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Chiggity-Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself (ABC Style)

There is a slew of thoughts and emotions that have been un-elegantly swirling around my sleep-deprived brain for a few weeks. Will you hold my hair while I mentally barf them here on my blog? Gee, thanks!

I just want to get it all out and feel better already.

A is for ass.
I can be a really big one. I’ve also been wondering what happened to mine. If I die and get beheaded, I think my husband will be able to identify me by my stretch marks.

B is for bad-ass.
I still love that word like it was 1999. Also, B is for Blogging. I miss it, even though I am still blogging weekly for work, writing about the awesomeness of software is a bit different.

C is for Chicago.
I get to go on a whirlwind work-trip in a couple weeks to the Windy City, and I’m pretty stoked. New dresses have been ordered. Power-heels have been borrowed. Oh, wait. I actually have to learn stuff and then come back and do a presentation?

I’m going to need another dress.

D is for dreams.
I had a dream that I was really upset, and then I saw Joe and had a big long chat with him. In my dream, I felt better after talking to him, but then I remembered that he was gone and if I was talking to him, did that mean I had died too?

Cue the alarm clock and the wide-eyed jolt of reality. Also, me thinking: What the hell does that mean?

E is for eggs.
The only meal my family seems to get excited about and yet, I am never the one who gets to make it. It sucks to always be the ‘mean cook’ who has to deal with vegetables and expressions like, “I DON’T WANT CHICKEN! THIS TASTES GROSS!”

F is for that naughty word I am not supposed to say.
I got really ticked off last night and used it a ton. I’m not very good at wielding it appropriately and still manage to mangle the phrases it appears in. I need to do a detox or something to purge myself of it’s badness or at least get better at using it correctly.

G is for girlfriends.
It’s amazing how much sway they have over my emotions. One day they can have me steamed up and ready to cancel any and all contact with their stupid-hurtful faces. The next day, they can have me catching my breath in sheer wonder at their kindness. I’m trying to keep my experiences in the latter category.

H is for hot.
Damnitt. This 100 degree weather at the beginning of October has just got to be stopped.

Enough already, clingy-summer-season! We’ve had some good times, but I think I’m just growing as a person and I’m needing something new. Something different. Something cool.

Sure, your hotness was fun at first. I even let you talk me into wearing a swimsuit in public for a total of one time! You, cheeky minx, you.

But I’ve matured, and now I’m ready for some contemplative temperatures and an absence of sunburn lines. (You and I both know that calling them tan-lines would be an exaggeration and I’m too mature now to stoop to such lies for dramatic effect.)

Summer, I really think it’s time that we take a break. More accurately, I think you need to take a break. Seriously. There is such a thing as too much hotness. Trust me. I’ve seen Magic Mike. Yep, you’re starting to wander in to Magic Mike territory now, summer. Too much heat to be taken seriously.

I is for ice.
I am really getting annoyed by our lack of home ice maker. Our ice cube tray makes enough ice bits for 1.5 cool and tasty beverages. Buying ice from the store requires the memory to remember it while you’re in line and then a lecture later because you didn’t get it home fast enough so it melted, then refroze, turning it into a giant, solid, ice mass that does no one’s drinks any freaking good. Good one, Jenny.

J is for jungle.
My backyard is embarrassing. My front courtyard is covered in weird tree-berries and giant brown leaves. On my stompy ‘I’m-really-pissed-off’ walk last night alone around the block, I came to the conclusion that we have the second worst yard in the neighborhood. Only our neighbors across the street scored lower than we did. I hate that, yet feel helpless to remedy it, making me hate it even more.

K is for krill.
I learned that blue whales eat 40 million of those suckers a day. Jeez, blue whale. That’s a lot.

L is for landmines.
My daughter’s room has gotten so messy, it’s become a fire hazard. It’s way over the mess-limit for a five year old to manage by herself. This means mom needs to do it.

I don’t want to clean another damn mess that I didn’t make, yet, if I don’t I will continue to step on sharp, pointy landmine toys in the middle of the night and risk screaming out that F-word mentioned above and waking my precious little pink princess. I wish there was a reward system for me when I do my chores.

M is for marmalade.
Just a fun word to say. I’ve never really had marmalade before, but I imagine it’s nice.

N is for no groceries.
Being gone for event work last weekend means we’ve all had a super fun week of ‘Stems and Seeds’ meals. Yep. Lots of fun that was.

O is for oral hygiene.
What? I think about it. My husband and I need to go to the dentist. It’s obscene when you think about how long it’s been since we’ve gone and sat in hotty-dentist’s luxurious chair.

I also am sick of being a dead-ringer for the ‘BEFORE’ girl in the tooth whitening commercials.

P is for perfect cuticles.
I don’t have them. I want them. Dear Lord, please make the hangnails stop already! P could also be for priorities, I guess…

Q is for quirky.
I like that word, and have been described by it a few times. If anyone out there who gets described as gorgeous would like to trade descriptors, let me know.

R is for “REALLY?”
I have been saying that way too much lately. It’s like that old Seth and Amy sketch on SNL Weekend Update came to life and attached itself to my brain, making me utter the snarky response to my family way too much.

S is for sleep.
I could use a nice long escapade where Sleep and I hold hands and frolic over puffy clouds and twinkling stars. Then Sleep would tuck me into a giant bed (with my own pillow from home, of course) and I would be neither ice-cold or dripping-sweaty hot.

In this special land, there would be no alarm clocks, no work days to get up for, no events to go do and no flying elbows to the nose from my spouse. It would be magical. And I would get to reclaim my preschool title of “Good Sleeper” with gusto.

T is for ta-tas.
Honestly, I find those “Save the Ta-tas” and “I love my ta-tas” bumper stickers just plain crass. If that makes me an old prude, then so be it. Have a little decency people.

Oh, and have I mentioned that both my small children can read and sound out new words at stop lights? Yeah. Thanks a lot, Cancer-Crusader. The only ‘awareness’ you’re currently spreading is that you are very unladylike and now I have some ‘splaining to do to my 5 and 7 year old.

U is for urine.
No matter what, I can not get the kids’ bathroom to smell like anything other than nasty pee pee. It’s gross and I can’t wait until they are old enough to clean their own dang bathroom. Sure, they get bossed around by their fed-up mama to ‘wipe things down with those anti-bacterial wipes’ but we all know it’s not the same as a true deep-clean. Yuck.

V is for that part only girls have.
My husband is not a fan of the term I coined for our 5 year’s princess parts. He thinks calling it a ‘Hoo-ha’ is tawdry and cheap. In the effort to finally start trying to change our phrasing, last night I referred to it as a vagina.
Then I almost threw up.
I hate that word. My daughter did a double take, but she seemed to know what I was talking about. I need to come up with something else.

W is for weather.

I know. I already mentioned that it was hot here, but guess, what? I have the microphone, and you don’t. SO YOU WILL LISTEN TO EVERY DAMN WORD I HAVE TO SAY! Oh, cool! W could also be for “Wedding Singer”! I love that movie. (See movie quote 3 sentences back.)I am experiencing a dramatic-weather shortage in my life and it’s messing with my head. For the love of Sunday, could there just be some lightning or hail already?

W is also for whiskey.
I enjoy it yet, I feel when I mention that fact in conversations, I appear to be a lush. (I had to Google that word because I wasn’t sure I had been using it correctly.) Yep. I am not a lush and fear that I am appearing as if I were one.

X is for weird words that no one uses very much.

Y and Z told me they were sick of always being at the end and went home early.

About Jenny Z

I love to overuse italics, misplaced hyphens and internal dialogue when I write about my usual favorite topic, myself.

4 responses »

  1. One of your best Jenny!

  2. Stumbled upon this through a friend…Loved this post — you had me at A, because really — if I ever get beheaded, my husband would be able to identify me the same way 😉


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