .

So anyway, New Twit is also still using exactly what I had written last year for half the content. Seriously, the same crap I dug up is still on there in the exact words I wrote. Not sure if I should be flattered or pissed but either way, it's obvious New Twit is having the same issues I did - fellow Twits not providing content - so she's doing it monthly - and not using original or updated content.

Now one thing I do know is that we have enough crap going on at that school to need to inform parents in a more timely manner than monthly and danged if I wasn't right about that. Seems group of Twits got all atwitter when their respective projects weren't in the monthly newsletter. Well, DUH - those twits were the same ones who used to send me what they wanted published in the Tuesday newsletter on a Monday night - and expect it to be in there! So to expect them to actually have forethought (or regular thoughts for that matter) to plan and notify New Twit of events or meetings is hilariously ridiculously out of the question. I'm talking notgonnahappen out of the question!

Well, apparently Squawking Twits squawked enough and now - rather than making the regular newsletter weekly again, the Twit Principle has decided to make a Newsletter 'Express' and damned if she's not e-mailing it out. Granted, she still can't find a way to create a list or not have the gazillion e-mail addresses showing in the "TO" box, but Twit Principle must have taken herself an Emailing for Dummies class because she can e-mail now! Welcome to 1998, idiot!

But seriously - TWO Twits doing TWO different newsletters because one of the Twits couldn't drum up content for the weekly but the other Twits need weekly reminders or validation or whatever? And somehow now the Twit Principle suddenly finds a way to eek into the Age of Technology to get these weekly reminders out to parents on something other than that blasted PTA approved blue paper? This is NEW to the Twits? Seems to me, this is exactly what the former Principal (Principle to the PTA Twits) was doing all along. Seems to me this is exactly what I did or (asked for) all along last year.

Meanwhile, I've gotten three - count them three - 'Express' newsletters because one didn't contain some information that was vital to someone - then one had a mistake (GASP - Twits make mistakes) then another one needed to go out to apologize for the mistake or lack of vital information or whatever. I give it two more weeks before someone starts to gripe about too many e-mails. Then two weeks after that before they decide to put the Express newsletter on the website - then another two weeks for the NEW Express 'Lite' newsletter to come out because a new contingency of Twits get upset that their projects, meetings, worthless little events aren't blasted out every single day to parents.

At this rate, we'll have 47 newsletters by the end of the year - and I bet you a million bucks every single one of them will have a word that's 'spelt' wrong or a 'your invited to___' or a retraction, apology, and correction sent. My PTA Twits are nothing if not predictable.

Dare I even mention the debacle that is the PTA website these days? Nah - I'll spare you that fuster cluck for another day.

VM

A Letter

2009-09-28T09:40:00.006-04:00

Open Letter to the careless twit in the silver sedan who plowed into me at 7:45 this morning:

Dear Twit:

I do hope that you weren't too upset when my car interrupted your makeup application this morning. I do hope that the vat of whatever you were applying to your face didn't spill and ruin your leather seats. And I certainly hope you weren't too late after slowing down for all of two seconds then speeding way to wherever twits like you must be heading at 7:45 in the morning.

Surely you have a much more valuable and important life to live than to stop and see if you caused any damage to a vehicle or person. Perhaps you are some great surgeon rushing to save the lives of poor children and helpless kittens and to have stopped at the scene of the accident you caused would have meant life or death to little Timmy or Fluffy. I should apologize that me and my Jeep were so selfishly stopped in front of you at that light and could have hindered your good deeds for the day. I should - but I won't!

What I will do is tell you that no amount of makeup will ever cover the ugly vile person you are to have rushed off without a care in the world after hitting me hard enough to knock me into the car in front of me. See, that other driver and I pulled through the intersection and into a parking lot - stupidly thinking that you would do the same. But nooooooooooo! You just drove on without a care in the world. You didn't even have the decency to look over and attempt to shrug an apology. Nope, you and that makeup vat just kept on going! TWIT!

The other driver and I were flabbergasted. In fact, that's what the other driver - a very nice looking older gentleman in a grey tailored suit - actually said - 'I'm flabbergasted that she didn't stop.' After examining our cars and finding no physical damage, we drove on our merry way. We could have filed a report but what good will it do - I only got half your tag number and the nice looking older gentlemen in the grey tailored suit said he was late for a meeting, so we judgement called it and left the scene. Something you seem to be good at, too. TWIT!

So, dear careless twit who thinks her life is too important to stop at an accident she caused, I say this to you: Unless you actually are some great surgeon or humanitarian saving poor children and defenseless kittens, I hope your makeup runs, you get acne all over your face, a raging case of hemorrhoids, crabs, lice, a run in your stockings, a broken nail, constipation, audible uncontrollable flatulence, and a bad hair day! Other than that - have a blessed day, dear!

Very Sincerely Yours,
Vinegar Martini - aka - that woman you plowed into at 7:45 this morning

VM

The Stench

2009-09-24T23:59:00.003-04:00

I never knew the damage water could do until I saw it first hand.
I never knew the smell water could muster up until I smelled it first hand.

Right now, my house smells! This town smells! No amount of air freshener can mask it. I hope and pray you never ever have to smell it. Right now, Georgia stinks!

Our house - which had seepage not flooding, smells like a combination of dirty socks and bad yogurt! It's not overpowering, I guess we're used to it, but it smells! The dehumidifier and shop vac can't pull it all out - it's a "here to stay" stank! Outside smells worse. It's what nine days of rain and a buttload of water can smell like when there's nowhere for the water to go but to sit there and fester on dead leaves and grass.

The semi-dry soccer field L'il Vinegar played on this afternoon smelled of dried Georgia clay and old grass - and sweat. I'm sure the goose droppings on there played a part, but it smelled. We all did by the time we got home - because after the rain comes the humidity - and the bugs! Georgia really stinks right now - literally and figuratively!!!

I cannot imagine what the folks are smelling as they dig out their muddy homes that were fully engulfed in this freakish flood. A guy on the news said he worked faster in hopes that he could make the smell go away. I totally understand him right now as I sit in my den trying my damnedest not to smell the smells I don't want to smell!

I have no idea when we'll get a contractor out here to figure out why we had seepage and where it came from and how to prevent it from turning to that smelly deadly black mold it's destined to become! I have no clue what said contractor will cost me. I just know that right now, my house, my city, and half my state stink to high heaven! And it's about as unbearable a stench as I've ever experienced!!

Pass the tissues - smelling salts - or as we tried to use to mask the smell of beer at the ripe age of 16 - Grape Bubble Yum. Whatever it takes - someone send me something that smells better than a flood!!!!!

VM

September Craziness

2009-09-23T12:02:00.006-04:00

This month has been absolutely crazy - between political, athlete and celebrity rudeness to weather out of control. I'm ready for September to be gone! I did get quite the giggle from this, though! Out of stupidity and natural disaster, sometimes there is a laugh in there somewhere! Now I just wonder who Kanye will blame for this disaster?

Full Moon of Rudeness?

2009-09-14T12:54:00.004-04:00

Holy cow what a week!

First off the other stellar politician from South Carolina, Joe Wilson, exercising as much self control as a toddler in a toy store and yelling 'YOU LIE' to President Obama during a speech to Congress - not to mention on live television. And now, Joey is saying he will not apologize any more! Well la tee freaking da! Joe - you're an ass. Obviously you were in time out the day your mama taught manners. No wonder. Let's see what happens with his career now.

Next, Serena Williams' outburst at the US Open Semi-Final. Honestly, it was hardly an 'outburst' - more like a full on meltdown. Seriously, I'm not a fan of the Williams' sisters at all and even less of one of their dad. I find his behavior incredibly boorish and racist and they tend to whine and make excuses for every single missed shot or loss. I'm not sure what US Tennis will do in this situation but fining an already very rich woman isn't going to be the right kind of time out she needs. And Lord knows her daddy wasn't putting her in time out nor teaching manners at the time. Let's see what happens with her career now.

And finally, the biggest piece of $hit on the planet (according to P!nk anyway), Kanye West. Holy cow does he have a God complex. did he ran low on his meds or high on the Hennessey he was clutching on the red carpet? What the heck was that??? Seriously, at least we saved the rudest and most boorish display of the week for late Sunday night.

In case you've been under a rock or like me, really don't care about Kanye until he does something stupid like this, Taylor Swift won the first VMA award of the night for best female video. Apparently Kanye didn't like that and came up on the stage to say that Beyonce had the best video or best video ever made in the history of the world or some such nonsense. Only thing was, he came up on the stage while Taylor was accepting her award and trying to thank people for it! HOLY CRAP - this dude is a piece of work. He's pitched fits before - but he says he's not crazy just 'keeping it real'. Yeah. Well here's hoping reality smacks you upside your swelled egomaniacal head, you jerk! Let's see what happens with his career now!

Sadly in all three of these extreme rude cases, all three of these self centered twits will prevail. Some Republicans in SC will vote for Joey; some tennis fans will continue to cheer for Serena, and some music fans will keep buying Kanye's trash and enabling his 'bad boy' behavior. Here's hoping, though, that the 'some' is way fewer than it was previously.

Come one, folks, act like grownups!!! Or make it legal for me to duct tape some people's mouths shut!

VM

Biting Satire Will Set You Free

2009-09-11T08:51:00.005-04:00

Put your politics aside, unwad your panties, and just enjoy the funniest thing I've seen in this genre since Saturday Night Live's Church Lady. And for anyone even considering being offended by this, remember, if you cannot laugh at yourself, why bother getting up? Now meet our special guest . .

Betty Bowers - America's Best Christian

I can't decide which is killing me more - the interview with Dr. Laura where Betty tells her she's too slutty to speak at the Baptist Church, the Harry Potter movie review, or the results of the "Are You Going To Hell Test"! But nothing is more valuable than her handy dandy cheat sheet to help you comprehend and interact with Right Wing Christians. I'm thinking of having it laminated and carry it with me everywhere!

Now if she'd only make one of those cheat sheets for dealing with PTA Twits!

Cheers!

A Few Rounds of Martinis

2009-09-08T09:22:00.003-04:00

The downside of a four day weekend is that the Tuesday that feels like Monday is more like Monday squared. You're tired and dragging and yet you're expected to be all corporatey or schooly or whatever you are supposed to be on a regular Monday. So I'm just throwing out some stream of consciousness rounds of Vinegar Martini's words of wisdom, general snark, and musings of the day just because I'm too burnt out and lazy to dig up anything more interesting:

1. A great thing about this country is the right to freedom of speech. An even greater thing would be if some people would exercise the right NOT to speak sometimes.

2. If you get the bill for the medical procedure before you get the results, does that mean you're OK or are they worried you'll drop dead before you can write the check?

3. Why are yawns so contagious?

4. Four students here in Georgia scored perfect scores on the SAT. I bet you a million dollars their parents didn't return the 'opt out' form to get them out of hearing the speech from the President about the importance of education.

5. Information is a good thing. Too much information is not. Too much information in the hands of complete brain damaged Twits is scary as hell!

6. Life should have a mute button. And a TIVO remote so you can rewind the good stuff.

7. Drinks are measured by rounds. So are boxing matches. Too much of both can knock you on your ass. Coincidence? I think not.

8. This commercial is the funniest thing I've seen in a long time.

9. Little kids and old dogs are the most honest souls on this earth. If you're loved by one or both of these, you're doing pretty well for yourself.

10. I'm stopping with nine things just to irk the Letterman purists who insist on a Top Ten List! BA HA HA HA!!!

Happy Monday squared, y'all! Cheers!

VM

Twits and Politics Do Not Mix Well

2009-09-04T09:54:00.006-04:00

The uproar over a scheduled Presidential address to school children on the importance of education is utterly ridiculous. I cannot tell you how many of the Twits in my area have forwarded e-mails decrying "blatent properganda" by the "left wing liberals" and encouraging parents to keep their kids out of school on Tuesday.

Seriously? Seriously? These moronic boobs can't spell or use proper grammar much less grasp facts before spewing off e-mails to humongous distribution lists. Maybe they feel compelled to let very large groups of people know how stupid they are. I should thank them for the warning, I guess.

Regardless, I find the whole hoopla about this embarrassing. The Twit d'jour yesterday forwarded a link to an "I Pledge" video and ranted that it was going to be shown in schools. First off, the I Pledge celebrity video was created and shown around the time of President Obama's inauguration as a public relations campaign. I guess the Twit hasn't opened her browser - or mind - since before January because that one has been around for a while.

In a totally different public relations campaign, President Obama is addressing school children to discuss the importance of education. OH THE HUMANITY. A sitting president wants to tell kids to stay in school. "Blatent Properganda"! Well, read for yourself - here's the press release. Or I can be nice and copy and past this:

In time for the first day of school for many children across the U.S., President Obama is joining the Ad Council and the U.S. Army to launch a new series of television and radio public service advertisements (PSAs) designed to encourage Americans to take responsibility and support high school students on their path to graduation. The new ads, which feature the President, are a part of the Ad Council and the U.S. Army's High School Dropout Prevention "Boost" campaign. They are being distributed to media outlets nationwide to coincide with a special address President Obama will deliver directly to students in grades K-12 on Tuesday, September 8th on the importance of taking responsibility for their education. The speech will be broadcast live at 12:00 pm EDT on www.whitehouse.gov/live and C-SPAN.

Hey, Twit -it's not a video, it's a series of PSAs that will air on your own handy dandy radio and television. Is that 'properganda'? And the message is for kids to stay in school. Is that 'left wing liberal' stuff? As for the people whining that government has no place in public schools - get a grip, folks. Public schools ARE government schools! Don't believe me, ask Neal Boortz - he coined the term!

But here's the funniest part. All the Twits in my area are all a twitter about this live streaming broadcast their precious offspring will be poisoned by if shown in school. They're threatening to pull their kids out of school that day. So to them, I have a question and a mind blowing fact. Here goes - first off, what kind of message about the importance of education are you sending your precious offspring if you don't send them to school just because they may hear from a man you obviously didn't vote for? That politics trumps education? That if you don't like what you hear, you needn't learn anything from it? Nice way to continue that generation of stupidity you have going! We need more close minded stupid people in the world and your little downloads are living up to that expectation nicely! I salute you (dripping sarcasm)!

The mind blowing fact is this - very few schools in this state have the network capacity to handle streaming video. In fact, most elementary schools don't have wireless, have limited Internet access only in the media center and offices, and the laptops used by teachers aren't equipped to handle large video files. And to the Twit d'jour, YouTube is totally blocked in all public schools here so they can't show the very video you got all torked about in the first place.

Twits and politics are not a good mix. Twits and technology are a disaster. I'm so fortunate to have both so close to home!

As for Tuesday's message, I'm going to see if L'il Vinegar's school is even going to attempt to show the broadcast and haul my butt up there to watch it with her. If they don't show it, I'll sit her down at home and watch from our own computer. The message is a good one and needs to be heard. Heck, Bill Cosby has been screaming this for years and to the best of my knowledge, no Twits got their panties in a wad over that! But hey, if the Twits want to keep their offspring home that day, I welcome a Twit free school on Tuesday!

VM

Drama for Your Mama

2009-08-27T09:47:00.007-04:00

Yesterday I quipped that I didn't know if my life was a sit-com or a soap opera for all the ridiculousness and melodramatics in it right now. Today, I'm convinced there is no genre to fully describe this little existence I've eked out for myself. It is, however, if nothing else, interesting and giggle worthy more times than not.

The PTA drama has morphed into more of a satirical comedy now that I've removed myself from the Twits. I still must deal with the inane stupidity of the administration - or "Principle" for you PTA types, but I am fairly certain that I can scoff at that idiocy from afar and not get sucked in. Stay tuned, though, the Membership Twit hasn't started the crusade to have 19 card carrying PTA members per family to meet her self imposed 300% increase goal. I'm sure when I get the 'Did you forget to join the PTA' notice in L'il Vinegar's bag, that'll set me off, but for now, I'm content to sit back and watch nothing change and the same Twits re assume their positions up at that school.

PTA "Life Genre" classification - Twit Comedy. Drama rating - for now - two stars out of five.

Moving on to Soccer - Hovering Soccer Dad and I had a teensy confrontation in the parking lot the other day - not unexpected either since I had a gut feeling this would happen and my gut is right a lot. I hate when that happens. See, Hovering Soccer Dad still thinks he's a coach even though Real Coach has had 'talks ' with him. Turns out Real Coach never actually put these words in this order and spoke them at the same time - they were: "YOU", "ARE", "NOT", "A", "COACH", "ON", "THIS", and "TEAM". Who knew we'd have to be that literal? Oops, I did it again, got literal and put the right words in the right order - - - and pissed Hovering Soccer Dad right off!

Real Coach tried to get Hovering Soccer Dad off the field by gently saying that at this level, we need all coaches to be certified. Problem was that Hovering Soccer Dad heard that as an instruction to go take certification classes and asked Real Coach to send him links. Which - stupidly I might add, Real Coach did! You can't be subtle with people like Hovering Soccer Dad so now he's rushed out and signed up for the Coaching course. Problem is that he's still thinking he's a coach on this team and that happens to be one of the exemptions to get into the advanced coaching course versus the free state sanctioned Coaching 101 kind of course. Operative word there was Free - it comes back to haunt us in a bit.

Now all this played out via a series of e-mails either directly sent or forwarded to me by Real Coach. I even noted to Real Coach that Hovering Soccer Dad was signed up for the advanced course and needed to take the other two first. Real Coach didn't seem to think this was an issue even when I stated, - no I pretty much threw down a bet - that Hovering Soccer Dad would come to me expecting reimbursement since we do that for coaches. And sure 'nuff, he did!

Dude trots up to me in those icky polyester shorts and his personal whistle jangling off his man boobs and asks if I will need the paperwork after his course. I blankly and blondly stared at him and asked innocently 'What for?' to which he went there - 'For reimbursement.' Damn, I hate when my gut is right but danged if it usually isn't. So I - nicely (really, I have the capability!) stated that we budgeted for two coaches certifications and we'd already paid that - and then I went there. Put the right words in the right order and said "Hovering Soccer Dad, you are not a coach on this team'. I did say we thanked him for his help and appreciated it but - then I went there again for effect and said 'but you aren't an official coach on this team'. And then . . .

He just stared at me. No, he stared THROUGH me. No, scratch that, he glared at me. And I stared right back. I think the uncomfortable silence was loud or the sight of a dorky dude glaring down the blond soccer mom was so odd that the team mom came over calling my name and saying she needed me for some totally made up lame thing. Bless her for white knighting but Hovering Soccer Dad and I were going to finish this or become an episode of 'COPS'. And we did, Hovering Soccer Dad finally spoke and said 'That was not part of the arrangement'. Huh? What arrangement?

I was able to separate the responses I wanted to lob out there from the ones I should lob out there so I asked him for details and he proceeded to hem and haw and said that Real Coach told him he'd be reimbursed. To which I said he needed to go back to Real Coach and clarify but if we all three needed to sit down, we could. Hovering Soccer Dad then huffed to his car, got in, and sat there. For about 5 minutes - maybe longer, Team Mom was determined to get me out of there and asked me to accompany her to the field. Hovering Soccer Dad finally came down a while later and assumed his self imposed pseudo coaching role by running onto the field.

Later it started to bother me - what was he doing in his car for all that time? Loading the weapon? Crying? Leaving a mean voicemail for Real Coach? Seriously, a grown man pouting that the big mean soccer mom told him he wasn't a coach? Oh gosh, golly gee, was I PTA Harsh again because I was just stating the FREAKING FACT he refuses to accept!!! Team Mom and I honestly believe that I was the first to use the right words in the right order since Real Coach seemed to dance around the subject in an attempt not to hurt Hovering Soccer Dad's fee fees. Screw that - dude is weird, presumptuous, and delusional - like I care about his wittle fee fees!

I did talk to Real Coach - he denied ever telling Hovering Soccer Dad that he'd be reimbursed and I think Real Coach is finally seeing that Hovering Soccer Dad is off his freaking rocker! He was supposed to call him yesterday - we'll see what tonight's practice brings. Regardless, I will not be stared down by the king of all dorky helicopter parents. And if - God please, no - I have to reimburse him from team funds, I swear I will do it in unwrapped pennies! Jerk!

Soccer 'Life Genre' classification - Soap Opera meets WWF Smackdown. Drama Rating - nineteen stars out of five!

Between these two areas, work, family, messy house, crappy yard, crazy cat, and other assorted genres that make up this life I lead, I'm a flipping walking talking TV Guide in the Twilight Zone!

And now a word from our sponsors . . .

And I wonder why I imbibe????

VM

PTA Twit Karma

2009-08-23T16:30:00.004-04:00

I can't believe I forgot to share this one. I've been giggling a little giggle about it for about two weeks now and the sheer satisfaction I'm getting almost negates the grief and crap I've taken from some of the Twits these past four years.

Remember Chickie Twit, the breeder, the one in charge of 'Teacher Appreciation Week' who was so stupid and so lazy she never changed the flyer in four years. HER? The same one who offered up her opinion of how 'terrible' every single second grade teacher was the year our kids were in second grade? HER? The one who single handedly pissed me off to the point that I quit the Newsletter mid year? HER? Well, guess who her now second grader download #5 got this year? The Big Mean Awful Teacher L'il Vinegar that she badmouthed during the entire Sneak a Peek (um, er "Peak" for you PTA types) the year L'il Vinegar got that particular teacher.

The only reason I know this is because L'il Vinegar loved that Big Mean Awful Teacher so much that she wanted to go by to visit her during Sneak a Peek (Peak). As L'il Vinegar and big mean awful teacher were catching up, in walks Chickie Twit looking like she had a turd under her nose and dragging the now second grade download #5 and the other gazillion kids she has. Chickie Twit and I saw one another, gave the obligatory courtesy nod but the seething hatred was there - on her part - and the satisfied unadulterated glee that karma packs one hell of a bite was there - on my part.

Now, I could be a complete bitch and tell big mean awful teacher that Chickie Twit has some preconceived notions about her - but I won't. I'm betting that Chickie Twit high tailed it to the Principal (um, er Principle for you PTA types) and tried to get download #5 in the series moved to another class. She apparently tried that last year with download #4 but didn't get her way and actually moved download #4 to private school. Ten to one, download #5 disappears from this school and joins his brother this year.

Regardless, for all her badmouthing and gossiping, I'm so glad it came back around. So very glad indeed!

VM

Stupid Parent Trick #42 In The Series

2009-08-21T09:19:00.003-04:00

OK - first off, yes, I have an only child so I'm never faced with this kind of dilemma of child care for a younger sibling. And no, I'm not a total cold hearted bitch who thinks you need to lock your kids - or spares - in the closet. However . . . use a little freaking common sense or at the very least, courtesy, when dragging your younger kids to events and meetings.

What, pray could have possibly set off Vinegar Martini this time? Only the fact that I hauled it to one of those God awful school meetings last night and hardly heard a word of it due to the fact that a half dozen toddlers and pre-schoolers were running wild in the elementary school library while their parents sat oblivious or selfishly ignoring the fact their offspring were disrupting the entire thing! I did hear an adorable four year old's version of a story as she pretended to read. I did hear a very cute set of toddler twins playing loudly with some blocks. I don't fault children in these circumstances - no three year old should be expected to sit quietly by in a meeting.

I do fault the idiot parents because I never did hear any of them once say, please be quiet little Mary or Johnny or Chauncey or whomever. Maybe they didn't want to own up that it was their kid running wild? Maybe they didn't want to distract themselves from what the teachers were saying? Maybe they just enjoyed the reprieve from the loud kid. Who knows - but it flies all over me that parents drag their little kids places and don't keep them mindful of the fact they're not at the flipping Chuck-E-Cheese!

Then again, those were also the parents with the cell phones that kept going off and the two twits who kept answering them and talking at full volume. I have to wonder if one of those women was the hysterical allergy mom who is making the entire school conform to her kid's peach allergy, too? After all, the world DOES revolve around people like that - didn't you get that memo? Ugh!

If you are a parent who is reading this and drags your younger kids to meetings, events, and other grown up functions, let me put this as nicely and as delicately as I possibly can. Get a sitter or don't go! Seriously, your kid is cute and adorable but I'm not there to see cute and adorable - I'm there to listen to a teacher, get information, or watch my kid in a function. Stop being such a cheapass selfish twit and find childcare or stay home!!! And if you are 'that' parent reading this and you decide to leave some nasty comment about how I don't understand or how I'm being judgemental and mean, kiss my lily-white-mom-to-an-only-child ass and be prepared for a taunting the likes of which you will not see in your lifetime again! You are a self centered twit who needs to be called out! And I'm just the cynical meanie poopyhead to do it!

VM

Governmental Thinking

2009-08-19T10:21:00.003-04:00

One week into the school year and I'm already disgusted with the government school my child attends.

Bigass Disclaimer First - I empathize with parents of children with severe food allergies. Truly I do. The simple act of eating shouldn't become a life threatening event. It must be incredibly stressful on the entire family not just the child with the allergy. But come on, use a little common sense here.

Apparently there is a boy in L'il Vinegar's grade with severe food allergies to nuts and peaches. I found this out from a letter sent home yesterday that actually named the kid and explained his allergy. It turns out the parents were fine with that and it's not school policy to disclose the name and grade of the kid with the specific ailment or allergy being discussed. I personally thought it was a serious privacy invasion or at the very least, setting the kid up to be taunted by classmates pissed off they can't have PB&J's in their lunch anymore.

But I get it - peanuts could kill this kid and the school needs a little CYA to keep hysterical parents from suing them if something happens to him. Got that. Here's my issue, though. What are you teaching children - specifically the allergy kid - by making the entire school conform to his particular situation?

I already have a big honking problem with the first lesson children are taught in public school - that personal property has no value. I loathe the practice of school supply lists and everything being put in one big pile to dole out evenly and 'fairly' to the entire class. If I buy a purple folder, by God, my kid better come home with that freaking purple folder not the yellow one someone else bought. I will lose that battle every year so I'm shutting up on that one - and sending her specific non-communal supplies with her on the first day rather than bringing them to open house.

However, this practice of eliminating a food for all based on the allergies of a few sends the wrong message to kids - both the allergy kid and non-allergy kids. If you train up elementary school kids to think the world will conform to them, they will grow up with a sense of entitlement that is 99.99% sure to piss me the hell off if I run into them when they're teens or adults. No, the world doesn't owe you squat just because you can't have peaches or peanuts or kiwi or whatever the heck you're allergic to. How about YOU (or in the case of minor children, PARENTS) take a little responsibility here and deal with it rather than force everyone to change based on your one situation? Because when you're a grownup, if you expect the world to change and conform to what you want or can't have or believe nor don't believe, then you're going to be labeled a complete nutcase - or a politician depending on which career path you take.

As it stands now, my child can't have a peanut butter sandwich, peaches, any kind of nuts, or chocolate in her lunch box or the staff will remove it and throw it away. All because some kid in some grade is allergic to all or part of those items. And this only seems to make sense in governmental entities not the real world.

Sigh. At this rate, school lunch will be bread and water only - but I'm sure there's some gluten/wheat/liquid sensitivity issue out there waiting to be addressed, too.

VM

Backlash - THWAAAACK!

2009-08-11T12:33:00.006-04:00

Slowly but surely my faith in humanity is being destroyed. See, for as cynical as I can be, deep down, I believe people - I trust people - I think people will inherently do the right thing. And then reality smacks me senseless - THWAAAACK!

Our little soccer team did what was right. We followed the rules and we "won" a grievance. We did it in a civil manner and used the proper processes. At the end of it all, I believed a bunch of Hoity Toity Old Farts when they wished us well and said they looked forward to our teams playing this fall. THWAAAACK!

Apparently the Volunteer Scheduler Person at our Soccer Club is having great difficulty finalizing a fall schedule for our team. Apparently also, Volunteer Scheduler Person is highly stressed about this. In a very long winded emotional e-mail, she specifically mentioned several clubs either not responding to her requests or not having enough teams to play us, but one jumped out at me and made my blood boil and heart sink at the same time:
"...Hoity Toity Soccer Club would not play our club at all because of grievances filed last year over the Hoity Toity Soccer Club's tournament..."

THWAAAACK!

So now a group of Hoity Toity Old Farts are taking their petty BS out on kids who just want to play soccer. All because they didn't like being challenged and told they were wrong. What a load of horse shit ('scuse my french). Karma be damned, I hope those Hoity Toity Old Farts rot in hell forever for what they're doing to these kids. And they better hope they never ever run into one seriously disappointed but pissed off soccer mom ever again!

THWAAAACK! Reality bites!

VM

Seriously?

2009-08-10T15:19:00.003-04:00

I'm having some total scratch my head and say 'WHA?' moments here lately.

First up - it's August here. That means it's hot as blue blazes. This is not a new thing. It's August. It's the South. You're gonna sweat. It's freaking hot. So who in their infinite wisdom decided to hold a soccer tournament and have little kids run up and down a field in blazing heat in August? Apparently someone thought this was OK and scheduled not one but two tournaments this past weekend. Seriously?

The kids were fine - they got mandatory water breaks every 15 minutes and giggled while they poured water on their heads and put cold towels on their necks. Their parents sat there sweating and scrambling for sunscreen. Sure we had a tent but in that kind of heat, shade doesn't necessarily provide full on comfort - just not as bright a light while sweating in the heat.

Next and continuing on the heat motif, school started today. In August. In this wicked heat. Yeah, let's send kids back to school to have recess (maybe) and PE class (limited) and have class in portable classrooms with no air conditioning (sad but true). Seriously?

Switching to the school topic - it's another year with my fun PTA. Still being run by the same bunch of nimwits doing the same thing year after year after year. At Sneak a Peek (misspelled 'Peak' for the fifth year in a row, too!), the same two women who have been Room Moms every single year I've been there signed up to be Room Moms for this class. Oh, wait - something did change, they've never done it TOGETHER. So woo hoo progress! Yay!! But Seriously?

And finally, Hovering Soccer Dad the wannabe did plant his weird self over with the coaches at aforementioned tournament even though the Head Coach told him he wasn't a coach. No, wait, Head Coach took the diplomatic route and told him that at this level, only CERTIFIED coaches could coach so Hovering Soccer Dad the wannabe has now e-mailed that he's enrolled in the Class E Certification course at the end of the month. Teensy problem though, you have to have the previous class certifications to do the E and I really really wanted someone to lie to this bozo and tell him he had to start with Z and work his way up. Seriously? This idiot came to tryouts with his agenda and he's not going away. I swear I will take a photo (blurring his face of course) of how dorky weird this guy is and post it here. Seriously?

Holy crap, I need a margarita to get through my life some days!!!

VM

The Ghost of Gym Teacher Past

2009-07-29T09:59:00.004-04:00

There's a new (not so) superhero in town, folks. Ta da - HOVERING SOCCER DAD! He swoops onto the field in his tight polyester shorts and gym socks. He pierces the silence with his very own gold plated whistle. He instructs nine year olds in a single sentence. Oh, but wait - Hovering Soccer Dad is a maverick - a rogue - but he is not a coach. Not by a long shot!

Let me clarify. Hovering Soccer Dad is the parent of one of our new players. A few observant parents noticed that Hovering Soccer Dad came to tryouts with an agenda so obvious he almost carried a neon sign reading 'put my daughter on the team and I'll help with anything.' Only his 'help' consists of lameass instructions that are completely wrong or opposite from what the coach teaches the girls. He told our best goalie to throw the ball not punt it because it'd go further. Best goalie looked at him like his head was made of cheese and proceeded to punt the beejeezus out of that ball. Hovering Soccer Dad then said - 'oh, you can punt it then'. Best goalie did at least wait until he turned his back to roll her eyes at him.

And, against the advice of another coach and two parents who know this family, our coach accepted the package deal of player and Hovering Soccer Dad. I think we'd have been far more forgiving had player shown the potential of being the next Mia Hamm, but from what a few of the current players and parents are at the same school as this family stated, player is a pain in the butt drama queen bully and our very astute nine year old girls stated matter of factly after tryouts that they did not like her at all. And yet, player and Hovering Soccer Dad are on the team.

Or rather PLAYER is. Hovering Soccer Dad seems to think he's a coach - or some kind of helper without which practice will not function. He sprained his ankle before the season practices started so we had no idea until this week - at the mandatory evening camp for the team - how demented this guy was. Dude pranced right out onto the field clad in polyester gym shorts (a la 1970) and gold plated whistle and began telling the girls to warm up. Fine, nice little helper people are good to have. Until they start opening their mouths and telling players to kick the ball with their toes (no), play defense wide from the goal (no) and - with exception of our best goalie - to throw not punt. No no no no a thousand times NO!

And this time, I didn't have to be the vocal one on the team. Several other parents made comments ranging from 'who's that guy' to 'get that dork off the field' and we brought that to the coach. Our coach, God love him, was oblivious to the agenda of Hovering Soccer Dad and was just appreciating the help corralling nine year old girls. Until we pointed out the bad 'coaching' advice Hovering Soccer Dad was doling out. He's promised to speak with Hovering Soccer Dad so we'll see what happens tonight.

I seriously wouldn't put it past Hovering Soccer Dad to throw a fit and pull his kid from the team. Which would be fine by me. We have quite enough drama on that team without adding another queen and her dorky helper daddy.

What Tomorrow May Bring

2009-07-26T10:00:00.003-04:00

I only wish I was waxing philosophic about the future but alas, not so.

Today is 'New Year's Day' at the VERY LARGE COMPANY where I work. A new fiscal year - but without the big bash to usher it in. New fiscal years mean change - lots and lots of change. VERY LARGE COMPANY has succeeded where many have not by not only embracing change but creating it and partying that sucker on in. Change is good - to a point.

The point being, what change will affect people - specifically me. (Hey, it's my blog, I can be selfish here!) "Change" to VERY LARGE COMPANY usually means people change first - or rather people reduction = change for bottom line. VERY LARGE COMPANY is publicly traded and highly successful - I don't fault the powers that be there one little bit. But change is hard and scary and in this particular economy right now, downright horrific considering the potential to find a new job around here.

Rumors abounded last week about reductions in force, who was going where if anywhere, and what was going down. The only one I knew about for sure made me sad. My very best bud at work had his position eliminated and there was no plan given for an alternative role. He's resigned to the fact that come tomorrow, he has no job and will be saying goodbye. I'm hoping for a miracle - a reprieve of sorts - a stay of execution of that plan. In this case, hope can be the only strategy you have. I hope I hope I hope . . .

As for me, I think (hope) I'm OK - at least until January. I am not an employee but a contractor. In fact, my contract was set up incorrectly so technically speaking, I'm a temp. My contact has been extended twice. Two is supposed to be the end all limit for extensions at VERY LARGE COMPANY. We'll see if I can make third time the charm in January when said contract expires. My counterpart out west wasn't set up as a temp so his contract can go POOF at any time. But realistically speaking, it probably won't. Not this week anyway. We will see what tomorrow brings.

For now, we're also told it's business as usual for us. Business as usual when your co-workers and friends are being axed all over the place is hard. Standard for this time of year but still hard. Tomorrow will bring way more than that normal case of 'The Monday's', it's bringing apprehension and dread. I hope there isn't as much change as was rumored last week. I hope my best bud gets placed elsewhere in the organization. I hope I make it to lunch intact and not crying if the first two hopes aren't realized. I hope change really isn't the bitch she can be tomorrow.

Hope. Yeah, this time, it's the only strategy I have. Stay tuned . . . .

VM

Mommy Olympics - New Event Announced!

2009-07-20T12:52:00.004-04:00

I hate the Mommy Olympics. They start with pregnancies and never freaking end. When you're pregnant, certain other women will tell you that THEIR pregnancy was the best/worst ever or what THEY did, ate, did not eat or breathed in was better for their baby than whatever the hell you're doing. Then, God help you if you compare deliveries - theirs was longer, more natural, and much more painful than anything you ever could have experienced. Plus, whatever method they used ensured them a perfectly beautiful, brilliant, athletic baby that will surely outshine yours in every area of life thus setting up the 'my kid's shit doesn't stink' game that will follow you through the formative, school and college years. And you cannot win the Mommy Olympics - ever. They don't end, there are no time outs, and the rules change depending on who you're playing with. In other words, they suck!

Oh, but wait, now there seems to be a new event looming. Motherhood 'classification'. Oh joy!

Let me 'splain. See, last week, I was listening to Dave Ramsey's show.. I like Dave. I like his common sense approach to finance and debt. But I am not totally punch drunk on Dave's Kool Aid. Dave is much more of a traditionalist than I am. His wife was a stay at home mom and he is always more pro- mom stay home than not. I find this kind of hypocritical when he's hawking the 'get out of debt' stuff and some chickie calls in saying their family is $84,000 in debt with a household income of 'about $50K. Dave then asks his standard questions and chickie will say that her husband is working five jobs and she's staying home with the kids. She actually sounds proud to say this. I end up yelling at the radio.

It is NOT OK to drive your husband into an early grave just so you can 'stay home with the kids'. Start your own damn daycare, work nights, do something to pull your weight if you're that deep in debt but for God's sake, woman, don't make your poor husband kill himself so you can stay home with the kids. ESPECIALLY if they're school age! You have about six hours where you could get off your ass and make a buck or two while they're learning how to read.

What got me last week was this very scenario but the chickie said 'I'm a Full Time Mom'. Excuse me? What the eff am I? The fact I work 8-5 doesn't make me a 'part time mom' so WTF is with this superior 'Full Time Mom' status these chickies are making up to give themselves some kind of justification for staying home with the kids. Those chickies are also the ones who tend to make the snide remarks a la Dr. Bitchfromhell or get uber snooty to us working moms as if we're less than mothers for holding down a job.

Look, I get that these things are choices. I'm not slamming women for being stay at home moms, I'm slamming the stay at home moms who are so bitchy and act so superior to us working moms. I'm slamming the bitches in my PTA who make those cracks and set the schedules so that a working mom can't do squat. I'm slamming anyone who thinks that their personal version of 'motherhood' is more 'full time' than anyone else's.

Seriously, what the eff? Am I a 'part time' mom now? Screw that!

Oh well, does this mean the Mommy Olympics will have two divisions now - the Full Time and Part Time categories? Whatever!

"Full Time Mother" - indeed! We're ALL full time mothers - get over yourselves!!!

VM

Isms and Ists

2009-07-16T16:05:00.008-04:00

In the immortal words of Ferris Bueller:

Not that I condone fascism, or any -ism for that matter. -Ism's in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism, he should believe in himself.

however, if I want to get ticky here, I should re-quote that SHE should believe in HERself. But that'd be swerving into feminism and kind of negates the whole non-condoning of isms part of the quote, right? And I'd never really considered myself a 'feminist' - more of an individualist or humanist, but that's still an 'ist' so once again, I defeat the purpose of non-condoning isms per Mr. Bueller. So what leads me down this Ism/Ist path right now? Couple of things . .

First up, L'il Vinegar's dentist. Or rather L'il Vinegar's dentist's office wall. There's a great quote up there:

Don't tell your daughter to marry a doctor or a lawyer, tell her to become one!

I love that! Why do so many people - men and women - still have this inane idea that poor wittle defenseless young women need to be taken care of by big strwong men? What a load of hooey! Between the dentists wall and work this week, I saw the two extremes. A successful attractive, walking upright, clean non bum of a male co-worker is unmarried and currently unattached at the moment. A fellow female co-worker was chiding him that he needed a woman in his house because - and I quote - 'You're good looking, working, have a car and can take care of a good woman'. to which I told him to run like hell if that particular good woman showed up on his doorstep. Fellow female co-worker looked at me like I was nuts. Since that particular female co-worker is one I really don't care for whatsoever, I didn't care and elaborated to the male co-worker that if he wanted a so called 'good woman' he needed to make sure he found one who didn't 'need' him but wanted him. Big huge honking difference - as I explained.

A woman that 'wants' a man is a woman who who can live, exist and support herself on her own without one. She may or may not work - this isn't the stay-at-home versus work out of the home debate, this is about women who recognize they have a brain and resources and aren't afraid to use them! To them, the man is not an accessory to be worn or a paycheck to be cashed, but a companion, an equal, a yin to her yang; salsa to her chips. He doesn't have to 'complete' her because she wasn't missing pieces in the first place. A woman who 'needs' a man is a freeloading twit who is one step above prostitute and several pay grades beneath one. A woman who 'needs' a man is one who negates her own personal worth and latches on to his. Those women piss me off.

My male co-worker got it. My female co-worker stormed off. Probably to call one of her boyfriends to beg him to pay her cell bill or whine about how someone hurt her fee fees and only a trip to the mall could possibly make her feel better. (Insert huge eye roll here). Can you tell my opinion of that particular female co-worker is only slightly better than that of dryer lint? She's in the 'piss me off' category of women to me.

So in the perspective of being a woman who can support and care for herself, yeah, I'm an "Ist' practicing the 'Ism'. Want to watch me go into orbit, put a die hard sexist jerk in front of me and see how we interact. From the Old Fart from the hoity toity soccer club to the redneck repairman who kept asking me if my husband was home - you both piss me off and should be ever grateful I'm not a gun owner or a black belt. You deserve to be smacked around a bit! Read my lips (er, blog) DO NOT DISCOUNT ME BECAUSE I AM FEMALE! Got that? Good!

Now the conundrum comes because I'm not a feminist in the sense that I feel the entire English language is oppressive to women. I won't demand the "Men Working" signs be changed or the little round things on the street be re-named 'Personhole cover'. I'm cool with referring to the Supreme Deity as 'Father' not 'Mother. And I find that conversation in the movie 'Legally Blonde' about changing 'semester' to 'ovester' hilariously ridiculous. I have a philosophy I use at work where I ask 'is this the hill you want to die on' when facing down situations that mildly irk or majorly tick me off. The use of gender specific phrases for certain things isn't my hill. To that, I'm not 'feminist' enough for the die hards. I'm cool with that, too. Just don't discount me because I lack the dangly parts you boys like to measure life with. I have a brain and I'm not afraid to use it - deal with it!

The next Ism and Ist that has me pondering lately is racism/racist. Or more specifically, the silliness that was the Senate hearings for Judge Sonya Sotomayor. Holy crap, you'd think she had "I hate white people' tattooed on her forehead from the political blowharding up there. If you've been under a rock lately, she's been raked over the coals for use of the phrase 'wise Latina woman' in her speeches.

As if by mentioning that - gasp - she's Latina, a woman, and smart enough to not only get through law school but also become a judge - was some kind of racist bigoted horrific remark aimed at putting down non Latinas, non women, and non-smart lawyer/judge types in the world.

Give it a rest, Senate dudes, it's a descriptive narrative in which she's saying that she has the smarts and wherewith all to make some pretty freaking decent decisions. The lady is not an 'Ist' practicing her 'Ism'. It'd be like me saying something like "I'd hope that a semi-bitchy Southern blogger could reach the conclusion that you are all honking morons grandstanding for your voters instead of doing your freaking job!" Only she says it nicer. And more people listen. But you get the point. Descriptive narrative about the speaker (and not of the House but the person talking/writing the thought). Deal with it!

For now, I'm keeping my 'hill to die on' philosophy to gauge how pissed off to get at things and loving the two quotes from Bueller ...Bueller ...Bueller and L'il Vinegar's Dentist. Words to live by - we should all try it!

VM

Saving Idiots from Themselves

2009-07-13T13:49:00.010-04:00

OK - at the risk of proving myself to be the most cold-hearted be-atch on the internet, I'm going on a bit of a rant here. Why should we, the sane, rational hardworking taxpayers of this country have to save the stupidest amongst us from their own stupidass stupidity? It's bad enough that there actually has to be a warning label on blow dryers not to use while sleeping or in the shower. Do we really have to throw money at personal idiotic behavior in the name of 'health care reform' now?

I got into a raging online debate recently over health care in this country. I'm not completely heartless or dense here, I know our current system is a holy hot mess. But when my fellow debater said that health care should be a 'right' given to all in this country, the die-hard Constitutionalist in me kicked in.

A 'right'? I think not! Unless you want to put the asterisk on there that we all have the right to suck toxins into our lungs by smoking; the right to hardened arteries by scarfing down fatty foods day in day out; and the right to cirrhosis of the liver by pounding down bourbon every night. I mean at some point, there's got to be some accountability here if my tax dollars are going to be involved. I'm already torked by these so called 'bailouts' given to corporate idiots who can't do math, don't piss me off further by making me pay for the cholesterol lowering meds of a Big Mac eating moron who wouldn't know a vegetable or a treadmill if he or she tripped over one!

Do I think basic preventative and wellness care should be available to all, of course I do. Do I think dental, eye, and mental health care should be included in that, you betcha. Do I think the US gubmint can do the best job of running aforementioned new improved health care programs - hell no! But most of all, do I think we need to take some personal responsibility for our own health and well being. You bet your sweet bippy I do!

I have enough faith in the public education system to believe that every adult should know by now that smoking is not good for you; fast food isn't the best choice you can make for dinner; and excessive anything can lead to some pretty serious problems. I defy any intelligent person to tell me that exercise isn't a good thing and that sunscreen is. Brush your teeth twice a day - and floss. Keep your hands and butt clean. None of this is new groundbreaking stuff here - a little common sense goes a long long way.

And yet, that flies out the window when we debate health care and reform.

I do think something needs to give here - let's start with big insurance and big Pharm. Let's start with thinking about giving every citizen the sweet health plans our congresspeople have. Let's start with taking care of ourselves first rather than waiting to be taken care of by our government. But let's freaking start somewhere - soon!!!

Just don't amend the Constitution to make health care a 'right' - unless you make being stupid a right, too! Then we're all covered!

Celebrity "Fidelity"

2009-07-06T10:20:00.006-04:00

Imagine if someone from another planet were to land here on earth and read the headlines or watched news stories for just a few days. They'd think everyone on this planet was famous, did drugs (or other stupid things), and cheated on their spouses. Of course if they stuck around long enough, aforementioned spouses would also talk about forgiveness and take the lying cheating bastards back into their lives. Our interplanetary visitor may mistakenly think we're a most tolerant and forgiving society and want to settle here. Yeah? Give me ten minutes with the alien and I'll set them straight.

On second thought, this may take a tad longer.

How do you explain Mark Sanford in ten minutes? Dude had this 'image' of himself as 'Marco' the dashing gringo seducing the Argentinian beauty. Dude trekked to another freaking continent to get a piece - then has the audacity to claim he's a 'born again Christian' and speaks of 'Christian love'. Okie dookie - guess the born agains don't have to adhere to that pesky seventh commandment. You know the one about not committing adultery - or in base terms, not diddling the Argentinan chick!

But I can almost explain this cad - he's a flipping characiture of power crazed horny politicians who just know some twit chick will be so blown away by his 'power, that she'd be happy to - well, blow away! Don't believe me, ask Monica - the patron 'saint' of politically seduceable twits! It's Jenny Sanford I'd have a hard time explaining to our alien friend. Or Hillary Clinton or Kobe Bryant's wife or a whole host of cheated upon spouses who seem to turn the other cheek.

I mean, thank God I've never been in their shoes, and I suppose it's way easier for the wife of some cheating Everyman to throw his philandering ass to the curb - it's probably a bit more of a challenge to toss his skivvies out the window of the governor's mansion or White House. But still - ladies, have some respect for yourselves. Sloppy seconds - ewwwww! Dudes have wandered - I say let 'em keep going! Good riddance. If they cheat once, they'll do it again - and again and again. No amount of money or perceived power is worth that to me. But I guess that's just me! Darn that self respect stuff, I just won't put up with that kind of crap - no matter the net worth involved.

Over the weekend, the worst possible cheating story came out. Steve McNair. Well, worst in that the dude is dead. Honestly, is anyone really surprised that an NFL star with the 'family man' image was a total fraud? I wasn't. Then again, I've never forgiven that hypocrite, Eugene Robinson for ruining the Falcons one and only Superbowl appearance for his little late night escapades. I never did hear if "Athletes in Action" ever snatched back that Bart Starr award they gave him that very morning for his "high moral character". Idiot! And to the best of my knowledge, his wife is still with him, too. Although the Falcons came to their senses and booted him out the following year.

Anyway, Steve McNair was murdered - supposedly by his 20 year old girlfriend. In the apartment registered to the both of them. After she got a DUI in the SUV registered to the both of them. Oh, and she's dead, too so it's probably a murder suicide thing. Or maybe a murder thing but still, dude who was supposed to be this great 'family man' was doing a little diddling on the side - and not exactly recreationally since there were auto and apartment leases involved. But what got me about this story was the quote from his buddy - one who probably knew about the extra curricular diddling so there goes his credibility in my book. I loved this one - dude says

People have certain things that they do in life,” said McNair’s longtime friend Robert Gaddy, who called 911. “We don’t need to look on the situation at this time (but) on the fact we just lost a great member of society.”

OH REALLY? A ' great member of society'? I'm sorry, I really hate to speak badly of the dearly departed but Steve McNair was hardly a 'great member of society' in my book. He was cheating on his wife - and sons! (Sorry, you diddle outside the marriage, you cheat on the WHOLE family not just the spouse). Steve McNair, rest in peace, was a philandering asshole who cheated on his wife! Now, if you want to pull that born again shit and say the seventh commandment doesn't count, then yeah, he's singing with the angels right now. However, if you believe that adultery is wrong - as I do - then Steve and those of his ilk, are in some kind of asexual purgatory right now - or a version of ninth grade Civics class listening to my old teacher Mrs. S say 'arright' nine thousand times while trying to explain the Constitution to surly 14 year olds.

Crazy thing is - I bet you if that alien polled all these cheaters, every one of them would say they believe gay marriage is 'wrong' because marriage is between a man and a woman and 'sacred'. And yet, look what they do with their marriages? Worse yet, look what their jilted spouses allow them to continue to do with their marriages. And that society still reveres them as celebrities or worse, 'great members of society'.

Think I can hitch a ride with that alien?

VM

Tributes

2009-07-01T11:31:00.005-04:00

A bunch of famous people have died recently - Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and of course, you can't escape the hype around Michael Jackson's unexpected demise. And all over the media, tributes to them all abound. While watching the umpteenth gazillionth special on Michael last night, I remembered a death a long long time ago and how a very simple tribute stuck with me.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, this is an example of that and that sometimes, one word is tribute enough:

When Mel Blanc died in 1989, I remember this tribute and was very moved by it. This amazing talent voiced characters of our childhood - characters who live on even though he's gone. I loved Bugs Bunny growing up - L'il Vinegar loves him now. Mel Blanc was timeless. But that one word and some very sad cartoon characters paying homage to the empty microphone said more than a gazillion television specials ever could - "Speechless"!

So, no disrespect to Ed, Farrah or Michael, but Mel's tribute by his beloved characters was and still is, one of the most powerful eulogies I've ever seen. Godspeed to all who have left us - recently and decades ago!

VM

Waking Giants

2009-06-29T10:22:00.007-04:00

I'll never forget Super Bowl XXVIII here in Atlanta. Buffalo versus Dallas. What a game. Not that I'm a huge football fan or anything, but it was one of those games that you just went - "Whoa, what just happened?". And probably one of those games the Buffalo Bills wish had ended at halftime. Buffalo was up 13-6 at the half, then the giant woke up. Dallas came out of that locker room and put up 24 unanswered points to win the whole shooting match.

Emmitt Smith won the MVP, in the same month his younger brother, Emory took that same honor for Clemson in the Chik-Fil-A Peach Bowl on the same field. Two amazing players, two amazing games. And my Uncle Frank, one of the biggest die hard Dallas Cowboys on the planet, was one happy guy! All was right with the world - unless you were a Buffalo Bill - in which case, you were still scratching your head thinking 'Whoa, what just happened?".

Over the weekend, the ghost of that Buffalo Bills team was in South Africa. The US Men's Soccer team had done the practically impossible and definitely most improbable. They'd made the final in their first FIFA tournament - ever. This little team that could - well, did! They were mocked, laughed at, embarrassed at the beginning of the Confederations Cup. Dismissed as just another typical American team of wannabes.

And then, they woke up. Beating Egypt and then toppling Spain - the number one team in the world - to make the final. All of a sudden, non soccer types woke up, too. We started to know names like Landon Donovan, Clint Dempsey, and Tim Howard. And we started paying attention to a group of American guys a world away because - at least in the first half of that game - they had more than a chance to make history - they were doing it. Up 2-0 against Brazil - the defending champions and defending World Cup winners, our boys poked the giant.

Then, the giant woke up. Bam Bam Bam. Just like that, Brazil fired off three unanswered goals to win the whole shooting match, 3-2. Whoa, what happened?

There were tears - of frustration - from a group of guys who put everything they had on that field and came up short - on the scoreboard. Of course ESPN and the media types lead the story with 'Americans blow a lead' and all that hype, but that's not the whole story. This group of guys went to South Africa with zero chance of making history - and yet they did. They were no match for the likes of Egypt, Spain, or Brazil - and yet they matched them - beating two of those teams and one of them for a half. This group of young men from America recharged soccer, reminded us that we love underdogs and Cinderellas, and gave the US Men something they haven't had for an upcoming World Cup. Hope! And while in business and politics, "Hope" isn't always the best strategy, in sports, it's a damn fine place to start.

Here's hoping this team brings one big honking alarm clock to wake up the world's giants in the future - because they proved they can hang with the big dogs this weekend. We'll get there - giants always fall!

Congratulations to the US Men's Soccer team. You may be wearing silver medals, but you won so much more than a gold this weekend. You won fans. You earned respect. And you gave us hope!

VM

Medical Mysteries and the Imperfect Human Body

2009-06-25T13:20:00.004-04:00

I'm sick. Not sick as in eliciting all kinds of sympathy and chicken soup sick. I'm LOUD sick, hacking and coughing away my voice sick. Annoying everyone within a mile radius of aforementioned hacking cough sick. (well, mostly Mr. Vinegar Martini but I've gotten a few looks from the Swine Flu Phobes at the grocery store this week, too). I have bronchitis. Also known as, a lung infection where there's basically snot that should be in my nose down in my lungs making me cough loudly, feel like crap, and generally be a complete pain in the butt to all around me. This sucks!

So all you medical types out there, answer me this - the same snot that starts in your nose can end up in your lungs and turn a simple sinus infection into bronchitis. Simple sinus infection is easy to self treat if caught early - just use saline and blow the crap out. But if same crap gets in your lungs, you're toast. What I don't get is if you can blow the crap out of your nose, why can't there be a way to blow it out of your lungs. It requires lung power to get enough force to blow the crap out of your nose so no added parts are required for the second request.

At first I thought we should be able to flush our lungs out like you can do with icky sinuses using a Netti Pot. But then I realized, that to purposely put salt water or saline in your lungs would just be drowning and probably not a good idea. Then it hit me - I take a deep breath to get the crap out of my sinuses, why won't that same deep breath get the crap out of my lungs?

It's a conspiracy of the drug companies I tell ya! Someone somewhere WANTED me to have to use an inhaler. Apparently there aren't enough asthmatics in the world buying the little inhaler doohickey so they made it necessary for bronchitis sufferers to use the darn thing too. Greedy bastards! The inhaler doohickey is gross. Now I'm purposely inhaling new crap to create the ability to exhale the old crap out. Alrighty then.

I think the only plus to having this ridiculously loud honking cough is that I'm scaring off small animals. Granted, the cat is currently one of those but considering we just plunked down a nice chunk o'change to rid the Vinegar household of unwanted small animals in the attic, I'm fine with terrorizing the housepet for a few more days.

For now, I'm still coughing - still feeling like crap and still wondering what the heck I'm inhaling to exhale the stuff I never wanted in there in the first place? Modern medicine is weird. Somehow I don't think the gubment could make it less so if they took it over either!

VM

Turning the Pages

2009-06-23T10:18:00.004-04:00

My 'baby' is nine today.

Nine! Almost double digits. Verging on tween-hood. Nine!

Holy crap - where did the years go? We watched a video of her at ten months over the weekend and it was like watching something from last week. She has the same eyes, expressions, mannerisms and funny eating habits. At ten months, it took her forever to eat a Saltine cracker. At nine years, she can take forever to finish a sandwich. She examines everything. She looks at what she's about to eat with the scrutiny of a scientist. She eats 'weird' - as we call it - tearing apart a sandwich to devour each section individually - because, as we all now know, food cannot touch other food. That's icky! Nine year olds can express that - ten month olds just gave a look the parents had to decipher.

On the video, ten month old L'il Vinegar would bite the cracker, then flip it over, then look at it, touch it, lick it, then bite it again. By God, she KNEW what she was eating and experienced it to the fullest. This past weekend, she did the same thing with a ham and cheese sandwich. I hadn't put the two together until just now. She hasn't changed that much I suppose. I look at her face now and see the same face in the baby pictures.

Last week, my mom sent me the most wonderful piece by Anna Quindlen entitled 'All By Babies Are Gone Now." You can Google the whole thing, I'm too lazy to copy and paste it here. It's a wonderful reminder to enjoy the little things. The day to day stuff. Milestones are remembered, really silly Tuesday nights aren't always chronicled in scrapbooks or on film (or digitized bits). Quindlen talks about her children and her memories but she had a couple of things in there that really jumped out at me:

Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. . . . . . . . . . That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.

She's spot on there. I tossed out the 'books' early on and have yet to find an 'expert' on how to raise my child. Besides, who needs an expert? What do they really know anyway? The endless essay continues, I just keep sharpening that pencil and turning the page. It's a wonderful journal to experience.

Happy Birthday L'il Vinegar!

VM

David - 1 - Goliath - $100,000

2009-06-18T09:58:00.005-04:00

Believe it or not, we won our grievance against the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club. Yup, Mister Nice Representative Person from the State Soccer Association called me yesterday with the good news. He said that the Committee upheld our complaint and found in our favor. And then, before I could even think WOO HOO to myself, he lobbed out the 'but'. And it was a bigass BUT.

The Committee in their infinite wussy wisdom also decided that since the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club gave us HALF our money back, that was good enough and we should bend over, take it and shut up about it. OK, not that last part, but still - holy geez, the entire POINT of this ordeal was to recoup our money.

Money that the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club just kept. Half of what we paid for two teams to enter the tournament that never happened. And I should be grateful to get half our money back for something that was never delivered? In what world is this considered acceptable? Not mine! No way. Just let me try to keep half the money I should pay my mortgage company and let's see how long that flies.

The Old Fart representing the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club whined about all their expenses they incurred even before the tournament happened. I wish I could turn back time and ask that SOB to provide detail of those expenses because I'm calling total bullshit on the fact they pre-paid HALF of what they took in prior to the tournament even kicking off? Yes, they had to secure the fields, but since it was a rainout, they didn't have to pay for them - they weren't keeping any other teams from using them. Referees - they get paid for services rendered not in advance so no cost there. General administrative costs of trophies, printing, forms, etc - yeah, I can see some of that outgoing before the ingoing hit the books. But not half.

Their stupid tournament website is still up. You can see how many teams entered and at what cost. Granted in some age groups there were two levels therefore two costs but using the LOWEST possible pricing, the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club stood to bring in right at $250K on entry fees alone. Toss in concessions, tee shirt sales and other possible money making opps while the event was going on and they could easily rake in more. So, basic third grade math here, take HALF of $250K and you're sitting on $125K for a freaking tournament that never happened. Yes they had to purchase trophies for the winners and runners up in every bracket - plus those 'administrative costs - but there's no way on earth they spent more than $25K on all that combined so the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club turned Mother Nature's fury into a freaking windfall for them. At the expense of clubs like ours.

I'll get over this - probably already am by the time I finish this post. But the pompous arrogance of those Old Farts coupled with the spineless 'ruling' from those wusses at the State Soccer Association had me hopping mad yesterday!. I hate gross injustices - and hollow victories.

I still hope those Old Farts have raging hemorrhoids right now - and that their stupid tournament tanks next year, too! I know it'll be a snowy blustery day in July before we enter it again!

But we 'won'. Whoopee! I wish they'd let us take it to Penalty kicks - I know I could take the Old Farts down!

Lobbing Spitballs at Goliath

2009-06-17T11:34:00.006-04:00

...and now we wait. Wait for vindication on whether or not our 'First' was worth it. It's over, the now infamous 'hearing' with the State Soccer Association. We came, we saw and we basically lobbed the legal equivalent of spitballs at the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club. And it was not at all what I expected - it was WAAAAYYY better!

First off, if you were worried or wondering or remotely concerned that sexist pigs are gone from the face of the earth let me set your mind at ease. They are not. I know this because I sat across a conference room table with three of them last night at the aforementioned hearing. Three Old Farts who had no problem reaching across the table to shake hands with our coach and the representative from the other team - both men - and yet blatantly ignored me even when I stood up and reached my hand out to meet them. Old Farts obviously ASSumed I was there to take notes or hold my purse or just be a sweet little team mom or some such. Idiots. Ain't nuttin sweet about me and I'm treasurer not team mom so don't mess with my funds, jerks!

When the ordeal finally began, our team was first to present. Since I put the complaint together, I did the presenting. Old Farts must have a problem with women speaking or some such nonsense because one of them started texting on his Blackberry and the other two were whispering amongst themselves. The Committee Member Dude looked mildly annoyed - I was way beyond 'mildly' so I stopped talking, looked committee member dude in the eye and said, please ask the gentlemen from the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club to refrain from side conversations so I may present this complaint. (We were instructed not to address one another directly but to only speak to the Committee Member Dude and his fellow Dudes). Committee Member Dude told Old Farts to shut the hell up - only nicer - way nicer than I would have done myself so it's a good thing we weren't speaking to each other directly.

I presented, the coach chimed in, the other representative backed up our comments and added his - for non-attorney types, we did a pretty good job stating our case, showing facts, and providing examples of why we felt the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club owed us a full refund for a tournament that never freaking happened. And then the head Old Fart had his turn.

Turned out that Old Farts #2 and 3 were not only board members of the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club but also Attorneys at Law, Jurist Doctors, scum of the earth ambulance chasing assholes. OK maybe not that last part but both were pretty damn proud of the fact they were Attorneys at Law and stated such. Luckily for us non attorney types, this wasn't a legal proceeding and Committee Member Dude had previously asked if any party was represented by legal council and Old Farts didn't disclose. Committee Member Dude was beyond mildly annoyed now and reminded Old Farts that they were not there in a legal capacity so sit down and shut yer pie hole. (OK, not that last part, but I could see it in his eyes, he wanted to say it).

Head Old Fart started droning on and on about the prestige of the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club and how they had a longstanding relationship with the State Soccer Association (sidebar, hey asswipe, we ALL have a relationship with the State Soccer Association - it's kind of a requirement to freaking have a TEAM! but I digress - and no, I didn't interrupt Old Fart with this little diddy). A few hours - OK, minutes - later, after he'd blah blah blahed about how fabulous their club is, how wonderful their tournament has been and that every other club they screwed out of money was grateful to have gotten anything back so how dare these two lowly YMCA (scoff) clubs defy them and file a complaint! He was already pompous Old Fart and now he was becoming an angry one, too! How cute!

Committee Member Dude was way over the mildly annoyed state and coming up fast on frustratedly pissed off status - so he asked - way nicer than I could or would have - Old Fart to get on with it. At that point, Old Fart produced a printout of their website. And on page two, there was a blurb about 'no refunds'. Old Fart proudly declared that they did have a refund policy for this tournament right there on the website so our complaint was moot. Old Farts then smiled smugly amongst themselves and concluded their rebuttal.

Our coach sighed. The other representative sighed. Old Farts practically started high fiving each other. And then - the lowly woman they wouldn't acknowledge earlier spoke. That would be ME!

See, I, too, had a printout of their website - and a copy of the published rules they had on a separate page as an attachment. So I asked for a copy of what Old Fart had just given the Committee Member Dude - which he passed to me. And for the next few minutes, I reviewed both side by side. Old Fart #2 - Attorney at Law - asked what I was doing. Committee Member Dude asked what I was looking for. I said I was just reviewing something. Then our Coach saw what I pointed out to him and stopped sighing. Then, I addressed Committee Member Dude as I'd been instructed saying I had a couple of questions.

I asked him to ask the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club Old Farts if it this was the full text that appeared on their website prior to and immediately following them canceling the tournament. He did and Old Fart said yes - Old Fart #2 -one of the Attorneys at Law - chimed in - 'to the best of our knowledge' so he could cover their asses in case lowly woman had a point here. Lowly woman did have a point!

I addressed the Committee Member Dude again and asked if the webmaster of their website could have possibly made any changes to this since March when the tournament was canceled. Old Fart indignantly said no to which Old Fart #2, Attorney at Law piped back - 'not to our knowledge'. Duly noted - asses duly covered - sort of.

I then pushed both sets of paper back at the Committee Member Dude and pointed out the dates on the bottom of the pages which showed the dates they were printed. My copy had March 5, 2009 as the date since this is when we started pulling together information to get our money back. Old Fart's copy had May 11, 2009 as his date. Committee Member Dude said the dates only showed a print date and didn't show date of content creation. Old Fart #2, Attorney at Law, agreed and looked even more smug than I thought possible. Actually, I agreed with Committee Member Dude but said that wasn't the complete point I was bringing to their attention.

I then asked Committee Member Dude and his fellow Dudes to look at two things. First - the fonts - specifically the font style and size change in the phrase

Once teams have been accepted, application fees are non-refundable.

as compared to the font style and size of the rest of the page. I did acknowledge that it may have been done that way for emphasis, but as a marketing manager who frequently writes and posts copy for websites, typically you use italics or bold for that kind of thing not a complete font style change. Before Old Farts could sputter an retort and do the obligatory Attorney At Law CYA, I continued.

I pointed out that in the sidebar where the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club announced their tournament was completely canceled - something of which I had not one but two copies that I'd included with our original grievance filing - if the Committee Member Dude and his fellow Dudes would please compare the wording of the two, they'd see there were not one but two misspelled words or typos in the copy provided by Old Fart and his Attorneys at Law. One of those was the freaking word 'CANCELED' which was spelled 'CANCLED" on their version.

Therefore the contention that their webmaster had not - to the best of their knowledge - done any editing to the text since March -were most likely not true. And since Old Fart #3 - the other Attorney at Law - had pulled their website up on his laptop to show that they did have the blurb in there about refunds (albeit in a different font) - those two misspellings/typos were still there but mysteriously not present on the copies I had pulled immediately after the tournament dates. Hmmm? Wonder what could have caused that teeny tiny little ole blunder? Gosh, I'm just a stupid woman unworthy of your handshake, I couldn't possibly figure out what happened to that website, now could I?

Old Farts hemmed and hawed and the two Attorneys at Law started sputtering about relevance and paper copies not being admissible or some such nonsense. Committee Dude reminded them they were not there in a legal capacity and this was HIS hearing and he'd accept and make relevant whatever he damn well wanted to. (OK, not that last part, but he wanted to say it - I'd bank on it!)

Committee Member Dude looked at me, and I just said, 'We believe we are entitled to a full refund of our tournament fees based on the fact the Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club did NOT have a written refund policy as required by the State Soccer Association." And then, I just sat back. Our coach nudged me. The other team representative winked at me. Old Farts shot me a look that could kill - so I shot it right back. Sexist lying assholes! Do NOT mess with the Soccer Treasurer - especially one with a brain, a lot of tenacity, and an affinity for putting moronic old jerks like you in your place! You broke the rules, you got caught and you had the audacity to think you could lie about it, fabricate some bullshit on the website and we'd cower away in fear? Screw that! Screw you, your Mighty Exclusive Hoity Toity Soccer Club, and your stupid tournament. You are NOT entitled to keep half our money when we didn't play one single game of soccer that weekend!

The Committee convened after we left the room and said that we'd get a call today or by the end of the week. I hope beyond all hope that we won this. I hope we stood up to Goliath and nailed him with a good juicy spitball. And I hope those Old Farts get raging cases of hemorrhoids - as an itchy reminder of what total assholes they are!

VM

Competitive Parents Part Deux - The Smackdown

2009-06-15T10:08:00.003-04:00

I dealt with the Grand Mac Daddy of competitive parents over the weekend. Faced that SOB and shut him down! BOO YA!!!! Damn that felt good, too!

I've known Grand Mac Daddy for a few years - pretty much couldn't stand he or his wife from the second we met them and my opinion of both hasn't exactly improved in the two years since. Grand Mac Daddy and that Shrew he's married to represent all that is truly wrong with my area - he's some worthless middle manager type who has to work three jobs because she refuses to work to help out the family since she has to head up the stupid welcome PTA desk at school or some equally ridiculous role just to make her feel superior to all others on the planet. He's a total tool, she's a complete bitch. Why are we not surprised they're also uber competitive parents trying to compensate for their shortcomings as human beings? We're not. But at least I got to have some fun with it!

L'il Vinegar wanted to go see two of her buds' play softball. Offspring of Grand Mac Daddy and the Shrew also plays on the team. Not that I realized it for the first full game since Shrew planted herself as far away from the team parents and guests as she could. Seriously, this wench was plopped in a lawn chair under an umbrella and was only missing minions peeling her grapes and fanning her to pull off the complete Queen Bitch role. By the time I realized Offspring was on the team, the game was over and Grand Mac Daddy and Shrew high tailed it out of there until the next game. Fine by me - and 99.99% of the other parents from what I could gather, too!

But in Game 2, they returned and for whatever reason, Grand Mac Daddy decided to come talk to me. Oh, wait, he probably saw me as new meat to start a game of 'my kid is soooo much better than your kid' because within seconds of the general hello pleasantries, I heard about how it was such bullshit that his son didn't make the hockey team this year and how the school called about Offspring's CRCT test scores and how they're the highest in the history of the school, or the universe, or freaking EVER - who seriously gives a flying rip?

This moron kept on and on and on about how Offspring's scores were so high that the principal was really pressuring them to skip her at least one if not two grades so I took the bait and asked in my sweetest syrupy Southern voice "Golly Gee, how high were her scores?" To which, Grand Mac Daddy also took that bait and spewed 'She scored over Eleven Hundred on her reading!'. And then the bitch gene kicked in. I couldn't help it - I had to say it - and so I did!

I smiled as sweetly as someone like me could have mustered up and said' Wow, I thought the highest score on the CRCT was a 950 - gosh, she must be freaking BRILLIANT!' And then I watched him sputter and spew and find a reason to walk away. Lying sack of crap! Another mom publicly high fived me for calling him out on it. Seriously - what the hell? It's bad enough that Grand Mac Daddy and the Shrew feel the need to brag incessantly about their Offspring, but to flat out lie about it is just ridiculously stupid and petty! But considering the source, why am I surprised? I'm not!

Grand Mac Daddy avoided me for the rest of the day - fine - that was kind of the hopeful point to my bitchiness so yay - it worked!!! I'm so over competitive parenting right now - I cannot promise I'll be nice, or even polite if I'm faced with them again so watch out! Oh, and if you're planning to be one of those, at least get your story straight before you start bragging about how perfect or smart or wonderful your Offspring is - because I'm no dummy and I will call your ass out on it!

VM

Parenting as Competitive Sport

2009-06-12T12:44:00.003-04:00

Should it be an Olympic Sanctioned event or a Pay-Per-View smack down? Regardless, silly me, little did I realize when I downloaded L'il Vinegar, I was entering into the competitive sport of Motherhood. Or rather, the 'my-kid's-shit-doesn't-stink-and-let-me-tell-you-all-about-it' disease - it's not fatal but it can be contagious if one is not properly braced for exposure.

It all started with the end of school and report cards. Why is it some parents feel compelled to call you to tell you every single grade their precious offspring earned that school year? How did I ever exist not knowing that little Chauncey received all A's on his report card and to hear about every single one of them was the highlight of my day!!! I loved the half hearted 'oh, what did L'il Vinegar get?' question when that parent finally came up for a breath. Yeah, that just oozed sincerity! Considering L'il Vinegar gets those ridiculous 'O's' and 'S's' instead of real grades, she did just fine thankyouverymuch. As if I actually give a ratsass whether she's an 'O' or an 'S' since I doubt Harvard goes back to third freaking grade transcripts when making those crucial admission decisions. But yeah, OK, fine - your kid is so much smarter than mine - here's your medal! You win - yay go team Uterus!!!

Yesterday, I was able to get L'il Vinegar's CRCT (aka stupid standardized bullshit test) scores and ran into one of the Motherhood Olympians on the way out of the school. Olympic Mom proceeded to tell me that little Percy scored 'Exceeds All Possible Test Standards In The Universe' on his CRCT. No lie, little creep is the smartest third grader in the whole damn universe and don't you DARE even try to compete with that. Percy apparently had perfect scores in areas they didn't even test - I'm pretty sure she said he got all 900 quantum physics questions correct, too! Whatever. Your kid is a much better test taker than mine - here's your trophy. You win - yay go team Uterus!!!

L'il Vinegar is at soccer camp all week and wouldn't you know it, when I was picking her up, I walked smack into one of the less friendly definitely less liked moms on her team. And of course HER child was at a different sports camp that week and doing so much better in that new sport than my child could or would ever dream of doing in soccer and blah blah blah blah blah something about my kid's shit has never stunk and yours has. Well la tee freaking da. Soccer, volleyball, softball - who cares? It's a freaking RECREATIONAL Camp not Olympic Tryouts! But little Hortense is such a wonderful athlete she could take up extreme tiddlywinks on rollerblades and the high wire and would be the best nine year old to ever attempt that sport - ever. In the history or everness so don't even bother talking about any accomplishment your child may have done. Yawn - your kid is faster, stronger, and can leap tall buildings in a single bound - here's your cape. You win - yay go team Uterus!!

So let's just cut to the chase here and get it over with. If you are reading this and so inclined to play the game, I quit - forfeit - taking my toys and getting off the field! Your child is prettier, smarter, faster, stronger, a better athlete, musician, tiddlywink player, singer, actor, candlestick maker, and an overall much better human being than mine will ever hope to be! You win!

Feel better now? Good - now you and your perfect little specimen can get the heck out of my way!

VM

The Patron Saint of Lost Causes

2009-06-10T09:08:00.005-04:00

FYI - It's not Saint Jude - he's busy with a very nice Children's Hospital at the moment. My patron saint is Saint Mortimus Horseus. I'm currently looking for that medal to wear around my neck to help this patron saint guide me through this strange time. For now - my apologies to Monty Python and for my horrific English accent:

VinegarMartini enters a pet shop dragging a dead horse.
Mrs. Martini: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The owner does not respond.)
Mrs. Martini: 'Ello, Miss?
Owner: What do you mean "miss"?
Mrs. Martini: I'm sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
Owner: We're closin' for lunch.
Mrs. Martini: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this horse what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
Owner: Oh yes, the, uh, the Mortimus Horseus...What's,uh...What's wrong with it?
Mrs. Martini: I'll tell you what's wrong with it, my lad. 'E's dead, that's what's wrong with it!
Owner: No, no, 'e's uh,...he's resting.
Mrs. Martini: Look, matey, I know a dead horse when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now.
Owner: No no he's not dead, he's, he's restin'! Remarkable horse, the Mortimus Horseus, idn'it? Beautiful lines!
Mrs. Martini: The lines don't enter into it. It's stone dead.
Owner: Nononono, no, no! 'E's resting!
Mrs. Martini: All right then, if he's restin', I'll wake him up! (shouting at the horse) Ello, Mister Ed! I've got a lovely fresh apple for you if you show...
(owner smacks the horse)
Owner: There, he moved!
Mrs. Martini: No, he didn't, that was you smacking his arse!
Owner: I never!!
Mrs. Martini: Yes, you did!
Owner: I never, never did anything...
Mrs. Martini: (yelling and shaking the horse repeatedly) 'ELLO ED!!!!! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o'clock alarm call! (Shakes the horse and thumps its head on the counter. Pushes on it and watches it plummet to the floor.)
Mrs. Martini: Now that's what I call a dead horse.
Owner: No, no.....No, 'e's stunned!
Mrs. Martini: STUNNED?!?
Owner: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin' up! Mortimus Horseuses stun easily, Miss.
Mrs. Martini: Um...now look...now look, mate, I've definitely 'ad enough of this. That horse is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not 'alf an hour ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein' tired and shagged out following a prolonged whinny.
Owner: Well, he's...he's, ah...probably pining for the fjords.
Mrs. Martini: PININ' for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why did he fall flat on his back the moment I got 'im home?
Owner: The Mortimus Horseus prefers keepin' on it's back! Remarkable horse, id'nit, Miss? Lovely lines!
Mrs. Martini: Look, I took the liberty of examining that horse when I got it home, and I discovered the only reason that it had been standing upright in the first place was that it had been NAILED down.
(pause)
Owner: Well, o'course it was nailed down! If I hadn't nailed that horse down, it would have galloped off into the fields and VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
Mrs. Martini: "VOOM"?!? Mate, this horse wouldn't "voom" if you put four million volts through it! 'E's bleedin' demised!
Owner: No no! 'E's pining!
Mrs. Martini: 'E's not pinin'! 'E's passed on! This horse is no more! He has ceased to be! 'E's expired and gone to meet 'is maker! 'E's a stiff! Bereft of life, 'e rests in peace! If you hadn't nailed 'im down 'e'd be pushing up the daisies! 'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory! 'E's off the twig! 'E's kicked the bucket, 'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin' choir invisible!! THIS IS AN EX-HORSE!!
(pause)
Owner: Well, I'd better replace it, then. (he takes a quick peek behind the counter) Sorry Miss, I've had a look 'round the back of the shop, and uh, we're right out of horses. . . . you'll have to continue to beat this one...

And so . . . I will! Stay tuned - there may be a resurrection miracle in my future! But I promise this - one way or another, that damn horse is moving somewhere!

VM

Ingenius Invention

2009-06-05T09:25:00.003-04:00

You know how they have those breathalyzers people can voluntarily use to make sure they're not impaired before they drive? Well, I want to invent a colognizer - where you have to pass by it to make sure you haven't marinaded yourself so much in your cheap drugstore perfume/cologne that you're going to make people gag when you go out.

I'll make a fortune! It'll be the talk of those late night infomercials. I could win a Nobel Freaking prize for saving the world from the stench of the hyper-floral scents of anything by Coty or Faberge. I'd be a heroine in offices and cube farms everywhere saving the American worker from insensitive smelly co-workers.

Ah - I can dream, can't I?

Sadly, for now, I'm suffering with the odor lingering across the cube by the woman who decided her discount cologne needed to be shared with us all. I swear she must have bathed in it, washed her clothes in it and brushed her teeth with this vile rancid fume she was sold at the local dollar store/car wash in her area. Holy mother of pearl, this crap reeks! I'm seeing green smoke rising from her cubicle like some ghostly fog. This shit STANKS! I'd rather be sitting near day old vomit covered in dog poo than this sticky sweet floral crap!!

Until I can get my invention patented, I have to wonder, how badly do you smell that you feel the need to cover that smell with another equally icky one? And has your original smell damaged your nostrils to the point that you cannot spell the bad smell or the equally icky one you're trying to cover it up with?

Pee-yew.

VM

Post It Wisdom

2009-06-01T10:27:00.002-04:00

I have a wonderful co-worker who keeps me grounded and sane. We both have the same temperament and frustrations here so we bounce stuff off each other all the time. This morning he's back all refreshed and positive after a vacation at the beach and was able to give me some amazing advice for the stuff irking me lately. He wrote it on a post-it and it's up in my office now:

Get Curious ... Not Furious.

Meaning, when stuff starts irking the crap out of me to the point of venting, bitching or exploding, turn it around and ask myself 'what can I do different'? Reversing the gripe to a question reframes the entire situation. I promised to try - not sure if I can live up to that promise right now but I will try.

I know I focus on the things that irk me too much. Heck, 99% of this blog is stuff that irks me but I've always thought of getting it out as therapeutic versus griping. I guess sometimes it consumes me more than it should. So I promised to try. It's going to be hard - especially because I'm knee deep in a bad case of The Monday's right now and incredibly irked at a situation that occurred last night. I'm not sure the curiosity part will pull me out of this funk - but we'll see. In the immortal words of Bull Durham, "We're dealing with a lot of of shit".

We'll see. Sometimes Post Its say enough!

VM

Soccer Mom 2.0

2009-05-29T10:18:00.004-04:00

L'il Vinegar had her day made before 7am! Mr. Vinegar showed her the e-mail on his Blackberry inviting her to join the U10 Academy team. She screamed 'YAY' and started jumping on the bed but I had to giggle. See, I knew she'd made it. The Coach flat out told me she was going to be coming back for the U10 season over two weeks ago. But Mr. Vinegar and I thought it was an important lesson for her to attend the tryouts, give it her all, and wait it out for that official invitation. L'il Vinegar did it after sporting a 101 degree fever yesterday!

So now, as she enters her second season as an Academy player, I enter my 2.0 phase of Soccer Momhood. I'm not sure what this will entail - I already have the magnetic soccer ball on the back of the Jeep. We already schedule our weekend lives around where we're playing and whether the weather will cooperate. I'm already the unofficial adopted mom of the wayward player whose older siblings schedules conflict with ours. And I already get umpteen gazillion calls or e-mails from the Coach for everything from budget available to general team chatter. Seriously, what does Soccer Mom 2.0 do?

If he wants my opinion, he can ask - and he has. In fact, if he were to ask right now, I'd tell him that that pushy dad who raced out on the field to 'help' out with tryouts last night has a serious agenda. He wants his kid on the team - he wants the 'child of coach' discount - and he is a complete bumbling dunderhead if he thinks we didn't see through that 'Little Helper' crap he was spewing. Plus, the 'help' he was offering the existing team players was stupid. Little Helper knows nothing about soccer and was instructing the girls completely wrong. When eight and nine year olds are rolling their eyes at your coaching - you really suck at it!

If the coach were to ask me to elaborate, I'd tell him Little Helper's daughter has a reputation at her elementary school for being a Whiner/Drama queen/Outright Bully. Our current players will chew her up, spit her out, and sell tickets to watch it if she pulls that crap on them. There was a little bit of it at tryouts and L'il Vinegar and her buds wasted no time telling Whiner/Drama queen/Outright Bully to stick it! In fact, L'il Vinegar and one bud in particular had no problem telling me and bud's mother that they really hoped Whiner/Drama queen/Outright Bully wasn't on their team. Again, if eight and nine year olds are saying a peer is a pain in the butt, peer must be a total pain in the butt!

If the coach wanted more of my opinion, I'd tell him that one of the tryout-ees was a former player on our Rec team and while she may have an amazing strong kick, she's disruptive, lazy, and has delusional parents who seem to think she has talent. Of course they do - they don't actually come to games because they have other 'star' children in other sports. They'd send this girl with some 'uncle' who was - hm, how to put this delicately - off his freaking rocker!!! This dude would just yell 'KICK DE BALL' at her all the time. So she would - kick de ball away from her own teammates. I guess Uncle Fester was telling the absent 'rents that she was some kind of Mia Hamm or something so they brought her out for Academy tryouts. L'il Vinegar remembered that kid - not so fondly - so the look on her face was the eight year old equivalent to "WHAT THE EFF?" and made me giggle to myself. She's definitely my kid - wears her heart and emotions all over her face for the world to see!

But the thing is - I know the dynamic of this team - my child knows the dynamic of this team. And we both know what and who will NOT fit. In the two examples above, not only would the players not fit - whomever would be on the sidelines for that player would not fit either. The few players/families who are not returning were our problem kids last season, let's not keep that quota going and replace the nutjobs with new blood for next season - PLEASE!

Maybe that's Soccer Mom 2.0 - the team voice of reason; the peace keeper of team dynamic; the 'Oh No You Don't' hammer of truth? Whatever it is, I'm ready - as long as dunderhead Little Helpers, Uncle Festers and the drama queen kids stay out of our way! Do they make a car magnet for that role?

VM

Products that Never Should Have Been Invented!

2009-05-27T12:23:00.003-04:00

Aside from the obvious - automatic weapons, pantyhose, and high heels - there's one invention that should have never seen the light of day. The Gas Powered Leaf Blower!

Seriously - it's loud, it's smelly, it emits pollution and it's sole purpose is to blow crap from point A to point B - with point B usually being someone else's property! And what exactly is the purpose of blowing leaves onto a busy street where cars are just going to blow them back on the sidewalk? Or blowing your grass clippings into your neighbor's yard so he can blow them back or into someone else's yard?

I don't get it!

All I know is in front of our building right now, there's a busy little landscaper blowing crap all over the parking lot and getting paid for it! Who says we're in a recession - what a country! You can earn a living blowing crap around!

VM

Corporate Karma

2009-05-20T12:41:00.005-04:00

Years ago I worked for a total Dunderhead. The absolute most self absorbed hypocritical under-educated moron on the planet who bullshat (bullshitted?) his way to an executive level position. I've worked for quite a few dunderheads in my lifetime - this dude was their King. It took me exactly one hour into my first day to realize he was full of crap but I liked the company and the job - and since he lived to go visit customers - it was bearable. For me, at least, not sure how the customers felt about him.

Dunderhead managed to pull off some kind of corporate coups and landed himself in the top role in the company. The poor schmo he pushed out was barely out of the parking lot when Dunderhead was ordering his new business cards and demanding we address him as Mister President. (OK not that last one, but I'm sure it crossed his mind). Dunderhead was quite pleased with himself and then he proceeded to run the poor company into the ground.

To make a long and rather bitter story short, Dunderhead called me into his office one day and said that he needed to concentrate on sales, so he was eliminating marketing - meaning me since I was the one and only marketing manager in the company at the time. Alrighty then. Good luck with 'sales' then - and I scampered on my merry way with a pittance of severance and a buttload of anger at Dunderhead.

Seriously, there are not many nice things I can say about Dunderhead short of that he does walk upright and has an opposable thumb. Whether or not he's actually human remains to be determined - but he's pulling off the look pretty well so he's got that going for him. Else wise, dunderhead is not my favorite person in the world nor is he on my Christmas Card list. Nuff said!

I moved on to bigger and better things and he proceeded to take a perfectly good company and totally destroy it. Last time I heard from an 'insider' over there, people were dropping like flies - by his hands; sales were in the toilet and it wasn't just the recession. Dunderhead couldn't manage his way out of a paper bag with directions printed on it. But like other vile things in this world like cockroaches and Twinkies, Dunderhead was still standing. Until recently - or so I take it by this chirpy cutesy e-mail I got from him yesterday.

Seems Dunderhead is Mister President no more. Or as he put it - he's joined the 'ranks of the ex-insert company name here employees.' Well la tee freaking da. Since I was an ex-insert company name here employee myself - at his hands mind you - that makes us blood brothers now? I think not! His e-mail was perky but the hidden implication was there. You don't reach out to people you cut off at the knees unless you really really need something.

And the thing Dunderhead really really needs is help landing a job. I now work at the place he'd kill to work for. God knows he mentioned it a gazillion times when I worked for him - namedropping key company people, talking about how he was a genius at selling this company's products when he worked for a partner, blathering on about the "Coveted Company" way. Blah blah blah blah. And the thing he cast off - that'd be moi - now works for his Mecca. Isn't that cute?

I had a moment there when I got his e-mail where I considered deleting it. But I'm a huge believer in karma - especially of the corporate variety. What goes around comes around and all that. So I e-mailed back - all chirpy cutesy about how fabulouso life is and how I love my job at "Coveted Company" yadda yadda yadda. And then, sigh, I took that karma induced high road and offered to help him. I threw up a little in my mouth writing it, but I did offer the Dunderhead my expertise and contacts.

No word back from the Dunderhead yet but I'm sure I will hear from him. One of the still non ex-insert company name here's employees told me a few years back that he was pea green with envy when word got back I was at 'Coveted Company'. Dunderhead couldn't get hired by them when he was a top performing sales rep at a partner and his non-essential Marketing cast off could? Must have driven him crazy! The bastard!

For now - I wait. And I know that in the corporate universe, I have done what is right - even if it made me a little sick at the time.

VM

Hooked on Phonics Gone Wrong

2009-05-19T09:08:00.003-04:00

First an update on "The First" thing. It's been rescheduled until June. Ten to one it gets pushed out to August but we'll see.

On to other topics - L'il Vinegar provided me with one of the best giggles I've had in years over the weekend. We were in the Health and Beauty section of the grocery store picking up band aids when she asked me what a word meant. I had to have her repeat it because I didn't hear her at first. The following is a close enough recap of our conversation:

LV - Mommy, what's a hummy differ?
VM - A what?
LV - a hummy differ.
VM - I have no idea - what are you looking at.
LV - this - a Spongebob hummy differ. What is it?
VM - looks over at the box on the shelf and doubles over laughing.
LV - What? Why are you laughing?
VM - gasping - Sweetie - that's a HUMIDIFIER. It puts moisture into the air

She's still mad at me for laughing so hard but that was one of the cutest phonetical pronunciations I've ever heard.

Ah - kids. Sometimes they do exist for our amusement!

VM

Somebody's Gotta Go First

2009-05-15T11:30:00.004-04:00

"He was a bold man that first ate an oyster..." Johnathon Swift

I like Swift - biting sarcasm, quick wit, direct - totally my kind of guy. And the dude's got a point, can you imagine what that person who ate the first oyster was thinking? Probably some sailor stranded on an island somewhere, starving to death and desperate. Betcha he was wishing for a Saltine and some hot sauce, though.

Anyway, my point is that someone's GOT to be the first - whether it's scarfing down an oyster or taking on the system. And sometimes the thing we take on isn't as huge as what Rosa Parks did, but it's got to be done. I'm having a 'First' next week - well me and the soccer team*. Asterisk being there to represent those who decided to chime in days before said 'First' that it wasn't a good idea even though they've known about it for, oh, let's do the math here, SIXTY DAYS! So, to all you ASSterisks, sit down and shut up.

Here's what happened. Back in early March, we entered and paid for a soccer tournament. An expensive soccer tournament. A soccer tournament we have to ask parents to pony up to pay for at the beginning of the year and several of those ASSterisks griped about that, too. As treasurer, I get to hear the ASSterisks gripe a lot and unfortunately I have to ask them for money so they get an excuse to gripe even more. But we entered, we paid, and we expected to play.

Well, Mother Nature felt otherwise and unleashed a weekend of downpours capped with a snow shower on Sunday. Anyone with access to The Weather Channel knew this was coming so it's not like Ma Nature snuck up and shocked us. For you non-soccer folks, it's a wee bit difficult not to mention uncomfortable to play in rain - or snow - plus the fields turn to mush so more often than not, rain - or snow - means games are cancelled.

Which is what happened here. Entire tournament was cancelled. Kaput. Done. No more. A Former Tournament. First time EVER - in 19 years or so the tournament people e-mailed us. OK, fine, we wait for word from the tournament people on what's next - either a reschedule or a refund. Sounds reasonable, doesn't it? I mean if any other sporting event was cancelled due to weather, you'd think they'd reschedule or issue refunds, right? Well, not in the world that is youth soccer, they don't.

We got an e-mail a week later saying the Tournament Committee was deciding what to do. I, stupidly assumed they were rescheduling. Turns out, they were deciding whether to refund. Not WHEN to - WHETHER to. Huh? Then we get word - in a poorly written very haughty e-mail that "The Committee" has decided to refund half our money - and we should just bend over and take that with a smile. (OK, they didn't write that last part - but it was implied - really it was!!).

HALF? Seriously? Half? They decided because it rained and they didn't hold a tournament, they could keep half the money to play in games that didn't even happen? As a new, younger team, we don't have experience with this. So we called to ask why. And we e-mailed to ask for clarification. And we called again. And the crickets chirped. So we broke out our super sekret weapon - a pissed off soccer dad with a law degree. Who in less than the time it took to hold a practice one evening, discovered a little overlooked policy that was broken.

To host a tournament, the host organization agrees to abide by Youth Soccer Rules. And tucked waaaaayyy down in those rules is this little diddy:

TOURNAMENT CANCELLATION: We agree that our tournament or game rules shall state what refunds, if any shall be made to participating teams if all or a portion of the tournament or games is cancelled by the hosting organization for any reason

And yet, they didn't. Nowhere in the forms and applications to enter this tournament was any kind of refund policy stated. None. Nada. Zip. And THAT, friends and neighbors is called a violation of policy. Little ticky things like that can get you speeding tickets, fines, wicked alimony payments, or in the case of Al Capone, jail time. Remember, they got Capone on Tax Evasion not the myriad of crimes he probably committed - but I digress. The fact that 'The Committee' didn't dot all their 'i's and cross all their 't's on this turned out to be our one leg to stand on.

Because apparently, getting ANY money back for a cancelled tournament is a rarity in youth soccer. Which - in my humble novice soccer mom opinion - is stupid. You pay for something - get get something. If something is not delivered - you get money back. Period.

So after 'The Committee' so rudely ignored us (well, me) for two weeks, we (well me) called the state soccer association and the nice gentleman there told me to file a grievance. He'd been receiving numerous calls about this from people griping (wonder if they were ASSterisks?) yet no one would file the form. He couldn't act until the grievance was formally filed. Somebody had to go first.

So we did. And then two other teams did, too. And now, we have a hearing where the team that filed first (that'd be us - well me) has to present our case for fifteen minutes. YIKES! Unfortunately, pissed off soccer dad with the law degree can't make it that day. Neither can the other not quite as pissed off but equally law degreed other three dads on the team. Leaving me - sans law degree but now nicknamed pit bull by one of the coaches for going after our hard earned money - to argue this and get our money back.

Thing is, we'd probably settle for just SOME of it back. We'd have probably accepted the half they gave us had they just communicated or answered the damn e-mail. But they didn't. So here we are. This new little team going up against the most prestigious elite soccer club in the area. No one has ever challenged this policy before. No one has dared to question 'The Committee' before. We're totally like David versus Goliath only without the sling shot - and I'm the unarmed one in the ring! Oh crap!

Like many 'Firsts' before us, we're getting flack. Not just from the ASSterisks, but from the idiot in charge of youth soccer where we play. He says it'll do 'far reaching damage' to our club. He says what 'The Committee' did was far more than any other club has done in the past. He says we should let this 'die on the vine'. He is a worm. That moron won't even re sod or maintain our fields so we can't host a tournament because it'd be an embarrassment. And THIS little loophole thing will be a 'black eye' on our club? Dude, take a look outside your cubicle, any 'black eye' is due to the fact we have crappy fields, no restroom facilities, and limited parking - and you for a director. He's another ASSterisk who knew about this SIXTY DAYS ago and only piped up now. Worm.

I have no idea if we'll actually go through with our First. If we'll have any repercussions because of it. But for now, we're eating that oyster - pass the hot sauce!

The Cost of Stupidity

2009-04-29T15:03:00.005-04:00

also known as your gubment at work!

Some numbnuts in the White House staff was apparently charged with updating photos of Air Force One. Seems the Prez's plane got a makeover or something and they decided to get some new file photos. And then numbnuts had the brilliantly creative idea of shooting the official aircraft of the President of the United States over some beloved symbols of America - like say, oh, the Statue of Liberty. WOW - cue the flags, crying patriots, and heartfelt hugs- all is right in the grand USofA!

And since we're all supposed to be tightening our belts a bit, aforementioned numbnuts decided 'hey, let's save some money, and combine this with a training mission and have F16 combat photographers take the pictures of the plane' Good practice for them and the Feds save a few million bucks by not bidding this crap out.

One TEENSY problem, though.

A low flying, fighter plane guided commercial jet over the skyline of Manhattan sparks more than a few flashbacks of the worst day ever in New York City - September 11, 2001 for any of you living under a rock (or in a cave) for the last eight years. Add to that numbnuts and crew decided to only notify the New York City Police Department and no one else citing in a classified footnote in the notification brief that:

"Information in this document shall not be released to the public or the media."

Yeah. That was a smart move! Let's fly a freaking jet real low over the city that had two of those suckers crash into and bring down two freaking buildings - AND NOT TELL ANYONE! Numbnuts' partner in crime in the NYPD also decided not to tell the freaking mayor of NY - I guess just to ensure proper panic and re-create that 9-11 feeling!

One has been 'reprimanded' - no word on whether numbnuts has had his head placed on a platter yet. Considering this fluster cluck ran the American taxpayers a minimum of $400.000. caused panic in New York City, and could have been accomplished with the deluxe version of Photoshop for around $999, numbnuts needs to be tarred and feathered and paraded around lower Manhattan for people to throw rotten tomatoes at his head.

Stupid stupid stupid!!! Your Federal Government at work, folks! We should be sooooo proud!

VM

Little Girls on a Soccer Field

2009-04-24T09:26:00.004-04:00

I read an interview with a professional baseball player once who said he was the luckiest man in the world because he got paid to play a little boy's game. That guy GOT it and appreciated what his abilities were able to give him. Too many times parents get all wrapped up in their kids' abilities and accomplishments on whatever field they're on and they forget - they're still KIDS!

Last night a group of parents got a couple of great reminders of that as we watched our 8 and 9 year old daughters at soccer practice.

See, there was about a half a gaggle of geese milling about on the field - right where the girls needed to take shots on goal. One of the coaches told them to all join hands and when he counted to three, they all ran toward the geese squealing at the top of their lungs. As they watched the startled geese fly toward their parents, the giggles could probably be heard three states away. Only eight and nine year old girls can find such humor and joy in just scaring away some wayward geese!

Later in the practice, one of those famous pop up storms decided to pop up. The skies had gotten darker but didn't look ominous just yet so the coaches continued on. We then got a huge clap of thunder and every girl on that field screamed as only little girls can. It was a symphony of high pitched screams at one clap of thunder and the coaches completely lost it laughing. They yelled 'PRACTICE IS OVER' and were met with yet another scream - this time of relief, joy, or exhaustion depending on which girl it came from.

The girls scampered over, grabbed their stuff and hurried their laughing parents to our cars sure that the next clap of thunder would be accompanied with that one in a million bolt of lightening with their names on it.

I'm sure the Women's World Cup teams don't have practices like this - then again, they're not eight and nine years old. We really have to remember that more often!

VM

Things That Make Me Go Hmmmmmmm

2009-04-22T12:09:00.006-04:00

A lot has been happening/happened lately and I find myself more and more baffled by too much of it.

For starters, medicine and medical practice is amazing. Mr. Vinegar's shoulder is healing beautifully and he's pain/Percocet free now. His surgeon was super dooper proud of this work, apparently because he shared photos of before and after shots of the innards of Mr. Vinegar's tendon. Hmmmm. I think I can live without seeing the innards of a torn and newly repaired tendon, thankyouverymuch.

Next, leave it to me to lose - well not really 'lose' per se, but seriously misplace - my wedding band in the most obscure place ever. I took it off (source of contention between Mr. Vinegar and moi but that's another rant) while pumping gas this weekend. I was putting both the diamond and wedding band into the handy dandy cup 'o change in the car when - WHOOPS - band slipped and plunked right between the rubber thingamajig next to the emergency break and fell down into (that's IN-to - not NEXT to or ON to) the middle console. I looked for it and figured it'd take more than just my resources at hand to fish it out so I drove on secure knowing it was at least IN the car and that eventually I'd be able to score a wire coat hanger and flashlight to fish it out.

You'd have thought. Only problem was that I had a while to drive before I could get my hands on a wire hanger and apparently platinum wedding bands - once they've escaped the finger of the woman who dropped them - like to bounce around a lot. Since this one had free reign of the innards of an automobile, that puppy decided mobility was his newest friend.

To cut this very long emotional story short, retrieving the ring was way beyond flashlights and wire hangers. It required major surgery of the auto. And the Vinegar Martini household lacked the equipment to pull that one off. Luckily a friend of mine and her husband are 'tool' people so I went over there. Her husband ended up taking out both the drivers and passenger's seats, cutting the carpet and ta-da - ring was waaaaayyyy over under the carpet on the passenger side. Seriously, no wire hangers indeed - that wouldn't have done squat!! So my hmmm moment was more of a 'what the hell' moment - but at least it ended well.

Continuing on. Why is it that Girl Scout Leaders expect their troops to behave in a manner becoming the Scouts but the leaders act like hyperactive rude five year olds at our meetings? Seriously, very loud side conversations while the speaker was talking, gum popping, and cell phone use abounded at our meeting this week. It irks the crap out of me that these women behave this way. Granted the meetings are planned about as well as if it was a hyperactive rude five year old doing it, but come on, SHUT UP!!! The whole experience was so hypocritical since these women get all high and mighty when they talk about how disciplined their troops are and yet they are rude and chatty all through our own meetings. Hmmmm - maybe there's truth in 'those who can - do - those who cannot - teach'. Who knows?

Final Hmmm lately - time management. Or rather the crappy job other people do at trying to manage MY time. I've had no less than four ridiculous requests this week from people who need a crap load of my time and abilities RIGHT NOW or by a completely impossible date or time. I swear I'm going to tattoo 'You need WHAT? WHEN? ' to my forehead one day! Luckily I also live by this little diddy:Unfortunately, it's just a sign and like most signs, people ignore them. Hmmm. Why bother, then, you know?

Hmmm.

VM

Caffeine and Kryptonite

2009-04-15T08:58:00.009-04:00

This is total post surgical self medication and I'm not even the one who had the surgery. Relax - I'm not scarfing up the pain meds for Mr. Vinegar Martini - I'm on my gazillionth cup of coffee and pretty much feeling like this:

Or maybe this:

Definitely this:

I'm not a good caffeine person at all but danged if I don't need it by IV at the moment. I've got a butt load of things to catch up on today plus L'il Vinegar has a make-up soccer game at 7:30 tonight! Why am I inducing myself into a crazed squirrel on coffee stupor?

Because Mr. Vinegar had his shoulder surgery yesterday. Everything went well and we made it home - pain block and all - by 5pm. He was in great spirits (see aforementioned pain block) and hungry (again, pain block) and in a great mood (pain block) considering he'd had semi-major surgery less than 5 hours earlier. Until around 1 am when all hell broke loose.

Pain block wore off. Hoo boy did it wear off. Mr. Vinegar's face was grey - not pale - ashen grey. He's got a pretty high tolerance for these things but even Superman has his weakness and apparently a metal screw into his bone is Mr. Vinegar's Kryptonite. See, the one tear to the ligament in his shoulder turned out to be two plus one to his bicep. The surgeon turned into a freaking seamstress putting Humpty Dumpty back together again and had to anchor all that sewing to something stable. Hence the metal screw into his bone Kryptonite thing.

The surgeon warned me Mr. Vinegar would be in a world of hurt eventually. Even the OR Nurse joked before taking him in that Mr. Vinegar needed to promise me a gift or night out for the hell he was about to put me through. Little did we know the truth in those words.

They sent us home with a full prescription of some killer pain meds and this really cool ice down machine thingy to keep the swelling down. The machine is amazing - it's like a little Igloo cooler you fill with ice, then water, then connect this tube to another tube attached to a pack on Mr. Vinegar's shoulder. It's like a semi-permanent ice pack without the melting. Well, kinda. The 'semi' part means ice melts only it melts in the cooler thingy. But, the cooler thingy lets you know when there's nothing but water in there. Problem is, the ice only stays solid in there for a max of two hours - then the alarm goes off. Loudly - well loud is a relative term when you hear 'loud' at 2 am - then 4 am - then 6 am and so on and so on.

Pain meds are wonderful things - they make you sleep - soundly. So thankfully, Mr. Vinegar slept through the 2 - 4 - and 6am alarms. Me - eh, not so much. And since we don't have a freezer handy in our room, guess who was unplugging the machine in the dark, hauling it downstairs to dump the water, refilling with ice and water, then trekking it back upstairs to ice down the sleeping patient? Yup - and believe me, I'm cursing the fact we don't live in a nice flat ranch house right now - I'm getting a workout on these stairs! And I'm living on a collective four hours sleep about right now, too. I was better rested with a newborn in the house - but at least, this brief period of sleep deprivation is temporary. And a hell of a lot better than what Mr. Vinegar is experiencing right now.

Oh - and we have one other teensy problem today. One of the post surgical instructions was that Mr. Vinegar cannot drive, operate heavy machinery, lift more than 5 pounds with that arm. drink alcohol, or sign important documents within 48 hours of having general anesthesia. Problem? Guess who forgot to have him sign our tax forms before surgery? I swear, we're going to get audited because it's going to look like a five year old forged his signature. Then again, after this much caffeine, my signature won't look too red hot either.

Oh well - pass the Percocet - I mean coffee. It's going to be a long rest of the week!

VM

Going Postal!

2009-04-13T17:54:00.005-04:00

No, I'm not literally going to 'go postal' or anything - but I totally witnessed the fluster cluck that is our US Postal Service today.

See, I needed to get something from point A to point B quickly - as in it needed to be there TODAY! So, on Friday, I used that handy dandy do-it-yourself postage do-hickey thing in the lobby of my local Post Office rather than deal with the gazillion person line and face interactions with the local Newman's. You'd think that'd have been a good idea - but NOOOOOOO!!!!

After following all the instructions the handy dandy do-it-yourself postage do-hickey thing in the lobby told me to do, I got my postage, stuck that thing that really REALLY needed to be at point B in the only envelopes available and thought that was that. Hardly. The next day - which would be Saturday - I go to get my mail and lo and behold, the very envelope with the handy dandy do-it-yourself postage stuck to it was in my freaking mailbox! With a postage due note on it for - get this - one dollar! I was pissed. Now, not only was the thing that really REALLY needed to be at point B today not going to be there - but the handy dandy do-it-yourself postage do-hickey thing was defective! WHAT THE HECK????

And of course all this went down long after closing time at the local post office so I had to wait until today to handle everything. Which only turned out to be even more of an ordeal!

I parked in the only available space at my local post office - which unfortunately had a "US POST OFFICE PARKING - 20 MINUTES ONLY" sign. Stupidly figuring I'd be in and out in 20 minutes - and since it was the only freaking parking spot there, I pulled in and parked. Mistake #1.

When I went in, the line was ridiculously long. I'm talking wrapped around the little room and out the door long. Backed up to the handy dandy do-it-yourself postage do-hickey thing in the lobby and people were getting annoyed as the two lines crossed paths. Add this to the fact most people who have to go inside the local post office are already annoyed, it could have been much uglier than it was.

So we waited. And waited. And waited some more. By the time I finally got inside the actual post office part, I could see there were six work stations but only two people actually working them. Slowly. Very very slowly and methodically - obviously the way they are taught in 'How to be a Postal Worker' school. So we waited some more. And more. And by the time I finally got up toward the front of the line, one of the two workers decided to take a break - or he had to pee - or he just wanted to go around back to see how pissed off a room full of people get when you cut the workforce they're waiting to see in HALF! I can report there were many heavy sighs and snide remarks about bringing back the Pony Express.

Meanwhile, FINALLY - I got up to the local Newman. I plunked down the envelope with the handy dandy do-it-yourself postage still stuck to it. And I demanded a refund. I pointed out where I carefully filled out the paperwork with a pen using enough pressure to make the required four copies; and that I did the postage myself and that I marked 'DELIVER MONDAY APRIL 13' on there - and then I pointed out where the stupid carrier Newman type wrote "$1 postage due!" And I asked why?

Local Newman said I used the wrong envelope. The envelope I used was the $18.50 envelope and I should have used the $17.50 envelope so they couldn't deliver it. I told him at the handy dandy do-it-yourself postage do-hickey thing in the lobby, there were only two kinds of envelopes and this was the only one for Express Mail. He said I should have used the $17.50 envelope. I said - AGAIN - the $17.50 envelopes weren't out there and damned if he didn't repeat again that I should have used that one!

OK - disclaimer - I hate the word 'should' with a passion. When you tell someone they 'should have' done something - that's the stupidest statement in the world. You can't go back in time - you can't undo what you did to do what you should have done so to argue that someone 'should have' done anything is moot, stupid, and cause for justifiably hurting someone!!! Local Newman was dancing on my last nerve here and I just wanted to smack his face for the 'should have' crap he was pulling.

But I didn't. I just (NICELY) demanded my money back - again. To which he produced a form - yes, in triplicate - and told me to fill out the top part. Only thing - I needed to step away and fill it out but I could come back just to him rather than waiting in the line again. Oh - so I had that going for me - great!

So fine - I filled out the form, ,made it back over to Newman, and he took the form. Then he said something that honestly, had I acted on my initial urges, no jury in the world would have convicted me. Local Newman said I'd be receiving a check in approximately 6-8 weeks for my refund. EXCUSE ME? Seriously - excuse the eff out of me? I KNOW good and damn well you have $17.50 in that little drawer and you're going to mail me an effing check? And of course I asked that - only nicer - and without grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and shaking him within an inch of his miserable postal working life!!!

Yes, he was serious - he wasn't authorized to give me back my cash so now I have to wait 6-8 weeks for a check - which will be mailed to me. HA! Considering my local carrier Newman type is a moron and constantly delivers us the wrong mail, I won't be holding my breath here. Oh dear Lord - our gubment at work - aren't we proud???

This entire ordeal took 48 minutes from entry into the building to final interaction with the Local Newman. Now, remember that one and only parking place - the one marked "US POST OFFICE PARKING - 20 MINUTES ONLY"? Yeah, that one. Well, guess I found out why they only had two workers in there for the gazillion customers - because at least one worker was patrolling the parking lot and timing how long a car sat in the 20 MINUTES ONLY spots. Yes, friends and bloggers, I got a freaking ticket at the Post Office. It didn't state what the fine was - just that I was a VIOLATOR! Really - I got called a VIOLATOR - in all caps on this yellow piece of paper from the post office. I guess I need to call the number on that thing eventually but I can tell you this much - they can pry the fine out of my hands in approximately 6-8 weeks!

Y'all just remember, if we ever get universal health care in this country, it'll be run by the same entity that runs the US Postal Service. Just think about that!!!

VM

Why I Suck As A Mother

2009-04-09T10:15:00.003-04:00

I'm a great everyday kind of mom. I love getting involved with L'il Vinegar's class, Brownies, Soccer, etc. We have great fun together doing everything and nothing. I'm pretty darn secure in my role as everyday mom. Where I suck is special occasions and holidays. And apparently they count double - go figure!

It seems that eight year olds really REALLY want an basket full of candy on Easter Sunday. And Valentines Day, and Halloween, and all those other minor/commercial holiday type events. Christmas I can do -and do well. These others, eh, not so much. And - as luck or fate would have it - this Sunday is Easter. Oh crap!

I have no idea on earth where the Easter basket is so I'll have to go buy another one. I did pick up some little chocolate Easter bunnies a week ago when I saw them on sale but Mr. Vinegar Martini and I have eaten them all - and you'd think that means he sucks, too, but noooooo! Where I do try to instill some of that everyday mom stuff into these events and try to curtail Mr. Vinegar from filling the basket with nothing but candy, he'll still just buy bags of the crap at Target and throw them in there. Only he does it with STYLE!

See, you need that fake plastic grass stuff - which we don't have and I can't stand. But Mr. Vinegar usually gets that and will fill not only the basket but make a cute little trail from L'il Vinegar's room all the way down the stairs and trailing to the overflowing Easter basket that he invariably filled himself - because I suck!

I'm not one of those special event all out holiday moms. I don't have decorations for anything other than Christmas. I have to cringe when people ask if I've decorated for Halloween or Thanksgiving or whatever holiday is coming up prior to December. I don't have those cutesy flags to put out with the change of seasons or holidays. I don't have special dishes for spring and fall or St. Patrick's Day or Groundhog Day or whatever 'Day' Hallmark has deemed holiday worthy. I remember birthdays and anniversaries and Christmas. I think that's enough. Luckily for L'il Vinegar, she has a holiday freak Daddy who gets into whatever special candy Hershey bags up for the occasion. Because I suck.

Thankfully L'il Vinegar loves me as the everyday mom - so I'll stick with that!

Now, I'm off to get some good chocolate - hopefully it'll make it to Sunday! But I doubt it!