An open letter...

I'd like to take the opportunity to thank some very special people in the world: Bitchy Wives.


Your unyielding cuntiness has made my life a little easier, and you have my utmost gratitude. Let me explain:


It all starts when you meet your future husband. He's smart, cute in a dorky way and never seems to look at other women (well, not 3-dimensional women anyway). He treats you well, has a good work ethic and seems to want to settle down. He's pretty great in every way... except that pesky comic book/action figure/anime/video game/cult DVD collection that seems to take up his garage/room in his apartment/section of his parents' basement.


You ignore the collection(s) because hey, you're only dating. It's not like you guys live together and you have to look at that vintage Millenium Falcon every day, right?


But then, things get more serious. Maybe a couple years goes by and you decide you guys should move in together. You can only afford a one bedroom apartment, but you have to get two. One room for your sweet, sweet lovemaking and another for the boxes upon boxes of collectibles the Mister has.


"OK", you think, "It's not like we're MARRIED. I can overlook all this stuff."


But then you do get married.


And the hammer drops.


"It's me or the stuff."


Naturally, you win.


The poor schlub brings his collection(s) in to my husband. Tears in his eyes, he tells Jim the oh-so-familiar story of woe before walking out with a fraction of the cash he shelled out over the years to collect all that stuff. Unfortunately, Overstreet doesn't factor sentimental value into the going rate of that run of Spawn the Mister meticulously bagged and boarded 18 years ago.


A few years go by and things don't work out so well. If you ask me, the writing was on the wall the second you asked him to get rid of his stuff, but that's neither here nor there.


After you split up, after you've stripped the poor knucklehead of his toys for entrance into your favor, Jim gets another visit. This visit ends on a much much happier note--for him AND for Jim.


And, most importantly, for me.


Thanks to you, Bitch Wife, I've got a whole mess o' bills paid off.


You didn't think that Spiderman obsession vacated his brain the minute the vows were spoken, did you?


My eternal gratitude to all the Bitch Wives, the "grownups", the "ultimatum givers" and the Suburban Upwardly Mobile Haters Club.

I thank you. My husband thanks you. My bank account thanks you.

Sincerely,
Bacon Lady

I've been watching way too much reality television

Suggested titles for forthcoming Pussycat Doll songs:


Look at My Snatch!
Who Wants a Ham Sandwich?
Attention Whores Need Love Too
Best Cocksucker in da House (dance remix)
Doncha' Wish Your Drag Queen Was Hot Like Me?
(Oops) I Forgot my Panties
One Pretty Decent Singer and Some Filler
Hot Nubs

Playing Catchup

This weekend I went up to Chicago with my friend Travis to see a "band" named Girl Talk at the Metro. What a clusterfuck that was.

Don't get me wrong. I had a fabulous time. We stayed with one of his oldest friends and her husband and I couldn't have asked for better hosts. The evening was a late celebration of the husband half of our boarders.

They had a little get together before the show, and hired a limo to take our tipsy asses into the city.

Travis did my hair and makeup and the end product was stripperific. I loved it.

The show wasn't slated to start until 11pm, so I was leery that I was even going to make it there without falling asleep. When we got to the Metro, the line was wrapped around the block so we hit a nearby bar to kill some time.

Sometime after midnight I looked up at one of the television screens to see that Obama took South Carolina with 55 percent. Suddenly I caught my second wind. How amazing is that? I was positively giddy.

I was so excited that I nearly forgot that we still a show to attend.

At close to 1:30 in the motherfucking morning, we stepped foot into the show. I didn't really know what to expect. I'd never even heard of this "band" before, but it was a free ticket and a weekend getaway so who am I to complain?

That was a joke. I'm totally going to complain.

The show was basically a dude on stage with a DJ setup, playing his CD and pretending to spin records. I think.

I was so confused.

The music was fun. It was basically "mash ups" of intertwined riffs and samples of everything from Elton John and James Taylor to Britney Spears and--I swear to the babyjesus--a snippet of a Tones on Tail song. Crazy.

Travis and I agreed that the whole ordeal made us feel elderly, or "oldsters" as we lovingly referred to our posse for the night.

The people watching was amazing though. I am such a stare queen in situations like that, and I was not left hanging for a moment.

I will say that while I joke about feeling old, I know I'm not. I am however too old to deal with the shitastic bathroom situation at the Metro. It was gross the last time I was there (13 years ago. Mazzy Star.). The full magnitude of its gut wrenching nastiness is even more apparent now without a cloud of smoke to cover it up.

We didn't get back to our hosts' house until almost 4 in the morning. Christ, who do I think I am?

The whole night can pretty much be summed up by the mental image I have burned into my retinas of a girl and her friend parting the crowd just fast enough to puke at my feet.

But seriously, I had a great time. Next time though, I think I'll go to the early show.

Just like the Girl Scouts, but drunker

For the record, Jim and I had a fantastic time at the little get together.

The bar was a hoot-just the type of place Jim has wet dreams about turning our extra room off the garage into.

When we first got there, I told the hostess that we were meeting a group of people. When she asked me who, I felt a metaphorical puddle forming at my feet. Aside from Grant (who, as I previously mentioned, I haven't seen in person in about 16 years), I didn't know anyone. And Grant hadn't arrived yet.

Sure, I've commented on their blogs and maybe seen a quick spapshot in a post or two, but I felt a growing sense of panic at the thought of tapping the wrong person on the shoulder.

"Hi, I write a blog. Am I here to meet you?"

I decided the gregarious group at the bar looked friendly enough not to laugh in my face.

"Um, hello. This is going to sound really weird, but who are you here to meet?"

She turned out to be the fabulously warm and easy-to-talk to MizBubs (who, if you don't know by now, is one sexy mama).

The drinks were holyshitstrong and by about 11, I was taking my shoes off to ensure my upright status.

It was such a cool experience to meet a bunch of people who, up until that night, were kind of like imaginary friends to me--the proverbial "girlfriend in the Niagra Falls area".

There's been so many times I've read what someone wrote and thought, "We could totally hang out and get drunk together!". And lookee loo, I got to do just that with a handful of 'em!

I'm really glad we went. I know Jim was more apprehensive about what the night would bring as he was even less familiar with those in attendance, but I know he had a good time too. I can tell he's having fun when his voice gets louder accompanied by wild arm gestures (of course, that also means he's drunk, but who's counting?).

You can read all about the evening (and see some photos) here and here.


P.S. I am taking part in some guest blogging, along with a host of others, at Grant Miller Media. Stay tuned.

Party Crasher

What am I doing tonight, you ask?

I'm getting gussied up and driving to lovely(?) River Grove to attend a gathering of a bunch of people I don't know (yet)...except for Grant but I haven't seen him for oh, about 16 years.

I'll be the overdressed redhead downing drinks, taking pictures and trying not to embarrass my husband.

Huzzah!

The Shakes

My husband's laptop died so he took mine to work with him on Friday and I just got it back last night.

One Track Mind

I love the exercise class I take on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The Monday and Wednesday ones not so much (stupid cardio), but Tue/Thur gets a hearty thumbs up.

It's a strength training class which I dig, and the teacher is really hard on us which I need.

Today was more difficult than usual because it took everything in me not to completely embarrass myself by laughing my ass off.

She had us do this move where we got down on all fours (which is funny all on its own) and alternate a raised right hand/left leg then vice versa. A set of those led to not only raising said leg/arm combo, but also touching opposite hand to opposite leg and following the path of our arm with our head (to improve our balancing skillz, yo) which the teacher insisted on calling a "reach around".

And if that wasn't enough to me into fits of juvenile giggles, she then started shouting "NOW, JUST THE REACH AROUND. NO HEAD! JUST THE REACH AROUND. NO HEAD!".

I don't know whether to feel sorry for her husband or give him a medal.

Happy Columbus Day!

Today I discovered that step aerobics doesn't have to suck. One might say it's opened up a whole new world, quite by accident really.

Be warned

I'm on this kick lately.

I'm hunting down old boyfriends, friends and "special friends". Not for anything clandestine, mind you. I just have this burning curiosity to know where they are and what they are up to. Oh, and we have a discussion going on a parenting message board I belong to. We're dishin' proper yo.

I thought I found the boy I lost my virginity to, on Myspace. It looked a lot like him and his profile came up when I searched him name, but it wasn't him. This led to seeking out others who spent some time on my "dance card".

It's been interesting.

Anyone share my obsessive "need to know"?

I am such a fucking slacker

I can't believe what a complete and worthless loser I am. I haven't updated this thing in like two weeks! Jaysus H., I really need to get it together.

It's not like I have anything else to do but tippity type away all day on a blog.

OK, now that that's off my chest...


I had a gargage sale a few weekends ago, and guess who stopped by? If you guessed none other than the infamous Dave Brown, you'd be correct!

I could tell he wanted to come in and take a look around, but I got a bit of a weird vibe off of him and stopped the tour at the back yard.

I was a little afraid he would go apeshit if he saw how many of his precious cabinets we tore out, and the alarm system, and the intercom system...

I'm pretty sure keeping him outside was a good decision.

I win!

The refrigerator that came with this house su-ucks. It's much smaller than the one we left the buyers of the old house, but that's something I could have gotten used to. The worst part of this piece of shit is that it is indeed a piece of shit. It's falling apart and the fridge part cools unevenly. I've got shredded cheese covered in ice crystals in back and warm yogurt up front. Not cool. Hahahaha! Ahem.

I got a wild hair up my ass today and decided that I was going to go out and get a new refrigerator. I was online doing a little research and got an idea of what I wanted, so after Jim got home I hopped in the car to price check in person.

Home Depot's selection was sad. One (too small) bottom freezer on the showroom floor and not a salesperson in sight to help me. Fuck them. I was off to Best Buy.

I was helped 4 seconds after walking into the appliance section and they don't even work on commission! Best Buy Guy was very helpful and found me exactly what I wanted. I told him I still had two more places to check, but he might be seeing me before close.

He was quick to add that they price match. Good to know, Mr. Salesguy.

Next stop was Sears. I got my sexy washer and dryer from Sears, and have been happy with their service in the past, so I had to give them a chance at my cash.

I found the exact same refrigerator at Sears that I saw at Best Buy--but for way more. Yikes.

I let Sears Saleswoman in on the info, and she asked me if I had any proof. I thought she was being a bitch until she added that they will price match PLUS 10%. If there's one thing about me you need to know, it's that this girl likes a bargain. I somehow feel like I've actually accomplished something amazing when I save a few bucks.

Somehow the sale gets passed onto Nervous Guy, and I have him bring up the Best Buy website on their in store computer. We find the sale price, he prints it and we're in business.

I hate talking numbers because it seems so rude and weird, but I'm going to make an exception just this once.

After the price match and the extra 10% (plus 0% for 12 months!), I got a $2500(Sears' price) refrigerator for $1600. She's a beaut too. French door/bottom freezer drawer, water dispenser inside, foldy shelf things, stainless steel and it has that Energy Star rating. Yee Fucking Haw!

They're delivering it Monday.

I need a vacation after my vacation

We got back from vacation yesterday, and I am more than happy to be home. A few hours after we walked in the door, we had a bunch of people over for the 4th. It was fun, but now I am crazy tired.

Arizona was fun but exhausting. So much family to catch up with (I haven't seen most of them since my wedding 9 years ago, and some since I was about 8 years old).

The flight out there went fairly smoothly. I don't hate flying as much as I hate flying coach. Not that I know any differently. I've always had to sit in the cheap seats.

Stepping off the plane was predictably like stepping into an oven. 114 fucking degrees. Kiss my ass "dry heat", I thought I was going to disintegrate on the sidewalk after 5 minutes.

With apologies to anyone reading that lives in Arizona, I could never live out there. It's not just the oppressive heat. I don't think I could ever get used to the lack of green. I am by no means a nature girl, but all the sand and rocks and dust everywhere depressed me. It's like everything's permanently under construction.

Luckily everyone and everywhere in Arizona is required by law to have a swimming pool. I don't know if that's actually true, but it should be. Swimming everyday definitely took the edge off.

The wedding itself was really nice. I finally had a chance to relax. The girls stayed behind with my Aunt who came with us specifically to watch the girls during the wedding and reception. Let's just say I made the most of those child-free hours.

I got really really drunk. The kind of drunk that makes it alright to take off your shoes on the dancefloor and sing "I Will Survive" at the top of your lungs. The kind of drunk that preceeds asking the party bus driver where the stripper pole is. The kind of drunk that makes you think you can play pool with a couple of the groomsmen at the after party in a short dress and not really give a shit if everyone got a show.

The kind of drunk that makes a hangover a million times worse in the desert heat.

All in all, we had a good time and last night's get together was fun too. We always had 4th of July parties at our old house because we could see some fireworks from the comfort of our own yard. Luckily the new house is only a few blocks from another set of fireworks.

Jim got some painting done on the kitchen and hung some of our pictures while we were gone. The new house is slowly starting to feel more like home, save for our next big purchase: an obnoxiously large television. I can't wait to go shopping for that.

Sometimes my nerditude knows no bounds

Your Score: Eden McCain

You scored 41 Idealism, 62 Nonconformity, 16 Nerdiness

I think you really want a donut.Congratulations, you're Eden McCain! You've got a colorful past, and your persuasive abilities are second to none. In addition, you're a quick thinker with a solid amount of guts. Your best quality: The art of persuasion Your worst quality: A fondness for some stereotypically "bad" behavior

Link: The Heroes Personality Test written by freedomdegrees on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test

And now, onto the more important stuff

I'm still riding the adrenaline high (and the hangover low) of having my house sold.

GodDAMN am I a happy camper!

The couple that bought it has a 5 year old son and are engaged. It's good to know a growing family is moving in and not some investor who might chop it up into apartments like happens to so many old houses around here.

It only took a few hours of back and forth haggling, but it was relatively painless compared to the first round of bullshit we went through a few weeks back.

We will close on our new house June 5th and close on this one June 28th, which gives us a good three weeks of moving time.

It was so weird to wake up this morning and not have to immediately start picking up and cleaning. Good thing too because the celebratory vodka tonics last night would have made the task most unpleasant.

The best part, and solid proof of how much of a total June Cleaver I have become, is that I am beyond excited to go buy a new washer and dryer. I know I want high efficiency front loaders, but that's about it. I went online yesterday to price compare not realizing just how many different brands there were.

So, it's down to you: the handful of people who might happen to be reading this schlock. Pimp me some washer and dryer combos. I need guidance here.

Just remember, choose wisely. You don't want me cursing your name every time I sort my laundry.

Resistance is Futile

The dork in me loves this.

The Little Golden Book About Zogg

Grant Miller Asks the Tough Questions

I had the honor of being grilled by none other than Grant Miller of Grant Miller Media. I feel special, and not in a grocery-store-bagger-at-Kroger kind of way either.

I met Grant back in 1991 at an arts camp for high school kids (ironically enough in the very town I live in now), so if you want some juicy dirt on him from his youth...actually I don't have any, but I'd be happy to make something up.

Enjoy!


You and I actually know each other from the real world, but we haven't seen each other since 1993? 1994? Describe why you stopped returning my phone calls.

Well if you'll recall, it wasn't phone calls but letters I stopped returning. I wish they weren't packed in the storage unit. They are still hilarious to read 13 (or is it 14?) years later. Nothing blackmail worthy, but I could be convinced to share them in the future (royalties to be discussed at a later date).
I think I stopped returning them because I was busy doing important college stuff like getting drunk, hopped up on drugs, and having lots and lots of casual sex. That took up most of my time.


2. You worked in a hair salon in Bloomington, Illinois. What's the best way to style a mullet.

Funny you should ask. Just today I saw a man jogging down the street dressed in a 1985-era Bears jersey, matching shorts and knee high sports socks (with stripes). He had a white terry cloth headband holding down a glorious mullet/porn star moustache combo. I teared up a little.

He had the right idea. It's not just about 'business in the front/party in the back', but the look as a whole. One must commit to the mullet, for the mullet is not merely a hairstyle, but a way of life.

3. Keep the sideburns or shave them off?

You could shave them level with the top of your ears and start religiously watching NASCAR. Don't forget to pull back out that free tshirt you got from sending in your Marlboro carton UPCs.

4. You're trying to sell your house. What lies have told prospective buyers or their realtors?

If I get a little hint as to who's doing the looking, I "stage" the house. One time, I knew a professor from the private college in town was looking, so I put out a few pretentious books on the end table. If I know they have kids, I make sure the art table in the dining room has a couple of the kids' drawings set out on it.

One time I almost left something really embarrassing out that would have only appealed to a vampire.


5. Why should people read your blog?

I like to use the word "cunt" in many different forms. Also, I am friends with you which makes me awesome by proxy.

I'm awesome...

...or maybe just an anal retentive fu-reak. Could go either way.

I am meticulous about my checkbook. If I don't balance to the penny I will scrutinize the ledger until I find the culprit. I can't let it go until I figure it out.

A few days ago I pulled up my online ledger to check it against my hard copy version and the online account said I had over two hundred more dollars than I had written down. Always one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I immediately assumed it was a mistake on the bank's part. There was no way I had more money than I thought.

I finally figured it out today. I wrote the March gas bill down twice (yes, our gas bill is over two hundred dollars, and that's with the "levelized payment plan" thingy).

The sad part is that I was way too excited about it. Not because I now have an extra two hundred dollars to pay the bills, but because I finally figured out what went wonky.

Is this exciting for you to read about? Certainly not.

But it made my freakin' day.