Category Archives: rants

I Think I’m Doing It Wrong…

The first time I heard about Craigslist was 2005. I didn’t have a car, a television or a “going out” dress.  I was living in San Francisco, making $11.10 an hour and sharing one toilet with FIVE roommates. I couldn’t even afford to browse other people’s unwanted junk.

Years later, I’m back in Maryland with unwanted junk of my own. I make regular donations to The Lupus Foundation every other month or so (they pick it up from your porch!), but today I rediscovered a new-ish cheap high chair that Kevin told me we didn’t need in the first place. I fed Elsa her first few solids in it and to the back of the closet it went. It mocks me. This thing needs to go. So I made my first ever post on Craigslist. My high chair. Tags attached. I could hardly wait for my first potential “customer.”

Maybe I never should have looked at the personals (NAKED PENISES ARE ON THERE OMFG.) Maybe I should have stopped checking my email after 9pm. Maybe I really need to stop watching “I Survived…” on Bio?

Every inquiry in my inbox is freaking me out.

Why are you looking at high chairs on Craigslist at 10pm?
Why would you ask me to meet you tonight – it’s 11pm?
Why did you stop responding when I suggested a public place?
What if they punch me in the face and run away with my cheap high chair AND $15?
Could I end up with a broken nose over $15?
Could they make my nose cuter if it had to be reset?
What if someone follows me home looking for more stuff?
What if they steal my kid?
Why did I think I could be normal about this?

Is anyone else like this or do I need my DVR privileges revoked?

In summation, this high chair may or may not be going back into the closet tomorrow.

Too crazy for craigslist.

waiting.

What a ridiculous week.

Earthquake? Here?! Okay.

A few paintings. Minor heart attack. No big deal.

Hurricane? Ugh c’mon. Really?

Hopefully, this isn’t as bad as expected. We have some friends on the Eastern Shore  too stubborn to evacuate when ordered to do so.

 So we’re waiting. Any minute the power may go out. The grub will wake up from her nap. A tree may fall (please no please no please no).

And if we’re in one piece and the venue is still standing, we will be married one week from this very minute.

I hope everyone is safe and dry! I’m tired of my Twitter feed being dedicated to disasters (including the Kardashian wedding).

Booo.


Some Nights…

(sighhhhh)

Some nights I just need to come home from work,

do laundry/clean bottles/make sure the baby is asleep for the night/answer emails.

Try on clothes from 2009 before I had a baby/eat a plate of spinach for dinner.

Fill a mason jar to the brim with ice and sweet tea vodka and try to forget about every part of this day that made me feel less wonderful than I did before I left the house today.

Here’s to tomorrow.

check no. 1658

I definitely wrote a personal check to a hotel today.

It was nearly as much as my paycheck and this deposit means that we are most definitely getting married or at the very least  having our reception on September 3.

Unless one of us should die in the next five months, it’s totally happening and all I want to do is eat Chic Fil A and watch Bridezillas on demand. I’ll be a good wife.

p.s.

p.s. Fall...

In addition to the all day non-stop cold (but still uncomfortably hot and humid) rain today, I’d like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the fact that said rain is now leaking through my roof, ceiling and whatever ancient shit was supposed to be built between the two to protect my family and property. Seriously. My daughter’s whale shaped bath tub looks better in our bedroom anyway.

$

You’re  a spiteful bitch.

Bottled Water Just Lost Its Appeal

Oh, hey Fall! You know how you’ve been my favorite time of year since… oh, I don’t know, birth? Well. I’m done. I take it back. You’ve been terrible to me this year and it’s unforgivable. I’ll start small. The 90+ degree days and rain storms do not equate to my fond memories of relief. By late September the windows should be open every day. Which brings us to the next point of contention…

WHAT. THE. FUCK? This – I don’t even want to discuss. I mean, I appreciate the days that are nice enough for open windows. Too bad these dickheads barrel through the cracks in our civil war era screens like it’s free admission day at Disney Land. Just crush them? Great idea, Fall except that when you crush them, their gross buttholes (or whatever, I’m not an Entomologist) spray something that smells like cigars and old tofu. We have to lure them into water bottles of dish soap…

Thanks a lot. Now I feel like Buffalo Bill.

Finally, the allergies you’ve brought this year are just marvelous. My throat looks like a raw hamburger. My nose, which I haven’t breathed through in days is perpetually red and slathered in Carmex. My cough wakes my baby up which means even less sleep for me… but since I’ve given up trying to plaster makeup on my itchy leaking eyes, I guess I’m not leaving the house anyway.

You’re dead to me this year. Winter is looking better and better.