the horse that wouldn’t die: douche-free dining

i know, I KNOW. i’ve done the douche thing. but this one wasn’t my fault. well, it was, but it wasn’t. THIS WAS A REQUEST. wait...i’d better start from the beginning.

so. friday i made an appointment to take the blue OUT of my hair. i know: SISSY. it only lasted one week. the truth is: i felt bad for making people do something they didn’t want to do. see…99% of people would react with a shocked “oh wow” or something along those lines, then they were forced to try to think of something polite to say to cover their moronic asses, and i just…you know, i felt bad for them. so this way they won’t have to try to think of anything to say. also: i got real tired real quick about correcting people: i did NOT turn into a smurf you fucking morons. smurfs had blue SKIN, not blue HAIR. even smurfette- she was blonde. so…you know…all those stupid smurf comments…you’re just making yourself look like a jackass. and i feel bad about that. so. you know. now they can find other ways to let their natural moronic colors shine through.

apparently moron is the word of the day.

SO. friday- went in to have my hair changed. i knew enough not to try to do it at home…turns out i was right: brunette + blue = forest green. didn’t really suit my skin tone. forest green + reddish brunette = normal. yes…it took TWO colorings to get it back to a natural, found in nature color…and not nature as in the forest, nature as in on a human.

anytwaddle. getting there, i promise: so: went in to have my hair fixed. and my salon gal was so excited to see me. turns out she had a problem that she just KNEW i would have the solution for. and- hold on…yoga stretch…don’t want to pull a muscle patting my own back…turns out: I DID HAVE THE SOLUTION.

problem: my darling hair goddess and her adorable husband have a favorite restaurant near their house. it seems the proprietor has been having a problem keeping the area douche-free. for those of you that live…well…anywhere, you know the abundant douche problem affecting this nation. so the problem the proprietor is having is very understandable. my hair goddess said they’ve all been talking about something they could post- a sign, SOMETHING to help combat the douche problem, and immediately i came to mind…she knew i would have just the thing to help. i did not disappoint. now…i wrote this list for her on the fly and didn’t keep a copy of it, so here, to the best of my memory ability (read: i have the mental capacities of dory the blue fish when it comes to memory) is the list for her (now with comments/additional details!):

we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone. (standard restaurant sign)

we reserve the right to refuse service AND MOCK the following: (my type of restaurant sign)

anyone wearing a hat that is tilted or “adjusted” in any way. 12:00 is the ONLY acceptable position for a hat. 12:05- NO. 2:30- NO. 6:00- HELL NO and you should be slapped. when did it even become acceptable to wear a hat at the dinner table? really…MANNERS PEOPLE.

anyone who refers to any member of the staff at any point in time as bro, dude, or dawg. i don’t care if they ARE your brother- which, if they are, you should know AND USE their real name.

anyone whose skin is not a natural shade found in nature outside the fruit food group.

anyone that has a swagger not directly the result of a documented medical condition or missing limb.

anyone showing any part of their undergarments. congratulations, i’m proud of you for remembering to put them on this morning, but i really do NOT need to see your spongebob boxer shorts or your jewel accented g-string. COVER THAT ISH UP.

anyone (male specific) that orders FOR or BEFORE their date.

anyone that makes three or more substitutions/changes to a regular menu item. no, you cannot substitute the cucumber on your salad for chicken and have alfredo instead of ranch, and replace the lettuce with fettuccine. YOU’RE MAKING A WHOLE NEW DISH YOU FUCKING MORON. if you don’t like the options available, please feel free to go somewhere else…or…really out there: COOK FOR YOUR OWN DAMN SELF.

**anyone (female specific) wearing leggings as pants.

**anyone over the age of 12 that things a velcro wallet is acceptable

**anyone who feels the need to take up the space of 4 normal people by “relaxing” at their table. congratulations on your flexibility, i’m just so happy to know that you can effectively do the splits while slouching in your chair that is pushed back 483 feet from the table but sit up straight, keep the path ways clear, and keep your damn knees together. actually- please feel free to apply that last suggestion OUTSIDE the restaurant also. society really doesn’t need more douchlings running around.

**anyone who argues EVER. SINGLE. CHARGE. on the bill and then doesn’t leave a tip.

**anyone who treats their waiter/waitress as their own personal servant. they are PEOPLE. and they deserve respect. please and thank you are still recognized words in the english language (although they are becoming rare).

so…there you have it. if you know a restaurant overrun with douche, please feel free to pass this along.

**added today- not part of the original list (that i can remember…they may have been…i really don’t know).

i don't wanna grow up:

when i was about 15 or 16 my mum was INSISTENT that i needed counseling. what i NEEDED was a mum who listened and liked me. but that’s a whole different blog post.

so…needing counseling. i will admit that i wasn’t the easiest teenager but i was not in need of intense counseling (as later evidenced by being kicked out of counseling for having it too together). For years i was drug from one counselor to the next, hating each one in turn, flat out refusing to talk to some (are you kidding me? you expect me to discuss my life in detail with a guy wearing jeans tucked into his cowboy boots? who’s the crazy one there?). i did end up finding one counselor when i was pregnant with my oldest son that i LOVED. she’s the one that not only kicked me out of counseling, but then asked me to go speak to other kids because i had such a good handle on what was going on. turned the tables on that one!

my mum was CONVINCED that i was fucked in the head though, so she never gave up shoving one therapist after another down my throat. at one point she decided that i should talk to my youth pastor. yes, i was in a youth group growing up. shut it. well, this particular youth pastor and i didn’t see eye to eye on much...hell, ANYTHING. i HATED, LOATHED this man. his wife was sweet, i liked her, but he was an egotistical pompous ASSHAT of the highest degree. HATED this man. this is the guy that found out i was pregnant and made me go before the whole youth group to confess my sins. no, i’m not kidding. he thought they should hear about it from me before hearing about it in the hallways of school. DID IT MATTER IF THEY HEARD ABOUT IT AT ALL? fuck that shit. scars. seriously. SCARS.

so. it’s always good to force your (normal) teen to talk to someone they hate. good plan. i remember sitting in his office for one session just SEETHING about how he was mocking me and openly making fun of me in front of my mother. at one point he asked what my plans were for when i grow up. i looked straight at him and said “I WILL NEVER GROW UP.” and i know that sounds a little peter pan, but i followed it up with this: “if being “grown up means being like you, then i chose not to grow up, ever. i would rather stay the way i am now.”

and i know some of you are rolling your eyes at my naïve teen angst, but it’s true, and it’s stuck with me to this day. if THAT is what it means to be a grown up i NEVER, EVER want to be one. i don’t want to be the person that always knows best and is better than everyone else. i don’t want to be the person to laugh in a kids face and tell them they’re stupid (yes, my youth pastor told me that), i don’t want to be the one to make a teen in a not so great “christian” house (or any house) feel even worse about themselves. i don’t want to be the one to openly mock a child in front of a parent who will never, ever, even in the worst circumstances stand up for their own child.

time has passed, and with september and the inevitable 30 drawing closer, i realize that i am a grown up now. yes peter pan, wendy has become an old woman. but what kind of grown up am i? i’m the grown up I WANT TO BE. i’m the grown up i wish was around when i was a kid. i’m a secure, confident, happy (most days anyway) independent woman. i know who i am and what i like. i’m not afraid to be myself even though at times i feel pressure to “fit in” or be what people expect a grown up to be, i’m not what “growns ups” are supposed to be. i’m not a suit and tie and SUV person. i’m not the standard cookie cutter khaki capris and sweater sets middle aged mom. i’m the grown up that isn’t afraid to talk to kids and tell them the truth. i’m not afraid to carry a “kid” purse that says “i hate people” instead of a $150 designer name purse. i like having my own funky taste in clothes and hair and letting myself express it. i like having tattoos that i designed myself that show who i am and what i’ve been through. i like eating cereal for dinner instead of a betty crocker cook all day roast. i like watching cartoons with my kids at night and wearing purple nail polish and downloading disney songs onto my mp3 and dancing like an idiot in my kitchen.

but slowly and surely i’m noticing certain “grown up” things creeping in- i have fancy furniture now. i’m passing over long islands for a good glass of wine. i signed up for home/life/auto insurance instead of just the standard auto. i have a retirement account and 10 years seniority at work. i budget my paychecks and make sure all my bills are paid. i make (and keep) regular doctor and dentist appointments for the kids. i’ve helped people figure out big problems in life. i’ve figured out my own big problems. but i’ve done it on my terms. i’ve become a grown up, yes, but not the “grown up” that i was expected to become. so, part of my naïve teen was wrong, but thankfully more of her was right.

i don’t want to grow up. and i know i will, but i never will.

when life hits the reset button:

the other day a friend posted a video blog about taking care of yourself- following the 4 R’s: Rest, Rejuvenation, Reloading, and Reconnecting. i think those are pretty self explanatory, but if not, go check out his blog here: http://middleway.posterous.com/the-4-rs-of-self-care very wise words. as i was typing a comment on his blog, i realized i had WAY too much to say in one comment (shocker) and so decided to post my own blog.

i know…i bounce between completely crazy off the wall posts to serious life posts…imagine living with me.

but this one…i’ve been thinking about it for a while…what do you do when life hits the reset button?

you know what i mean…when everything takes a sudden left turn when you were planning on going straight or right. when life dumps you on your ass, gives you an atomic wedgie, steals your lunch money, licks your glasses (what? that never happened to you?) or in general just does whatever it can to fuck you over. i’ve had the reset button hit SEVERAL times on me. i know other people that have had it hit on them. and it’s never the same. some days the reset button is just a simple: hey- want to go to a big college? some days it’s : hey- remember everything that was important to you that you held dear and close to your heart? yeah, i’m taking that away.

and what do you do when shit hits the fan? there is no right answer. there is no perfect way to respond. there is no handbook, no right thing to do, no perfect first step. but the important part is TAKING a step. any step. to just keep stepping. like sean said in his post- you have to take time for the 4 R’s- you have to rest, rejuvenate, reload, reconnect (which implies a time of DISCONNECT which is ok). taking that in a different direction , or the scenic route of the same direction- i have to REDUCE. sean mentioned at the beginning having his routines that he does, his hobbies- i call it my core self. WHO AM I? what makes me tick? what is my main fall back that i can always go back to and always find myself in? some people it’s being out doors, some people it’s dancing or art or sports or music. for me, it’s writing. writing has ALWAYS been my fall back. journaling, writing, blogging, anything- it’s my core, it’s what i go back to. so when shit hit, i REDUCE back to my core. i cut out what i need to be it people or activities or tv or whatever. i go back to what i know best, what makes me feel my best, something i know that i can always do. i’ve been writing since i could hold a pencil (my mom still has my first book- stapled backwards since i’m left handed and it just made sense that way).

my first big reset button that i really remember was 10/1997. that’s when life said- hey, guess what: PREGO! talk about a reset button. from a no plans high school senior just wandering through life, suddenly i had someone else to be responsible for, a life to plan, things i had to do, decisions i had to make- HOLY CRAP. and at the time it wasn’t a conscious thought, but i started to journal. and i wrote about it ALL. from how it happened to thinking about adoption to the doctors appointments, fights with the baby daddy, making plans, being scared shitless, going into labor. i wrote it all out and it helped me focus and make it through it all.

second big reset button: hello divorce. wow. i just found all those journals a while back and read through them again. it got really REALLY bad there for a while. but i wrote it out. i remember TELLING myself to write that time around. i had no one to talk to, no where to go, and i KNEW that i could write. i was TERRIFIED to write. he had read a few old journals and was NOT ok with me writing- but i made myself write (and hide the journal under the mattress). it got it all out. it sorted my thoughts, reminded me on the bad days of the good things, and reminded me on the questionable things why i was getting out. it helped me hold it together and remember and make it through. it also helped heal afterwords- getting it all out about a major change- divorce, two kids, a sick baby, part time work, the whole mess. and it was A TON of crap going on. i look back now and know that if i hadn’t had some way to get myself through it- who knows. but i knew to go back to my core. i knew how to pull myself out.

the last few years big and little reset buttons have hit: problems with the kids, close people passing away, fights, loves, friends, happy, sad, pissed off. things change constantly: we’ve moved, we’ve changed schools, daycare, found out about abuse, found out about suicide, found out about betrayal- and it’s all been there on my blogs (sorry about some of those by the way…). it was my out. it was my way to make it through, to get back to a balance. i had to go back to my core, reduce to my true self: writing. and i always recommend that to people. my oldest son is turning into an artist: so when shit hits the fan for him i tell him to draw about it. i learned the hard way once to never take away his art work- holy world ending. but when he lost his step mom and brother last year he was lost. hell…anyone would be lost after a blow like that, but an 11 year old kid? and he didn’t know what to do or how to let it out and i told him to draw it out. draw his lost brother the way he wanted him to be: make him the hero in a comic book, or the main character in a story. draw about his step mom and his dad, draw whatever he felt. i don’t know if he ever did, but it helped him just knowing what to do or where to turn if he needed to. i could see the heavy lift off him when the suggestion sunk in- something he was good at and could freely express him self in. it was like watching a light bulb turn on in his head. and it’s been that way sense. when he gets stressed he draws. now we just have to learn the balance between getting school work done and being stressed at school and drawing…oy. double-edged sword!

but- i promise, i’m getting to a point. i need an editor. sheesh.

BUT. i look at friends, i look at people i know and i wonder if they have the tools. i wonder if they know the 4 R’s of taking care of themselves. i wonder if they know who they are and what their core is that they can fall back on. and i see people struggling and i hurt for them. i hurt for the lost feeling and the pain and not knowing how to come out of it.

i’ve seen so many people struggling and having HUGE reset buttons hit in their lives the last year and i wonder if they know who they are, if they have a core to go back to. do they know how to find themselves and rebuild from the ashes? and it terrifies me the ones that don’t seem to. even more so as a fixer: i want to make it better for them. i want to point them in the right direction and give them a push and hold their hand and make it all work out. but how can i point them in the right direction if they don’t know what their direction is?

i guess that’s the point. it’s not the point i started out to have…but go figure. FIND OUT WHO YOU ARE. take time away, before a crisis hits. think about it. WHO ARE YOU? what is your core? what can you fall back on? what do you need to reduce to? what can you rejuvenate yourself with? what will restore you? it’s one of the most important lessons i’ve learned in life: finding out how to heal myself. i can’t expect others to do it for me. i can’t expect other people to know what to say or what to do. I NEED TO KNOW. and i want my friends to know. i want them to know how to make it better when the really shitty reset buttons are pushed. i want to see (and help) them rebuild. i want to watch them grow and learn and come out of things instead of faltering and becoming lost. so. ugh. getting sappy up in here. please friends: take a minute to learn yourself. make a note of it somewhere you’ll run across it often. leave reminders/objects around your house. let your friends know. find out who you are. and once you know, remember to take time to be the healthiest YOU. the 4 R’s are really important to live by. because i love ALL of you. and i want you to stick around for A LONG TIME. i mean… my blog needs readers. cause in the end, it’s all about me and what i need. remember that.

this is why tuesdays: fishing

so, i was talked into suckered into joining a free dating site.

~sigh~ i'll wait while you go get the popcorn. it's gonna be a good one.

so, all the dating sites in the world- they're ALL THE SAME. same people, same badly spelled profiles, same HORRIBLE pictures. it's terrible. really, really terrible. but, due to a lack of friends with "let me set you up" schemes, and lack of time to go douche hunting at the local bars, i'm stuck fishing online...cause that's what it is: plentyoffish.com fishing. HORRIBLE.

it's this gem of a site where i dug up "hmmmmm..." guy. oh yeah. que.all.eh.tee.

so. being gifted with an abundance of perserverance stupidity i've stuck with it hoping for the ONE GOOD CATCH. but alas, much like "the one that got away", there are none to be found. instead, i shall regale you with tales of that i have found.

ready?

fish #1:
first email: those are huge!
what? maybe he's...hmm...check my profile...nope...normal pictures...what the hell is he talking about? what are huge?
for clarity, here are the pictures i posted of myself:

as you can see...nothing scandalous, nothing racy, nothing flashing anything...just me. so WHAT are huge? i'm not understanding. i'm sure he's talking about the girls...but really? there's no money shots...nothing to display them...AM I MISSING SOMETHING?
so, giving asshat fish the benefit of the doubt i email back:
me: my sunglasses? i guess they're big, but not too much.
asshat fish: ha ha, you're funny.
me: so i've been told a time or two.
ahf: so, what are you into?
me: reading, movies, usual stuff. you?
ahf: i like to read too.
me: have you read anything good lately?
ahf: you know, let's just cut to it. you gonna show me your tits or what?

~snarf~

wanna guess what my answer was?

moving on. i know. you're shocked i let that catch get away. i'll give you a moment to recover.

*hmmmmm....*

moving on? so. first thing i do when the rare email comes in is to check the profile FIRST, before wasting any time reading drivel. so, email from fish #2 comes in: i check the profile and it is *shock* all spelled correctly and in regular human language. passed the first check point. stats seem mostly normal- likes to do normal things, no drugs, owns a car (yes, these are real profile questions). the about me section say he knows how to treat a lady with respect, is interested in having a good time and getting to know someone for who they really are. ummm...BULLSHIT. but you know...let's check the email just in case:

dipwhip fish: hey. your hot. waz up?

*blink* WHAT? what happened to treating a lady with respect? if THAT is treating a lady with respect...i think i found out why he's still in the pond. and what happened to the smart person that was able to string together enough letters to form an actual sentence in a real paragraph for the profile? and what happened to the person that knew the difference between your and you're??

~sigh~

and the last one for tonight. best for last. just for you my pets. fish #3 goes by the name drdondac1. hello doctor don. hmmm...normal profile...emailed a few weeks ago...normal conversations. would like to get together for coffee...blah blah blah...all seems normal. was able to keep up with quips and jokes. this fish *MAY* have some potential...hmmmm....(yes, i did that on purpose). so, drdondac disappears for about 2 weeks. whatevs. no skin off my ass. moving on.

OH WAIT.

email from the good doctor last night. apparently he's been in tennessee on government work for the last few weeks. so. what we're going to do now is give you the email exchange, and then we'll play: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? (and all the emails are word. for. word. nothing has been changed or paraphrased...it's as real as it gets.)

me: what is tennessee like anyway? i've never been there...anything exciting in the middle of all the work?
drfish: green
me: green? hmm...that happens to be the color i'm adding to my hair this friday. well, emerald.
drfish: wow. love to see that.
me: i'm pretty excited...getting the style changed for the first time in a few years, adding in the emerald instead of the usual purple. good to change it up now and again! something new for summer. what do you like to do away from work?
drfish: keeping natural down below or changes too?
me: wow...cuttin right to it huh?

drfish: sorry Im very straight forward but dont want to offend you sorry
me: i don't offend easily...just think boys are funny. truth? not much to make changes to.
drfish: Why not ? Little girl style?

~vomit~

ok. so. besides the fact that ya'll got a TMI in there with all that...ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? now, i understand that most people would have bailed after the first red flag question in which he completely ignored my trying to have a normal conversation and  jumping straight for the basement. BUT...you know...i thought i could steer the conversation away from CREEPY a bit and go back into non-freak range. i dared venture an email or two further...

i should have known better. once they turn into a freak you can never uncross that line. but i tried to...you know...move on...but then LITTLE GIRL STYLE? i'm sorry. my radar must be broken. i completely missed the I'M A CREEPY PEDOPHILE beacon that must have been running on FULL BLAST this whole time. caught it now. "little girl style"??? did anyone else throw up? everything from the last year?  seriously. i think i just lost about 15 pounds. WHO THE FUCK CALLS IT "LITTLE GIRL STYLE"??? you fucking pervert. creeped me the fuck out.

so. needless to say: i'm giving up fishing. apparently the spokane fish pond is a toxic chemical dumping ground. mutated, freakish, dear god what is that thing? fish.

~vomit~ sorry...just can't get that last one out of my head...WHAT THE FUCK?

so. all this is to say: i'm sorry kids. it may be a while before you get another terrible date story from me. i know. it breaks your heart. but what can i do?

douche hunting

ok kids. i know i’ve already covered the topic of douches, but, like any good writer, i know when there’s a solid opportunity to beat a dead horse well into the ground and drag out a topic just a bit longer. so here we go.

one thing that people always say to writers is: write what you know. well, growing up in the northwest corner of BFE there’s two thing i’ve learned plenty about in my lifetime: #1: hunting. there’s big game hunting, deer hunting, coyote hunting, duck hunting, mullet hunting...you get the idea. the other: #2 douchebags. i’ve had more than my fair share of experiences with them. so. writing what i know...combining the two things together: DOUCHE HUNTING.

additionally, in the scary world of dating there has recently been this development of “players” or “pick up artists”.  this is the douche way of hunting women. i say let’s turn the tables and teach douche hunting. so. this shall serve as your guide.

if you read the post the other day about what (is) a douch, you should already be familiar with several douche terms. i would like to now throw in a few additional hunting specific terms before i get to the actual stalking of your prey just to make sure we’re all on the same page:

what is a group of douches called? there’s a herd a deer, a flock of geese, a murder of crows...but what is a group of douchebags called? a fraternity. a fraternity of douche.

douchetard: a douche who doesn’t realize he’s a douche. he’s either in deep denial or truly oblivious to what is an obvious stank of douche to those around him. when hunting it is best to avoid douchetards as it is unethical to pick of the weakest link in the herd...no one likes an easy kill. additionally, it may be difficult to get a clean shot on a douchetard as they may miss social cues or advances and spoil the hunting trip by tipping off the rest of the fraternity.

douchebait: someone who has recently been through some sort of break up or tragic event. while having douchebait with you is optimal, it is not required since there are generally plenty of douches around and baiting one may not be necessary. just in case though, good douchebait is someone who has the air of wounded/broken spirit about them. if you have a friend who has recently been crying, in a dramatic fight, or has just left a serious partner the scent they give off will be an instant attractant to any douche within a 10 mile radius. as this bait is so potent, make sure you do not have several such friends with you with you at any time. you will be surrounded and overcome by douche, and there will be no escape.  additionally, if you happen to be going through something painful or tragic, it may be best to stay home until the moment has passed to prevent any unwanted douche attacks.

douche hunting gear: if you plan on going out douche hunting, like any sport it is important to have the right gear and apparel. stiletto heels, short skirts, “party shirts” and several spackeled on layers of make up will produce the best results when combined properly.  for skirts: anything that has a flash potential and hugs the RIGHT curves will do. for shirts, you want something that supports and displays your girls without giving away the farm. a good glimpse is optimal so make sure the shirt is snug and low cut, but not tight and threatening to overflow. as to make up, think tammy faye baker. there is NEVER enough eye shadow or rouge, the thicker the better, and if you are completely unrecognizable as yourself after the make up is applied then you are close to a perfect result.  to be safe you may want to add one last layer of everything. remember, it will be dark, and you do not want the douche to recognize you at any other time.

now that we have the proper terms and gear, it’s time go hunt some douche.

fraternity’s of douche generally come out at night. optimal hunting is between the hours of 10 pm and 1 am.  hours can be extended past 1 am, but the risk of the douche being too inebriated are statistically higher, and to get the best kill the douche needs to be alert and aware of what is going on at the time.

with your douche gear in place, venture out at night and head towards any spot promoting “ladies night”, “djimcoolerthananyone”, or any place with low priced drinks/shots.  once inside your hunting spot, pick a place with good visibility of the bar, the dance floor, and the entrance to the ladies room as fraternity’s of douches are known to congregate in these places. when picking out your target make sure you select a douche with a large crowd around him. the larger the potential audience, the greater the kill will be.

with the selected kill in your sights, slowly move in with your douchebait and wait for the fraternity to notice you.  if this hasn’t happened in .32 second, you may need to lower your shirt 1/4 of an inch or make your bait dissolve into tears. in extreme hunting situations, any girl on girl action will also instantly grab the attention of a surrounding fraternity. be careful when pulling out the big guns though as this may attract several fraternity’s at the same time creating a douche-off situation which is never good for anyone.  you will know when the douche has noticed you as he will begin a series of “guranteed to work” pick up artist lines, lame conversation starters, or awkward “i’m really into you” questions.  carefully lure the douche into conversation, allow him to buy you a drink, encourage him to oogle your best assets through subltle body movements. carefully plan your moment for the perfect strike.  when the surrounding fraternity of douche are paying attention and when you douche is feeling particularly confident you can make your strike.  
there are several ways to go for a take down:

#1 BEFORE he asks for your number, casually ask if he’s single. no matter what the true answer is, you can be assured that the douche will answer to the affirmative.  he thinks he’s in. you will see a slight glow build in his eyes. there will be a change in body movement, something akin to a really lame cobra getting ready to strike. as soon as he as answered affirmative, let him know how glad this information makes you because you have a gay friend that would be PERFECT for him. if you have an actual gay friend with you, or someone wiling to assist your hunt by playing a gay friend, the results will be EPIC.  motion for them to join you at this point and watch the douche slowly crumple and lose life. you will know your stike has been successful when you hear a large “ooooooo” sound from the surrounding fraternity, or any number of loud, angry, “I’M NOT GAY’’ statements emerging from your target.  well done.

#2 if you have not been able to strike before the douche asks for your phone number, you can go for a secondary strike. (*side note: it is a well know fact that douche enjoy being able to collect phone numbers and compare tally numbers at the end of the evening.) when the douche makes his move and asks for your digits, there are several options- you could wound, maim, or go for a kill.
wound: respond with: A) i would love to give you my number, but my boyfriend (or girlfriend) would get really mad. this leaved the douche slighty wounded, but also believing he has a change to lure you away from your imaginary partner.

maim: respond with: A) “oh, i’m not looking for a relationship right now, but you seem like a really great guy and it would be great to be friends.” mentioning the “FRIEND” word around a douche will stun him and send him into a stupor. all douche know that being the mayor of the friendzone is one foursquare badge they do not want to unlock.

kill: respond with: “i’m sorry, i thought you were gay. i was actually going to ask for your number to pass along to a friend of mine. you would be PERFECT for him.” calling a douche’s sexuality into question is the ultimate kill. they are extremely unsecure in this area of life. it will be the ultimate attack on their weak spot and they will fall hard. the douche may issue a few tourettes like death phrases along the lines of “you bitch”, “youre a cunt”, any number of expletives, or half sentences and mutterings. there will be a general uproar from the rest of the fraternity sounding like half laughs/gasps/defenses of their fallen comrade. the douche may stalk angrily away, or lapse into complete silence.

a common mistake in douche hunting for beginners is thinking that they somehow misread their target and picked out a non-douche. this is a clever decoy tactic by the fraternity. some have evolved over time to make sure one of their pack is less douche-like, but be assured this is just a decoy.  do not at any time give out a number (real or fake) as this will only strengthen the fraternity and their mistaken sense of importance in the social world.

when douche hunting, it is best not to try to pull off multiple kills in the same night. it is time consuming, and generally degrading.  additionally, try not to pull off too many kills in the same general location as the fraternity’s do have some small evolution skills and may begin to ignore even the strongest of bait. if you start to notice only the douchetard of the group picking up on the scent of the bait, you know that it is time to move on to new hunting ground or call it a night. all hunters develop their special skills or tricks, and i encourage all you to do the same. go with what works for you.

happy douche hunting darlings.

funny how things happen

so, i've made the joke several times about my baby factory being closed. as in CLOSED. as in i told them to just pop it all out and give it to someone that needed one since mine obviously worked so well and surely someone must want one...

my factory was closed 7 years ago while they were fishing for a second spawn. like a bogo sale: two procedures for the price of one. if they could have thrown in a tummy tuck and a little lipo at the same time it would have been even better. but i joked with my doctor at the time that he'd better do a damn good job or else he'd be raising the next one...he assured me that he did TWO LASER CUTS on each side so NOTHING was getting through. he was actually a really great doctor...delivered both my spawns. had a great sense of humor, even about things like that. and not only was he a great doctor, he was already a great dad. with FIVE kids of his own. you know...what's one more?

there's a point...i promise.

well, there's been times over the years where i've had a few panic attacks and wondered JUST HOW GOOD OF A JOB DID HE DO? like the time a year or so ago where i was approximately 56 days late, had peed on around 98748 sticks (or maybe just two), and had even gotten an ultra sound JUST TO MAKE SURE. or this year where i just broke a run of 15 days late (technically it's still thursday by three minutes, so i'm still allowed to cross the TMI line).

to put it simply, even though i've been assured and reassured and KNOW it won't happen, i've still had moments wondering...will he have to make good on that deal and raise another kid?

well...turns out...

YES.

just not mine.

that was fun. freak out a little? ha ha ha ha ha...sick and twisted sense of humor.

talked to my mum last night for a bit and the topic came up...turns out over the years my old doc HAS adopted several kids. two siblings a bit ago, and currently is in the process of adopting brand new twins (or at least they took one home for a bit...may just be temporary foster or an adoption...not sure yet).

how cool is that? i mean...if i'm counting right, that puts him up to...what...5+2+2...WAY MORE THAN I COULD HANDLE....which was why the factory was closed...but...i guess he WOULD have followed through...

people like that are just...AWE.SOME. seriously, can we have a few more like that? i know a BUNCH i would be willing to boot off the island so they could be replaced by GOOD people like this! let's vote, shall we?

just to clarify: great doctor. baby factory securely closed. no longer in limbo wondering on ANY points. and NINE. N.I.N.E. that's a LOT of diapers and patience.

TMI Thursday: the grooming edition

are you shuddering already? yes, that's right: TMI AND GROOMING together in one.

so. ladies. (was that creepy to anyone besides me?). you can sit back and just agree with me on this post. i'm addressing any of my men readers at this point (hopefully there's A LEAST one...if i can make the difference in ONE person's life...).

*ahem*

grooming: we all know i'm not one to beat around the bush, so i'll get right to the point. MEN: GO GET A MANICURE AND PEDICURE. or at least learn how to do it yourself. jesus fuck people. is anyone else sick of getting into bed with a tree monkey? as in YOU COULD CLIMB TREES WITH THOSE THINGS. ~vomit~

i mean...REALLY. i can't even discuss the feet issue...too gross for even me. just get it fucking taken care of. when your toe nails are a darker shade of yellow and thicker than a 2 pound block of tillamook cheddar...GET IT FUCKING TAKEN CARE OF. there is NO shame in getting a pedicure. any woman you ever get in bed with ever again will love you for it. ew. mental image. i just threw up a little.

now the fingers. ~sigh~ i know it seems gay in the not happy way to go in and get a manicure. I GET IT. but GET OVER IT. it isn't. and i'm not asking you to get all buffed and polished. you don't need to get flowers and hearts painted on your pinkies. i'm just asking POLITELY (or...you know...DEMANDING) that you have something less than wolverine claws when you *ahem* go there. and by there i mean: QUIT TRYING TO EDWARD SCISSORHANDS MY SPECIAL LADY AREA. holy christmas. jagged nails ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. rough hangnails and callouses DO NOT "add to the experience".

how would you feel if i had a jagged chipped tooth that i refused to have fixed? or if i went all hard core twilight junkie and sharpened myself some fangs? or if i wore sandpaper gloves to add to your experience??

GET IT FIXED. it's cheap, it's relaxing and enjoyable (there's a reason women do these thing all the time). you can go in the middle of the day when your guy buddies are at work so no one will see you. hell...go at night and make it a group thing. most salons have a tv in them...you can watch football while you're there. really, women will be SO HAPPY to see men getting it taken care of they won't complain about the football.

for the love of special lady areas everywhere. please. i beg you. MANICURE. PEDICURE. NOW.

(ps: DOUBLE the foot demand if you ever want to wear sandals out in public!)

what (is) a douche

and now, by popular demand (hey...one IS popular in my world. suck it): the world of douche according to me:

the other day i had a parenting fail moment: my oldest son heard me use a word and he had to ask me what that word meant. the word my friends was douche. it saddens me to my very core that i have let my oldest spawn reach this level in life (12) without a proper introduction to one of today’s most common words. see, i have a particular detestment (its a word. shut it) of/for douches. i have devised many, MANY ways to describe said “people” (and i say “people” using the term very loosely) and yet, somehow, i have failed to educate my children on this very important matter. so, as part of educating my children, i also pass my knowledge on to you.

we’ll start simple: what IS a douche?

a douche is an asshat. a fuckwit. bastard, prick, scallowag, tosser, jerk. he lacks any form of respect for any person other than himself on this planet because he is (in his own teeny tiny mind) better, faster, stronger, smarter, more charming than every other person in the history of time. he is, of course, the ultimate gift to women, the epitome of man’s man, and all around example of what we all wish we could be. outside of his teeny tiny mind (in other words, to the rest of us) he’s the guy we all put up with but no one really knows why other than to have someone to always provide something to talk about. he regularly makes a complete fool of himself, is scorned by everyone he 6-degrees-of-separation comes in contact with, and is regularly mocked by everyone at every given opportunity. a veritable peter peaCOCK strutting his stuff, trying to impress the ladies and outdo all the other cocks in the henhouse.

how do you recognize a douche? the height and build may vary, but a douche will always look like they’ve been in a horriffic battle with a bottle of LA Looks, a costco size bag of glittery fleur de lys and roman catholic crosses, and a bottle of bleach (hair, jeans, teeth...everything has been hit EXCEPT the skin which is usually a color never found in nature). the traditional douche will not be able to walk- he will have a “strut” comparable to what it would look like if regular person had been kicked in the knee by a horse, run over by a freight train, and had one arm partially severed in a ninja battle. there is an odd medical condition that affects most douches wherein their head is barely connected to their neck and bobs back and forth at random times. one *MIGHT* think that this is a feeble attempt recognition/greeting until they realize that no one in the room actually know the person, or if they did for any reason, would never publicly acknowledge this.

a few other simple things about douches:

their habitat: any dark club, hang out joint, social gathering area or home that is NOT theirs. they would invite you to their place, but their mom doesn’t allow company after 9:30.

their food: anything cooked by a woman. duh. that’s a woman’s only purpose in life. well, besides telling the douche how big their muscles are. if the woman can compliment muscles WHILE they cook: bonus.

transportation: two options:

#1: a friend’s car as theirs is (indefinitely) being “tricked out”

#2: a lowered honda with blacked out windows, a 7-14” spoiler, low profile tires, a bitchin’ stereo system, and ed hardy EVERYTHING (window stickers, seat covers, floor mats, air fresheners, steering wheel cover, and a sweatshirt in the back seat among the red bull cans).

so. now that we know what a douche is and how to recognize one, let’s delve deeper into a vocabulary i have created to deal with these “people”:

douche-a-palooza: an unusually large gathering of douches or a large ratio of douche to regular people. generally happens at “manly” events: UFC fights, monster truck rallies, strongest men competitions, and anything taking place in the state of new jersey.

“you have a little douche on you”: a good friend might say this as a warning. you may have inadvertently come in contact with a douche, said something particularly ridiculous, or picked out an outfit in the dark and left the house before you noticed. this should serve as a yellow warning. it is not a red light, but you should definitely proceed with caution.

douchetastic: something that would only be considered cool, relevant, important by a douche.

dante’s level of douchedom: much like the levels of hell, there are levels of douchedom. some are douches without know it (hard to believe, but it happens). some know they are douches, but choose to ignore the fact and some are douches and proud of it. the lowest level of douchedom is reached when one douche calls out another douche to a third party. when you have a douche calling a douche a douche...DAMN GINA. that’s about as low as it gets kids.

douche-ocity: the speed at which a seemingly normal person can turn into a complete and total douche. often measured in zero to douche parameters. common measurements are: women’s breast sizes, number of drinks, seconds after hearing someone mock them, and number of “manery” (accessories for guys). you may hear such things as: zero to douche in 34.DD, or zero to douche in 2 appletini’s, or zero to douche in 6 pleather wrist wraps.

in-douched: to cause vomiting or other severe reaction by any exposure to a douche. prolonged exposure to a douche can cause severe side effects such as the desire to tan for 18+ hours a day or purchase a bump-it. in extreme cases involuntary fist pumping has been witnessed.

douche-canoe: when a douche is so full of bullshit you need a canoe to escape the situation. past a hip-wader or eyes turning brown scenario. often, this type of douche is referred to as the “one upper” or “the guy who has done everything”. while it can be fun to concoct stories for the douchecanoe to try to out do, it can also lead to severe brain injury and the desire to stab your own ear drums.

finndouchiary: their level of public trust in the fact that this person is indeed a true and complete douche. the more confident the public is that the person is a complete and total douche, the higher their finndouchiary rating.

and finally:

douchectomy: the process of removing a douche from your life. this can be a painful and slow process as the douche will rarely catch on or be aware of the process that is happening. the support of several friends is imperative when attempting a douchectomy. preferred methods are quick and thorough. if any traces or small ties are left back to the douche in question, the process will not take and will have to be repeated at a later date in time. the procedure can be painful and confusing at times. some douches may lash out and ramble incoherently or make outlandish accusations as an attempt to *shock and awe* their prey. some may try to change the conversation or distract from the goings on. fortunately, with a good support system, a plan of attack, and a strong resolve, most doucectomys are successful and allow people to resume full, happy, and douchefree lives.

there you have it kids: you learned something today.

you’re welcome.

think for me tuesday:

ok kids; i can’t decide, so you get all powers over my brain today and today only:

#1: pregnant or sick:

ok. so i’m tired (as in narcoleptic), grumpy, 13 days late on my “monthly lady blessing” and i’ve peed approximately 943 times today.

BUT

there’s serious lack of the sex, the boobs don’t hurt, and...you know...the small detail of the baby factory being decomissioned 7 years ago.

but...you know...you decide.

#2 which haircut?

imagine the blonde as brunette (or dark, DARK auburn), and the blue as black or purple or something more standoutish...maybe the blue with my natural brown would still work...

#3 payday

books? shoes? clothes? movies? or...you know...something more traditional like bills.

and finally:

#4 which post should i do next?

TMI dating horror story? pet peeves? new word definitions? my personal compilation of uses for the word douche? a life/spawn update?

and:

GO

Femme Writes: Women in the Work Place

On the 5th of every month, bloggers from around the world are open to write about rights and issues concerning women. First started by Shine and Marie, we’re hoping to bring a variety of women’s issues to the forefront to make people aware of what’s going on. For the month of June, we’ve chosen to write about Women in the Workplace. Please join us in telling us your stories, thoughts, and ideas on a monthly basis. To read previous installments, click here.

ok kids. so the name of the game today is: Women in the Workplace. i happen to be a woman, and i happen to be fortunate enough to be one of those increasingly rare people with a workplace. so. this is my take on it.

i have been at my job for ten year. TEN YEARS people. and i’m not even 30 yet…for a few more months. yes i  keep mentioning it. ITS THIRTY PEOPLE. anywho…i’ve been around a WHILE. there’s so many different tangents i want to pop off on…i could write four or five VERY DIFFERENT blogs on this topic…maybe i’ll come back to it again soon. today though, i want to throw out there how LUCKY our generation of women are when it comes to workplaces. when we sit back and look at it…no matter how much we hate our jobs some days or complain about boy’s clubs, or think that some places are so backwards the basic fact is that women are allowed in the workplace now. and (for the most part) respected in the work place.

different conversations have come up around our office at different times, and it wasn’t so long ago that the workplace was VERY different for women. the gals here are just in their 60’s and they talk about what it was like when they started working…holy crap…i wouldn’t have lasted a day kids. i would have been kicked out, tried as a witch, and banished to my kitchen, barefoot and pregnant for all time. which wouldn’t have been great since i can barely handle my two kids, and SUCK at most betty crocker attempts. a formal dinner party? you mean something where paper plates aren’t allowed? I’M OUT.

but you listen to these gals talk…DAMN GALS. we’re lucky.

maybe a month ago, one of our female engineers left on maternity leave. (FEMALE engineer...catch that? HELLZ YES). maternity leave- doesn’t sound like a big deal. i went on maternity leave 7 years ago for my small spawn and didn’t think twice about it. OF COURSE i would go on maternity leave. OF COURSE i would come back to work after my set number of weeks. what’s there to think about? well, the little engineer that could went out on leave and the rest of us started talking about when we had our kids and what the company was like at the time. turns out it was only back in the 70’s in my company when the first woman (and she was fairly high up in the company) was allowed out on maternity leave as we know it. in other words she left FULLY INTENDING TO COME BACK. not just to go home, pop out babies, and be a house wife forever thereafter. the 70’s kids. that isn’t so long ago. and she was a trailblazer for coming back to work. BIG FUCKING DEAL back then. now days it’s just…whatever. of course i’ll leave and come back. thirty years ago. that’s it. thirty years ago and my whole career would have been different.

hell- thirty years ago and i wouldn’t have even HAD a career- single 19 year old mom- i would have been locked away “back east visiting relatives.” yikes.

but much more has changed besides maternity leave- 30 years ago there is no way in hell i would have been allowed into my office the way i dress. you see, it’s friday (i’m writing early because a saturday post? are you kidding?). friday = casual day. hell- most days are casual day for me. probably more days than should be. today i’m in jeans (nice, clean jeans), a nice cotton shirt, and chuck taylors. JEANS. SNEAKERS. at the corporate office. thirty years ago casual day didn’t exist. if you worked in an office it was SKIRT, blouse, hose, and heels. EVERY. DAY.(and don't forget your slip. only trashy girls wear a skirt without a slip!)  i would have gone insane. i HAVE several cute skirts. i HAVE my share of gorgeous heels. but EVERY. SINGLE. DAY? i'm not opposed to being all business, but the fact is i sit at a desk on the third floor, well away from any customers or even people outside out department. does wearing a skirt affect my ability answer the phone and type a letter? thinking: not so much. but thirty years ago it wouldn't have mattered. SKIRTS. PERIOD. and i know some offices are still that way- bigger cities, legal offices, more professional offices where people are greeting/working with the customers all the time. i'm spoiled, i know that. several gals have talked about when they started working and it WAS the pencil skirts and suits. not even slacks- pants were for men. and now...so different.

and i know these things seems stupid. they seems small. and that's the way it should be. that's the way the women before us have made it. MAD PROPS GALS. thanks for making my career livable! and I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW there is so much room for improvement. i know that pay is NOT equal. i know that women are still being passed over for jobs due to the ever enduring "good ol boys club." i know that there's still sexual harrasment. i could talk about a boss that told me "it would be better if i stuck to office work. it's better for women" or how he accused me of trying to blackmail him and whore my way to the top for daring to speak up when he was doing illegal and unethical things. i KNOW there's still bullshit. i know that every day i go to work and there's high school graduates making twice what i make with a bachelors degree because they're in "boy jobs" (linemen, warehouse workers, heavy equipment operators). but STILL. looking at where we've been, and looking at where we are...HUGE strides have been made, and now it's up to us to keep pushing and make even bigger strides for the next generation. i HOPE that one day girls can look back and say "what's the big deal" about some of the things we're fighting for now in the workplace. i hope that one day they can have their choice of jobs, equal pay, equal treatment WITHOUT QUESTION. but for now, i'm going to enjoy sitting in my jeans, speaking my mind, and even HAVING a job.