Archive for the ‘You’re fucked!’ Category

It’s that time of the year again…

July 23, 2008

Being t-minus one month (or so) until my birthday, I figured I would let you be privy to a conversation held the other day while driving in the mystery mobile:


Josh: What is what?

Me: “that! THAT THING! THAT THING ON MY HEAD!” I scream pointing to my hair

Josh: (staring at me like I am suddenly possessed. Or on crack. Or both.) “I see nothing”

I quickly pointed to my bangs. There it was, like the devil’s spawn glinting and nestled in my hair, a single strand of grey hair.


Josh: “That’s not gray.”

Me: “yes it is!”

Josh: “it’s glistening in the light”

Me: “no, it’s gray and I will prove it.”

With a mighty pluck I pull the hair out of my head and lay it on my black pants. It shines. It glistens. It’s freakin’ gray hair.

Josh: “It’s not gray”

This is going nowhere so I decide to take the hair and save it in the change drawer of the car. Josh stares at me and then rolls his eyes.

Me: “what?”

Josh: “Are you going to save all your gray hairs now?”


Josh: “you are so strange and quirky sometimes.”

And so we head into the countdown to number 36.


So where the hell have I been?

March 16, 2008

It’s kind of interesting when you world may or may not come to an end.  Last week I went and saw that documentry with Smiling Mom.  It was great.  it was loooooooooooong.  I noted that about 4 hours into it my head hurt every time that I looked down.  and I don’t mean when I moved my entire head, I mean just my eyes… if I looked down there was a sharp pain in my sinus cavity area.

ok, I think, I have a cold coming on.  no problem.

two days later, there is a problem.  this isn’t a cold.  I can’t move.  I can’t walk, talk, sit up, surf, drive.  My head feels like it’s going to explode.  I go to the doc.  not a sinus infection. just a viral thing.  ok cool.

yesterday, I can’t get out of bed.  I can’t move without falling over.  the room is spinning (as if drunk but I don’t drink often).  I can’t even crawl.  obviously, there is something wrong.  I went in for a brain scan.

and now I just wait.

and wait

and wait

and wait.

there is something wrong.  but no one knows what.

since it literally took me 45 minutes to type this because I am so dizzy, you see why things are backed up in my world.

and I still chase after my little bunny.


My secrets for the week…

February 26, 2008

I thought I was the only one with the crazy stair thing going on…


it’s offical

February 11, 2008

I am going to have to have my cast on my left hand extended to my elbow. ugh. the main problem here is that when I use a scalpel I use my left hand. this has made life at work very interesting the past few weeks.

I am going to have to go on disabilty now. This actually is pretty good timeing if I must say so because two of my sisters are flying in (Iris, who has been living in “fucking texas!” for the past three years and my older sister, Katie, is coming in from japan.) I guess I will be able to spend time with them.

In the mean time, I am almost off the graveyard rotation. How nice is that? Finally, Rick and I can sleep at the same time.

by the way, coming soon, to a las vegas near you… Rachel and Ricky. Yes, thats right, the Fog City Mom and Boy are on their way as of Wednesday to the bright lights of Las Vegas for a convention. woo hoo!!! I am going to gamble!!!!

when we get back, Sean is taking Ricky to Ireland for a week to visit his granny. She lives in Belfast. Let’s face it, Rick is one travelling little boy!

Laundry wars

February 3, 2008

I know that it has been raining non-stop for a few weeks in SF.  I know it’s super bowl Sunday.  I know people are excited for the super bowl and the fact that the sun seems to be peaking out every 10 minutes or so to remind us that it’s still around and not sucked into the vast darkness of the universe. I know all this.  But this still gives no one the right to be a total bitch at the laundry mat.

Case in point, today it’s crowded at the mat.  I struggled with my buggy and heaping mounds of laundry that need to be done while Ricky spends time with his dad.  If you think laundry is hard, try doing it with a precocious toddler on your hands!  I look over through all the washers and find two across from each other.  They are rather small but I can split the laundry between the two of them. I load the first one and put my liquid soap in.  I turn, walk a few steps to the second and load the rest of the laundry into it and add my soap.

While I am looking down and fumbling with my quarters, this lady walks in.  Lady is too nice of a term, however the word bitch is thrown around too often.  Let’s just say she was really, REALLY rude.  She makes an entrance and mumbles about not having enough room for her stuff.

I don’t really pay attention to her until I turn around and note that she has taken all of my DRY clothing with LIQUID SOAP on them out of my first washer and started loading hers.  I walk over and say to her, “Excuse me, I just put my clothing in there.” She rolls her eyes, huffs and pulls her clothes out.  She walks over to my other washer and loudly states, “So what, are you using this one too?”

Um. Yes. I am.  I have a lot of laundry.

She sighs and sits there with her hands on her hips and huffs a bit.  I note that the other washer, right next to mine, was empty.

“Excuse me, that one there is free,” I said sweetly, thinking maybe that when I came over to begin with I was a little rude.

“I THOUGHT you said you were USING this one too,” says rude lady.

“No, I am using the one next to it.  I mistook where you pointed.”

Rude Lady begins loading her laundry.  She has made such a scene that everyone is looking at her and thinking, “what a fucking bitch!”  Another woman was spacing out and watching her.  Rude Lady gets annoyed and snaps at her, “what the hell are you looking at?”

Other lady says nothing.

“I said, why are you staring at me?  What is your issue?  Stop fucking staring at me?”

Other lady says, “I am not looking at you I am waiting for my laundry.  Stop being such a fucking bitch.”

At this point I leave.  I don’t need to see a cat fight.

An open letter to my downstairs neighbour

January 29, 2008

Dear kindly neighbor,


I like to think that you ad I get along.  After all, you warned me about the psycho next door, and we have bonded over issues with him, especially the day Ricky and I got locked out and we waited on the steps together until the lock man came.  Oh yes, I like to think of you as the sane neighbor.


I ignore the fact that Elaine told me that you are on parole from some thing in NY.  I ignore that Elaine ahs mentioned you and your mom pop prescription drugs like they were skittles.  You are quiet and polite and keep to yourself, as am I.


So I apologize for buzzing your door tonight and asking you, at 10:15pm, to please turn down your music because Ricky is asleep.  But I am also shocked at your look of disgust at me and then saying, ‘yeah, I guess so” before shutting the door in my face.  It’s cold sir and I have walked down the stairs in to the cold to ask you a simple favor because my cranky almost three year old who is sick has finally gone to bed after hours of trying. 


Perhaps I should have mentioned to you that while I am sure it was wonderful for you at midnight last night to crank up your Usher until 2am, for me it consisted of ear plugs and a fussy kid who CAN’T wear earplugs.  I have never once complained to you that when we are napping in the afternoon, you play your music so loud I can make out the words to Sexyback through the floor.  Why?  Because I understand that it is the middle of the day on a Tuesday, or a Friday, or a Sunday. Nor have I mentioned this to our landlords because I figure we are adults and can handle ourselves responsibly and cordially.


However, if you blast and of that shit again at another god-awful hour, FUCK THE LANDLORDS I WILL CALL THE FUCKING POLICE.




Oh shit. FCM mom has to go to court.

January 23, 2008

Damn it.  Called  to testify in a wrongful death case.  and yes, that’s all I can say due to legal ramifications.  that and I hate hate HATE being a witness.    ugh.  Feb 4th.  damn it. 


January 7, 2008

I just broke my wrist.  

In which FCM drops the S bomb

December 24, 2007

“ricky michael zander… if you don’t go to sleep right now Santa isn’t going to come to our house!”

Bah Humbug

December 23, 2007

Not really feeling the xmas mood. never mind that KOIT radio has been playing fucking Xmas carols non-stop since Thanksgiving day. Just not in the mood.

so here are some of my favorite Xmas ditties for you: Xmas at ground zero

It’s Christmas at ground zero
There’s music in the air
The sleigh bells are ringing and the carolers are singing
While the air raid sirens blareIt’s Christmas at ground zero
The button has been pressed
The radio just let us know
That this is not a test

Everywhere the atom bombs are dropping
It’s the end of all humanity
No more time for last-minute shopping
It’s time to face your final destiny

It’s Christmas at ground zero
There’s panic in the crowd
We can dodge debris while we trim the tree
Underneath the mushroom cloud

You might hear some reindeer on your rooftop
Or Jack Frost on your windowsill
But if someone’s climbing down your chimney
You better load your gun and shoot to kill

It’s Christmas at ground zero
And if the radiation level’s okay
I’ll go out with you and see all the new
Mutations on New Year’s Day

It’s Christmas at ground zero
Just seconds left to go
I’ll duck and cover with my Yuletide lover
Underneath the mistletoe

It’s Christmas at ground zero
Now the missiles are on their way
What a crazy fluke, we’re gonna get nuked
On this jolly holiday

What a crazy fluke, we’re gonna get nuked
On this jolly holiday!”

or how about this one?

Silent Night

Silent night,

Broken night.

All is fallen,

When you take your flight

I found some hate for you,

just for show.

You found some love for me,

thinking I’d go.

Don’t keep me from crying to sleep

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Silent night,

Moonlit night.

Nothing’s changed.

Nothing is right.

I should be stronger then,

weeping alone.

You should be weaker then,

sending me home.

I can’t stop you fighting to sleep.

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Or my personal favorite (to the tune of it’s beginning to look a lot like xmas)

I’m beginning to feel a little bankrupt

With every gift I buy

Oh, the credit card companies

Love it so when they see

Me spend more than I’ll earn before I die

I’m beginning to feel a little bankrupt

Bills come every day

But the ugliest sight I see

Is the mortgage rate increase

Four percent to eight

How much I would like to say

Things will all be OK

And soon I’ll be swimming in dough

But payments are due

And soon creditors sue

It’s a cycle don’t you know

And I don’t thing that I can wait

for my bank account to grow

And I don’t thing that I can wait

for my bank account to grow

I’m beginning to feel a little bankrupt

There’s no one left to blame

I should never have bought that Wii

Or that new MP3

Why do I so like to play this game?

I’m beginning to feel a little bankrupt

Soon I’ll start to yelp

But the thing that’ll stop my frown

Is if interest rates go down

Ben Bernanke help!

Ben Bernanke help!”


(my cousin wrote that one as his yearly parody)