Watching RAW and Remembering War

So last night, Mr. Vasey and I were settled in and watching Monday Night Raw. Just to give you a quick rundown of what was happening...John Cena was fired becuase he didn't help the leader of the Nexus win the title, but before he left he vowed to take down every member of the Nexus, and last night on Raw he started his revenge.

Towards the end of the show, there was a part that showed two memebers of the Nexus sort of creeping around backstage, in what looked like the broiler room, trying to hide from John Cena, speaking in hushed tones trying to figure out their next move...for some strange reason this brought back my own memories of a war that played out in my town, a war that went on every summer in the mornings before the pool opened...and what were the sides fighting for you might ask? Nothing but bragging rights...

Little Miss Amy Langley and I grew up together. Our families were almost mirror images of each other. Her older sister and my older sister were the same age, her older brother and my older brother...the same age, her and I... the same age, the only flaw in the mirror was in my little sister and her little brother, bout the same age, but you know after a certain age, boys and girls just don't get along...but nevertheless our families did everything together, spent New Years together, our parents would get together and play cards while us kids all played it was perfect...

Amy and I we didn't live all that far from eachother so I would generally walk over to her house and we'd play with matchbox cars in her mothers flower beds, play Wheel of Fortune on their computer, devise ways to break into her neighbors playhouse, or we'd get together with other kids and play a game we called war.

From what I remember about war, it was like a massive game of hide and seek, only you were on teams and you hunted other teams. The playing field was pretty big, basically the neighborhood, hiding in people's backyards, it was a free range...so you'd go out in the neighborhood, and try to find other kids all the while not getting found yourself. I just remember creeping around a lot in other peoples backyards trying to find a good hiding space, crawling under patios, climbing trees, jumping fences all in the name of war. Speaking in hushed tones trying to devise our game plan, and making it back to the house without getting caught...what happened if you got caught? Well I guess we either got taken hostage, or possibly become the bad guys and have to be chased the next game. I really don't remember...

Doesn't really matter I guess, just one of those games kids make up to pass the time before they are able to spend the afternoon at the pool to cool off on a hot summer day.

Passive Aggressive

I just realized today where I mastered my passive aggressiveness from....

Working in call centers.

I have worked in call centers off and on for 5 years. Its not something I'm proud of, in fact I hate working in call centers, but when you have too much credit card debt and too many car payments and a mortgage payment that kept going up because your escrow keeps being short because of taxes; you gots to do what you gots to do.

And as luck would have it, or well maybe not luck, but just life maybe...I don't know, but anyway I'm actually quite good at customer service. I have a great phone voice, I communicate effectively, I speak proper English and I can even stumble my way through a Spanish call enough to get a phone number and politely say good-bye so that someone somewhere can help the person.

But alas, I realized that, through no fault of my own, working in call centers actually helped me perfect the art of passive aggressive behavior. And additionally it has also helped me to become one of the most sarcastic people I know with some of the driest humor. Which I have also found is not a favorite personality trait of mine...

Below you will find an excerpt from a Gmail chat from earlier today with a friend and former co-worker at said call center:

Couple of things. 1. Nic's thing refers to a birthday party. 2. ;alsjdfl;jwoeifjasldkfjeo or anything that looks similar is our version of LOL, we think it is more fun and the longer the a;alksjfowiefjasdlkf is the funnier we thought it was....so al;skdjf s is just a chuckle but a;slkdfjwoiefjaslkdfweofjasldfj eo would be like ROTFL. 3. Oh snack is the same as oh snap!

Steph: what time is Nic's thing?

me: IDK...lemme look
Sept. 11th 7:30pm at Kim's House
Sent at 1:20 PM on Friday

me: are you gonna go there by yoself or did yo want to go with us?
we probably won't stay long btw...cuz we'll be takin fletch

Steph: i can't stay late i have to be at XPS in the morning, and i'm so tired
all the managers are standing around staring at Melissa; i think they're going to sing happy bday to her, but no one will start
they look stupid

me: they are stupid
yer mom's stupid
Sent at 1:29 PM on Friday

Steph: pish
they finally started singing, and i was on a call and the lady was piiiisssseed

me: cuz she could hear them?

Steph: yep
sounds like your business is having fun today while I'm getting collection calls from you people for a unit i no longer rent
'a;sldkfj;asdklj;asdf

me: well maybe you wouldn't get collection calls for a unit that got auctioned off if you woulda paid your bill

Steph: on snack

me: i probably woulda said that to her too but i woulda said it in a round about nicer way...so that i couldn't get in trouble, but so that she felt like a dumbass
i loved doing that to people...then she woulda hung up on me...and i woulda under my breath called her a fucking bitch after she hung or after i pushed mute Sent at 1:36 PM on Friday

Steph: ahh lynnette, i love how you think

And that is honestly what I would've done. What is wrong with singing happy birthday to someone? Is that really considered having a party? Seriously lady, do what I do when collectors call...don't answer.

Pretty people piss me off

Well not just pretty people but pretty people who think their poo don't stank.

The girls who walk with their chest out, butt swangin and won't even smile when you pass them in the hall or they almost run into you because their nose is so far up in the air they didn't see you as they were leaving the bathroom...

Well today I'd like to thank the City of Plano Utilities Man for attempting to put one such Pretty Beyotch in her place.

I've lived in the DFW area now for going on eight years and I have been honked at, flipped off, enticed to rear-end someone and tailgated for some of my less than desirable driving techniques. I have also seen the same happen to others, but today was the first time I saw someone get out of their car to berate someone for their driving. Luckily it wasn't for my driving.

I try to refrain from acting out on any of my own road rage ie. excessive honking, flipping people off or yelling...mostly because in Texas there is a concealed weapons law and frankly you just never know who may be packin' and who will flip out and decide to pop a cap in my arse.

I was heading to work this morning on the frontage road of the Dallas North Tollway, at this particular intersection there are 5 lanes. The u-turn lane, one for only turning left on the inside lanes, one for turning left in the outside lane and going straight. The next lane is a straight only lane and then there is the straight or right turn lane.

The Beyotch (who I might add had her blinker on to turn left in a straight only lane), me and the Plano Utilities Man were in the left turn/straight lane and a bunch of other cars were all stopped at the stop light...light turns green and we all go. The Utilities Man and I are required to make a wide left turn, Beyotch is required to go straight...but her in her cutesy little Mazda decide to go left illegally and then proceed to honk and throw a hissy fit to Mr. Utilities Man who is making his wide left turn and almost hits little Miss Prissy Pants who doesn't know how to drive. She keeps trying to nose butt her little Mazda to weasel around him, finally he cuts her off and the nose butt battle stops with no damage or collision.

This is where it gets interesting...Mr. Utilities Man gets out of his truck (pretty ballsy if you ask me given as I stated before you never know who has had a bad morning and is packin heat), and walks toward Little Miss Beyotch and starts yelling at the little Miss Lindsey Lohan. I try to nonchalantly roll down my window to hear what is going on...

While he's telling her he's supposed to be in that lane and she was supposed to go straight, she's flingin it right back at him explaining she was in the wide turn lane and he was supposed to turn into the middle lane...

I wanted to yell out "Lady you weren't even in the turn lane, you're lucky you don't have Mack blazoned on your pretty lil ass for turning left in straight only lane." But I didn't for my fear of the pretty people...

She was still talking smack to her steering wheel as the utilities guy shook his head and walked back to his truck, her arms flailing away throwing a little tissy...

Kinda made my morning...kinda wanted to see some blood

Ya...it's been a while.

I know, I know...I've been busy. I guess that's the best excuse I can come up with. The other might have to do with the fact that I had some really big news and frankly I was afraid I'd blab it on here and then the whole world would know before I even told like my family and friends.

But well now the cat is out of the bag and I feel comfortable enough to get back on here and do my weekly or maybe not so weekly purge of my ramblings.

So what's the big news you might ask? Or maybe not cuz you don't really care...well I'll tell ya anyway, the big news is....I'm pregnant. Yup, me. I'm going to be somebody's mom. So I thought maybe I'd share a few of the joys of being pregnant. Now I'm not going to hold back much, so you may not want to read this if you don't want to know too much about me.

1. Telling people you are pregnant. I absolutely hate telling people I am pregnant. Why? Because it's kinda like telling people you are having sex. I am married, have been for almost three years, but I don't like telling co-workers and casual acquantences that my husband and I concieved after a dissapointing Nebraska loss where I consumed like a bottle of wine and had about 4 shots of 100 proof peppermint schnapps. (Of course I go in to detail about the specifics of the day I most likely concieved, you asked me if we planning a child? No we weren't really "planning" to have drunk sex that specific Saturday afternoon, it just sorta happened that way...am I dissapointed? No, the sex was great, drunk sex usually is, well unless you are too drunk...then its just frustrating) Did I make you feel uncomfortable? Good now we are on the same page.

Another thing I hate about telling people I'm pregnant is that a lot of people automatically look to your stomach when you tell them this. Like I'm already self-conscience enough about my body image, I don't like people looking at me and trying gauge how far along I might be by how fat I am. Just ask already...to my face...you've already asked me if it was planned, why not keep asking intruisive questions...

Furthermore, I know most people don't know this is annoying, but for a hormonal pregnant person it is. Don't ask this question "So are you excited?" Like seriously, what kind of a question is that to ask? And what kind of an answer do you expect to get? I sometimes like to mess with people and say, "No" with no explanation just to see thier reaction. I don't know why but this is a very uncomfortable question to answer and it seems most people ask it. Of course I'm excited, just because I'm not bouncing up and down the walls and shouting from every rooftop that Mr. Vasey blasted some sperm inside me and fertilized one of my eggs in which I am now intrusted with carrying around inside of me for like 9 months, doesn't mean I'm not excited. Nervous is more like it. I mean ya it'll be great to have a kid, one whom will probably be the most strangest lil thing to walk the earth, considering the gene pool it is coming from, but am I excited to squirt a watermelon out of me? Um...no, not so much.

2. Morning sickness. Morning sickness my ass, try all day sickness. The asstard that gave it the name morning sickness can pretty much shove his ever loving head even further up his arse if you ask me. For eight straight weeks, I felt like a warmed over ass turd damn near all day long, couple that with working 60 hours a week, being tired all the time and having to make it through a grueling holiday season. Morning sickness, ya you can pretty much kiss my ass.

3. Backed up and roids. No one ever told me about this. No one ever mentioned that I wouldn't be able to "go" for 3 days. No one told me that when I did go that it would look like a rabbit snuck up my ass and left the droppings in the toilet, even though it literally felt like I laid a rabbit and not its little turds. No one ever told me that becuase of this I would get hemmroids which would cause pooping out these little turds even more painful. And that's just the begining, it goes from little rabbit turds to ... well lets just say I never thought I would say this to my husband "Well that's the first time in about 2 weeks I didn't clog up the toilet."

"Gross," he says. "Why don't you do a courtesy flush?"

"Well you can't when its one piece." (ya I know)

I'm sorry there are no pictures with this post I thought it might be too graphic with the subject matter.

I'm sure someday Squirt (that's what we are naming him/her for now) will be proud of me...for enduring so much to bring him/her to life. And Mr. Vasey as well, as he has had to put up with me for the last 19 weeks and were are only almost half way there...

Me and Mr. Vasey on the alleged day of conception (or there abouts)