Quotes from the Princess

Apparently she has watched Mean Girls with me one too many times, because tonight she told me: "I'm popular, Mom".

Also? Last night she had an inspiration: "You know what, mom? This year, when Santa comes, I'm going to set up my camera to take a PICTURE of him, so I know what he REALLY looks like".

Of course, I told her that I think Santa is magic and can't have his photo taken on Christmas Eve night (like Vampires or something like that).

But what I really want to do is take a picture of me and Daddy trying to figure out how to put together her EZ Bake oven and trying to undo the American Girl Doll from all the ripcording and twist ties holding her to the box. Then give it to her in a few years and tell her that the camera actually DID work.

Christmas Number one: completed

We just got back from the long weekend. We completed Thanksgiving, and Christmas with my family. Over the course of the weekend, I was able to refresh and renew my spirit, which I was definitely needing. We did a lot in four days:

Thanksgiving at the inlaws. I know now why my husband will never be a huge complimenter. His family is stone cold silent unless trading barbs, insulting each other, or telling each other to shut up. Thank God my husband is trying to do better than that for his own family.

Shopping, lattes and manicures/pedicures with my own mom, whom I haven't seen in almost four months. I needed my mommy something fierce.

I got to see Rent! Yay! Is it cinematic genius? No, but it will help me quell the need to see it again and again onstage for sixty bucks a pop when I can own it on DVD.

Christmas with my family. Lots of good food and all my family together. Small boy has a head cold, so he was a bear, and I don't remember what presents anyone else opened, but it was fun anyway.

I also was able to get some salon hours in, practiced makeup on my mom, as well as waxed her legs and brows. It was nice to share what I'm learning with my mom, even though she was astonished that I "really found this any fun".

So we're back. Tree is up, round one of presents put away. Laundry underway, dishes done, and we even got to go out to dinner last night because no one felt like cooking.

Life is good.

Now the fun begins: last eight weeks of school, part time job through new year's, and crap weather with sick kids (and mommy).

Wish us luck.

"officially out of money"

Now, I'm not sure exactly what this means, but it's what my husband told me last week that we are...out of money.

Now this may be the case for half of America. Debt, credit cards, etc. We have been very fortunate to have made it this far without it. We're VERY good savers...watch where our money goes, buy what we can afford (please ignore my post about my Coach purse purchase this summer), and don't go out very often. I even cut up my frigging credit cards three months ago...it's KILLING ME, I tell you!

How does one just run out of money??

Well, between school fees (me and girlchild's totals were more than 10K) and the newfound hell of Daycare costs (600 bucks out the window every month), and no more money coming in...I guess we're in the red.

So I've taken a part time job. Waiting tables at a dinner theater forty five minutes from home. One that will take me away from my beloved kids and hubby another 18-24 hours a week. Add sleep and dinner to the hours in the week, and I get to be with them a whole two hours a day. If I'm lucky. Plus Sundays.

This blows.

I really didn't post this to be all "pity me". It's a rant...it will be done by next spring: I'll finally be working, the kids will be in daycare less often, and my husband's stress level will finally return to normal (just a shade under "11"). But until then, it's a good thing I already bought Christmas presents.

On a lighter note, it appears that the Repubs in power right now are finally being exposed for being lying bastards. And that does make me smile. :)

Superficial friends suck

We had a halloween party last night. Sent the evite a month ago, and got a decent response. Expecting upwards of thirty people, I was looking forward to night of right debauchery (these being theatre folks, and all). I cleaned the house, made lots of cool treats, got up in my costume (Buffy, of course), and got ready to party. Took the kids to the neighbors' house for a sleepover, hung pretty lights on the deck, bought shitloads of beer.

Seven comes and goes. Jer, Ash and I sat and watched the entirety of Nightmare on Elm Street. Eight o'clock comes and goes. I begin drinking heavily, feeling that perhaps I have no friends. I check the evite, afraid I may have put the wrong date down. I get three phone calls, all from friends halfway across the country. If they were in town, they'd have been on time, dammit. One person called to say she couldn't make the party because she'd been puking. I'm sad, because she was someone I was really looking forward to seeing, but appreciate the call nonetheless.

First couple shows at 8:15. No costumes, but at least we have some friends. Then the next couple arrives. And the next. A few more awesome people arrive, about half in costume. But then, it stops. 12 people came to our party.

Now, there are about 8 people I saw just the weekend before, who raved they couldn't wait to see us, they love us so much, blah blah blah. Didn't come, didn't call.

I am embarassed. Partially because the people who came expecting a raucous shindig had to settle for a lame, sit around and talk and don't try and talk about the fact that more than half of our RSVPs stiffed us, and partially because I am being a crappy hostess, depressed and crabby, taking for granted the people who DID show up and wanted to spend the evening with us.

I don't want to approach the twenty people on the evite who viewed the invite and never responded. At all. Not even a "screw you, I have better plans". I even offered the option of "maybe" on the evite. Fuckers.

So there you have it. I spent my weekend in Martyrville, upset that 85% of my best friends live a day or more's drive away, upset that I had wasted perfectly good babysitting for a quiet evening that they very well would have slept through peacefully upstairs, and upset that all these great "friends" I have aren't really very good friends at all. And they are tacky to boot.

It's been a really rough couple of weeks. Stressed at school, stressed at home, and now this. It's time to purge toxic friends once more, and get back to what (and who) really matters.

So thank you, my dear friends who came. Thank you for propping me up and having a good time despite the lameness of my party. Fuck you my superficial friends who didn't bother with even an email to say why you shit on my parade.

*my* first brazillian

Not on the receiving end, mind you. But I gave my first full wax job today. It took like an hour and a half total, because I kept having to stop and breathe, and give the poor girl a chance to rest. It went fine, and looked good, if I do say so myself. But when it was over, the girl and I came out of the wax room with hair askew, sweating, and even panting a little bit. I needed a stiff drink or a smoke.

Oh, and Jill? Doesn't deserve to be in school. Not a little bitty bit. She was busted for cheating...AGAIN...and was given no more than a slap on the wrist. An essay on "why cheating is bad" or some such bullshit. I don't understand...in college, that shit would get you expelled. I mean, she is lying about procedures she's doing in order to get more credits, she blantantly copies all her work in class, and has cheated now on more than one test. And yet she stays. And keeps the Springer-esque drama alive.

Yesterday we got to hear stories of her first "baby daddy", who beat the shit out of her when she was pregnant. And how she started stripping. And drugging. Now a month ago, I felt sorry for her. I even thought that she was to be commended, for getting out of the life and doing something better for her and her kids. That was before she was busted cheating. The FIRST time.

Now I'm just pissed that she's able to stay, when I am busting my ass honestly. You wanna be a screw up? Do it on your own time. I paid eight grand of money I really don't have, and I don't have time to sit and listen to you ask the same question ten times in a row. I'm here to actually learn, not pass the time.

At our school, you get to retake your tests until you pass at 85%, so Jill's test result sheet looks close to mine and everyone else's. Looks good for a school to say they have a 100% pass rate at or above a B. They don't tell you they don't average your retakes. Of course, I have a 98% passing rate from the FIRST time I took each test. She's on retake number three for some chapters. And I'm not a braniac...this isn't rocket science, people, it's beauty school. Beauty. School. Fell out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down, this one.

But midterms are in two weeks. And there are no retakes.

Muahahahahaha.