Somebody other than Jared needs a job in this house.

The email I sent to trying to get Charlie a job.


I googled pet agents for my dog, Charlie and you were the first result so I thought I would reach out.

My dog is awesome as I am sure you hear a lot. He has no special talents other than always having to pee and pooping on the floor after a walk. His favorite word is “missy” and his hobbies include composting, sleeping and starting conversations with strangers.

Since he has no regard for authority he would be better suited for still photography. Charlie is a 2 year old dachshund. He has a sister but she’s more “community college material”.

So that’s all I have. I have no headshots or anything of that nature because they’re dogs and I have a life but if you would like to see some shots I took with my iPhone I would be happy to send them along.



Good habits formed at youth make all the difference. – Aristotle

As you probably know, I hate children. They are wet, sticky little creatures that are better left unfertilized and those who make it past the “pull out method” should be left at home with a nanny until they are old enough to vote and even then, they should have a curfew.

@jaredwsmith and I spent a lovely late-morning/early-afternoon at Panera working.  We couldnt enjoy the ambience of Mark announcing every smoothie that was made on the premises over the loud speaker and the weather channel music because everybody who has ever had a child in the last 4 years in Herndon, Virginia wanted to eat at Panera today between the hours of 10:30am and 3:00pm.

After Panera, we left to go to Target to get toilet paper and paper towels. Since it is the saturday before Thanksgiving, everybody wanted to shop at Target to get things to stuff their offspring with so they can enjoy their real friends and family over the age of 22. @jaredwsmith, the kind southerner that he is, offered his cart to a woman getting a hot dog, popcorn, and a coke from the place nobody eats from in Target.  She promptly says thank you and is then swarmed by her children shrieking “mommy” and “i want to sit in the cart” because mommy always lets you sit in the cart and if you thought of something other than power rangers and gummy worms you would remember that.

Shopping at Target at any time on the weekends is better than an IUD.  You see the full spectrum of children.  You have the toddlers who are gumming the shopping cart because mom took away their crayons, you have 7 year olds laying on the floor over some legos, 12 year olds being ungrateful for the Target clothes that mom works 50 hours a week to put on their backs and 16 year olds who are shoplifting iPod accessories.

I think if I ever decide I want a younger person indebted to me I am going to adopt one of those homeless kids in Nebraska. The ones who were abandoned because of the Safe Haven law. But I would want one thats [REDACTED] and is old enough to drive.

An open letter to my neighbor from across the hall

Dear Dickwad,

I love it when you have loud, angry sex in the middle of the day.

I am truly impressed with your hat collection.

I love it when you park your range rover just on the line, it makes you look like a man who knows how to command such a vehicle.

Your West Virginia door mat reminds me of your humble beginnings.

Your cheap suit collection lets me know that you are important in your day job while your endless carosel of matching cheap women who patronize your apartment nightly tells me you know how to party like a frat boy.

But please, dear neighbor stop slamming your FUCKING DOOR.

It makes my dogs bark and it makes me hate you.

eat your vegetables, you fucking prick,


Your loving neighbors from across the hall at Springwood

Playing hardball at PetSmart

For the last two years, @jaredwsmith has said no to me being a proud owner of a fish.  In the time that he has said no I could of had 3 fish.

Today he gave in. 

We went to PetSmart to get some stuff for the dogs and to get our new fish. Our initial thought was a beta fish.  We walked around and decided to get our new friend his gear before we picked him out which in hindsight that doesn’t work because what if he doesnt like it?

We approached the 16 year old girl who is manning the reptile and fish area.  Prior to her helping us i saw her dip her little hand into a container of bugs without flinching. She is the type of girl everyone in high school avoids.  She digs biology, slimy things and books about wizards. She will probably grow up, go to an expensive college, get contacts and cure things that kill goldfish but today she works at PetSmart.

We walk up to her with our hands full of all our new stuff for our fish and were debating, black or orange? black? or orange? The black ones with the big eyes weird me out but the little orange ones are too common.  She approached us.

Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg: “Hey can I help you with anything?”

Me: “Yeah, i think we want to get a fish today”

Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg: “sure, you can’t get a goldfish to put in that bowl.”

Me: “I have had fish since I was 4, i can roll with a goldfish, relax”

Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg: “I am sorry, but I cannot sell you a goldfish if youre going to put it in that bowl”

me: “what?”

Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg: “how about a beta fish?”

me: “maybe, but i really want a goldfish”

Turns out they only had the female beta fish.  Female beta fish look like they’re dead male beta fish.  they have no color and their fins are small.

Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg: “Well, I CAN sell you one but I cannot guarantee it like I can all the other fish. Goldfish can grow to be 6 inches and if you dont have enough room for it to grow like a fucking ninja turtle the lungs will under develop and it will die”

Me: “we need to have a little husband-wife internal conversation.  We will come find you”

From here, we stood by the fish and talked for about 15 minutes weighing the options.

@jaredwsmith, who has apparently never owned a fish decided to freak out and think that this fish is going to outgrow a one gallon bowl in 3 weeks and we would have to release it into the wild because it will overpower our entire house and drink all of our wine.

We left PetSmart and came home where I promptly acted like a 4 year old.

15 minutes later we were back in the car to go get a fish.

We marched right in and Nerdy Michelle Trachtenberg wasnt working so we asked her replacement, Punky Brewster, if she would be available to get us a fish. She said “certainly” then asked us what size our tank was.  I confidently told her 1 gallon.

She then proceeded to try and read me the riot act.

I calmly put my hand up and stated “we got this, just give me the fish”.

She got Sparkles out of the tank away from his brothers and sisters and into a little bag.

We then went through all the fish asiles and found the awesomist stuff that we could for a fish named Sparkles. We got hot pink rocks, a bowl that looks like a big wine glass, and an “im crabby” sign.

Sparkles is getting settled in on the bookcase we got for the bedroom that has nothing on it except a lamp we got for our wedding.

Shit @jaredwsmith says: “good thing Sparkles lives in the bedroom, now all 5 of us can sleep in the same room. every. night.”

Be Thankful

Today in the Washington DC metro area is a rainy and cold one.  Being that I am 4 years old and insist on wearing unseasonable clothing in the cold I was dreading getting gas. Typically @jaredwsmith is kind enough to get it for me but since he has been exceptionally cranky for the last 48 hours I elected not to ask.

I loaded up my 2010 red VW beetle with my mega bag and myself in running shorts, flip flops and a hoodie and off I went.  In the spirit of being a pansy I neglected to stop at the first 3 gas stations I saw.  The 4th one I saw I decided I would rather be cold for 5 minutes then cold and get yelled at when my car ran out of gas on the road and @jaredwsmith would have to come help me push.

I pulled in and saw a guy standing by a table with cans of something on it.  Since I am not an atypical “car person” (read: really girly, afraid of things with 4 wheels and barely passed the drivers exam – the written one) I thought I wouldn’t be a target.

I roll out of the car and off the heated seats into the cold, wet air.  I did my card, selected the grade and installed the pump in my car safely without being accosted.  Then he hit me:

Kid: “I know you want to check this out”

Me: “Not really”

Kid: “oh, ok”

Never one to pass up a teachable moment I decided to momentarily take this kid under my “mama salesman” wing.

Then I got back in my car after giving him a flimsy “it’s cold and im getting back in my car”.

My gas pumped successfully (YES!) and I got back out.  I saw him hustling some other guy in a Malibu and felt a tinge of nostalgia.

I started in sales (not commission based THANK GOD) at 22 and I was awful at it.  I would come home from work and cry because of one reason or another.  But my dad, a lifelong salesman, told me to “suck it up” and “get over it”.  I did and I have gotten a little tougher and a little better since.

I waited for the kid to finish up being told no and he came back, head held in shame.

Me: “Hey, lemme get one of those”

Kid: “yeah?!”

Me: “yeah, how much are they?”

Kid: “$25 for two”

Me: “WTF $25? what is it?”

Kid: “Let me show you, it basically details your car for you”

Me: “I pay Jose for that”

Kid: “Well this works better”

Me: “fine, well give me two”

Kid: “I’ll tell ya what, $20 and I will give you this coupon”

Me: “Great”

Kid: “Are you doing this because you feel bad for me?”

Me: “Pretty much, have a good one”

And I got back in my car.

I did feel bad for him.  It was cold and raining but he was wearing an Under Armor jacket so not that bad.

It also made me so thankful for every one of our clients. Without them I wouldnt have the opportunity to wear shorts and flip flops everyday, or even write this blog post.

November is a time to be thankful and I think that it is important to be thankful all year.  Its like people who go to church on Easter and Christmas and think their conscience is clear. Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way.

So next time you see some kid trying to sell you some car wax, buy it.  Its $20 and it will get him home to his mothers basement where he belongs until he graduates college and can write a blog about when he had to sell car wax at a gas station all day.

Xanax: an informative analysis

So I guess this is the time that I need to talk about the wedding or the honeymoon.  But I am not going to talk about any of those topics.  My topic this evening is Xanax.

If you are looking for any of these topics I have done a google search for you and have provided some interesting and light reading.  the links are below:

A brief history of Xanax: Xanax or Alprazolam if you’re cheap like me and get the generic is a small and delicious baby blue pill about the size of a pea but not round like a pea because that would be a choking hazard but it is uncoated so it can get lodged in the back of your throat causing you to projectile vomit in your mouth.  Xanax is in a class of drugs called benzodiazepine’s which is a fantastic mixture of Klonopin, ativan, and the like.  they have been rumored to be addictive which is awesome because they fucking rock. Xanax is best washed down with chilled white wine.  It pairs nicely with marijuana, red meat and rice with velveeta in it. Xanax, while often perscribed to relieve the following things that may cause excessive anxiety in ones life including but not limited to:

  • loss of your keys for any amount of time
  • dog poop on the floor
  • spilled milk when you’re really stoned
  • accidentally eating a black jelly bean
  • your dad getting mom accidentally pregnant proving that they still have sex
  • missing the last pig in the level in angry birds and having to start over
  • going to the dentist for a cleaning
Xanax affects take about 30 minutes to kick in.  In that 30 minutes you have to get all your productivity that you may of may not of had scheduled for that day because you will be watching PBS for the next two hours.
Xanax often feels like you have had 3 glasses of wine or if you’re like me and a raging alcoholic it feels like two bottles of cheap white wine.  It has often been described as feeling like a sweater on the inside.

I invite you to contact your favorite local phychatrist for a prescriton for one and then rush to your local walgreens or cvs to fill it. Often a fairly inexpensive drug which is great because most of the people on it are unemployed.

Good luck and I hope that this has been an informative post.


At some point in every females life she will be a mom.  It could be a cat mom, a dog mom, a fish mom, a mom to barbies, a mom to their husbands or a mom to legit kids.

There are many different parenting styles out there and I have taken the time to compile the types of mothers there are in the wild.  Below you will find facts about the different characteristics that belong to each species.

The cheerleader: Often seen in the wild wearing her child’s school colors at sporting events.  Typically this mother pushes her young into several different sports because she knows deep down that they won’t be any good at school and god knows college won’t pay for itself. When agitated by unruly referees or opposing teams, these mothers will be seen throwing furniture, using foul language or engaging in other activities to demonstrate their distaste.

The vicarious one: This species comes in both male and female.  The vicarious one has a similar origin as the cheerleader. Typically the mother will force her young into sports or activities that she, herself, was unable to achieve when she was the age of her child.  These mothers can be seen wearing sweatpants with “Cheer Mom” on the ass in metallic print accented with rhinestones.

The mommy blogger: A hybrid between a self-righteous blogger and any other mother-type listed here.  Mommy bloggers have a network that they communicate with often referred to as a cult.  Unlike ordinary cults however, the mommy blogger cult is harder to get into.  They band together to judge you and tell you the consistency of their childs bowel movements and broadcast it to the internet. Mommy bloggers often take to raising their child on their own, without the help of a male figure.

The doctor: Not medically trained but well versed in medical jargon.  The doctor prides herself in diagnosing her children with illnesses that would otherwise be over looked by any trained medical professional.  The doctor has good health coverage and is on a first name basis with her chosen pediatrician and their respective staff, radiologist, pharmacist, and all other subsequent medical staff that tend to her child on a daily, weekly or monthly basis.  When diagnosing a woman as A Doctor, please take heed, there could be an underlying diagnosis of Munchausen by proxy.  Munchausen by proxy was brought to light by internationally acclaimed trailer trash, Eminem.

The feeder: Typically an emotionally detached mother who fills her children’s bellies with baked goods instead of their hearts with love.  These children will grow to be emotional eaters, go to college for art history and rack up $20,000 in debt on credit cards going to therapy and weight watchers.


Bloods or Crips?

I didn’t realized I lived in the hood until today.

I always kind of suspected it but it became clear today.

On my running trail there are a lot of loiterers. Typically I am the only white person out there. All jokes aside, I really am not racist.

No matter how many times I pass the same group of young males leering at me, I never get comfortable.

So today, on my run, I was rocking out to David Guetta (don’t judge me.  I dont judge you to your face, do not judge me) having a good time when I notice a young man on a bike.  I have my little wave and smile that says “I enjoy running from nothing” prepared when I notice that he is not sharing the path. So to accommodate i shift a little further to the right, hes on a bike and probably needs more room to move around than I do. He gets closer to my side of the path.  Then I realize that he is targeting me. He flys past me within 6 inches of my left arm and calls me a bitch.

Now keep in mind, I am not bothering anyone.  I was minding my own business on the right side of the path running along listening to bad dance music. I never did anything to him that would evoke such a reaction. In fact, I was overly accommodating.

Perhaps it was the way my shoes match oh, so perfectly to my iPod nano or maybe it was the kick ass kitten I have on my shirt that pissed him off. Or maybe it was the fact that my running shoes cost more than his bike, knock off ed hardy shirt and gold plated chain combined.  Ok, that was a little bitchy.  But it’s only actually bitchy if it isn’t true.

Since I had to come to a complete halt in order to save my own life I had to get back into my rhythm when I got back on the path. Going out I passed my neighbor.  His mom is missing teeth and his dad is very tall.  He calls his momma a “fucking bitch” in the parking lot. Coming back in i was tempted to ask if they saw the assailant. But then I realized…what would I say?

So I rehearsed in my head what I would say to this troubled young man.  Would I tell him that I forgot my anti-psychotics this morning and I will find his mother? Would I tell him that I understand he is upset because I am white but I cant help it and he needs to get over it? Would I use one of the sticks on the ground and whoop his little ass? Maybe I would treat him to a trip to Barnes and Noble where he could buy a book and educate himself on the proper way to share a bike path or the acceptable ways to address a woman in public? Or would i simply engage him in a staring contest because I would be too scared to actually say something.  So I practiced my evil eye behind my mirrored aviators the whole way back in.

Now that I have my look down, I hope we meet again but this time I will Tonya Harding his ass.

Adventures with ramen and Spanx

About a year and a half ago I found myself in a TJ Maxx at lunch time with a gift card to burn. I didn’t want to spend more than the $35 but I also didn’t want to have to come back to complete the $35 transaction.

My mother always says that you can never be too fat for purses and shoes.

I ended up in the handbag section of TJ Maxx.  If you have ever been there you know what I am talking about.  You can end up with a hand tooled, sacred cow leather bag that can hold your stuff, your kids stuff and make your breakfast or you can get a pleather pocketbook with sequins. I didn’t get the bentley of bags on this shopping trip. I ended up with a tommy hilfinger (knock off perhaps) for $25.00.

I had $10.00 left.  What to buy, what to buy…

I ended up in the sock department.  Who doesn’t need or love socks?

Then i see it, for $7.00, a box of Spanx.

For those of you who do not know what Spanx are, they are like girdles for your butt and thighs. Supposedly they move space, time, fat, muscle and bone to make you appear thinner in your jeans. And! Oprah likes them.  So who wouldn’t want to try some Spanx?

For those of you who read my last post about Mega Bra you might think I have a suction issue.  I assure you, I do not.

I check out with my new belongings and head back to the car.  I pop my bag in the trunk of my car and return to work.

Fast forward 18 months.

The other day I was cleaning out my truck and noticed my TJ Maxx bag.  I decided to bring it in and do something with my $35 worth of stuff.

I put the purse on my tree o’ purses in my closet and then I notice my Spanx.

I had just put ramen in the microwave for @jaredwsmith (we just like eating ramen noodles at midnight like we are college kids.  You smoke weed as an adult and we eat ramen as adults.  back off. ) and I head into the bedroom to make the bed and throw away the purses bag when I notice my little box of Spanx.

Figuring I had a few minutes, why not try them on?

I go to open the box and realize that these were on clearance. Now why would somebody put Spanx on clearance if they are so great? Oh yeah, because they have been opened before.

Normally it wouldn’t bother me however, it is my observation that Spanx are to be worn sans undies. Not for this girl, but for some.

I flip over the box to see what size they are.  Oh yeah, they are a size smaller than I should we wearing.

Some would turn back but not I.  I pulled out the pre-worn, too small, cootie covered flesh colored Spanx and sit down on the edge of the bed to put them on.

After figuring out how not to be tangled in them i finally got both feet in.  I then proceeded to learn three lessons:

First lesson: Spanx are not pants. Do not assume that because things have two tubes for legs that they behave like pants. you may put your feet in them and go to pull them up and you will feel pretty stupid with they snap back into position on your ankles.

Second lesson: they fight back. If you get them up your thighs that you are trying to conceal do not rest yet.  Those assholes will roll back down your thighs with such vigor that you will swear that you will have bruises the next day.

Third lesson: they are like Chinese finger traps for your legs.  If you happen to get the Spanx off your hefty thighs you have not completed the journey.  Due to their excessive length and elasticity you will end up on your back on the floor trying to untangle your feet.

At one point, I thought it would be funny to serve @jaredwsmith his nightly ramen feeding in my new Spanx but instead, I just wrote a blog.

Motherfucking Spanx

Your Mega Bra and You

So @jaredwsmith and I are getting married in…a number of days.  33 maybe? 32? something like that.  10/29/11. So today is the day I had to go in and get my dress altered.

Today marks the third (of four) times that I will be prompted to flash employees of David’s Bridal.

The first was when I was picking out my dress.  She must be familiar with girls’ girls because she helped me out of my dress.  She could smell my fear.  Because I love being in 4×4 rooms with strange women with tattoos on their boobs and and scary long fingernails topless. This was my first encounter with Mega Bra.

A few months later, I return to said Davids Bridal to purchase my very own Mega Bra to wear on mah day. I walked in and spoke to a woman who, very loudly, asked my bra size.  Listen, just because I have them and wear them everyday, im a little bashful about broadcasting my bra size to a crowded bridal salon. I was peaking into my purse to find a receipt or gum wrapper I could write my size down on to give to her but before I could even get through my bag she was measuring me. in the middle of where small-chested-girls try on their dresses. Once again, I was told to strip.  So again, here i am, in a Davids Bridal bare chested like Mel Gibson in Braveheart, in all my glory being groped by a woman whose job is feeling boobs everyday.

To make matters worse, it was August in Savannah, GA.  I was hot, red and sweaty. When I emerged from the 4×4 room I had sex hair and my shirt was rumpled like I had, in fact, engaged in making sex.

I collected my Mega Bra and paid for it. Walking out, I thought I had my cure for every dealing with this again.  All I would have to do for the fitting is put the Mega Bra on myself and then somebody would help me into my dress.  Problem solved.

Two days later, I am in my mothers bedroom at her house.  The moment of truth had come and it was time to put the whole getup on. I went into the bathroom to put on my Mega Bra.  Wouldn’t you know, my arms dont bend that way.

This would be the time to explain the Mega Bra.  A MB is a girdle. ok. fuck you.  its a fucking girdle. it is a spandex tube with boning in it to make my boobs look contained in a strapless manner.  I will have you know it does nothing. It covers what it needs to cover but thats about it. It safely adheres my liver to my spine though so I guess thats something.

I wiggle out of the bathroom in my underwear and the MB on the front of me.  I weep a little and ask my mom to fasten me.  There are 26 eyelets on this motherfucker. 15 minutes and two pairs of reading glasses, we got it on.  Granted, we were one off the whole way down, so I was a little lopsided but this was only a test.

Got the dress on, everything was fine. I had to hold the top of MB up so it didnt get stuck on the dress when I put it on (I have to go in UNDER the dress – i cant step into it).

So today came, I knew I would need some help getting all of my gear on to try out the dress and get it altered.

I arrive alarmingly early for my appointment.  I was put in a room that didn’t have a door but a small curtain that hardly closed and anytime anyone walked by it would flap in the wind.  Wonderful.

Shen comes in and tells me to take off my shirt. I didn’t even know her name at the time. She didnt buy me dinner or take me to a movie.  So I take off my t-shirt.  She then instructs me to take off my (PE) bra.  I turn around and try to keep my shit together and not flash anyone.  She hands me my MB and i put it on my front but not before I realize that while she is to my back, I am surrounded by 3 full-length mirrors. there are 3 sets of boobs staring at me. I am hoping nobody else saw my almost-transparent skin.  I am a tankini girl as most of you SHOULD be.  you know who you are.

Once I get the MB on, I am told I should have a slip.  So why not? lets just see how much more money I can spend at David’s Bridal. She returns with a partner this time and with said slip and before I even know whats next, she un-did my entire MB and it went flying off my body from sheer elasticity. Once again, I have flashed my Davids Bridal associate and her coworker. She gets me back into my MB and my new ($70) slip (that I will never.  ever. wear. again.).

Then, I have Shen, Davids Bridal Associate A and then Davids Bridal Associate B walks by at a brisk pace and my curtain goes flying. Nobody seems to care as they are putting me into my dress.  I think I am home free.  With one solid jerk of the dress to get it over my enormous slip, out pop my boobs.  I clearly wasn’t paying attention.

I put things back where they belong.  I dont make eye contact with anybody in or around Davids Bridal for the remainder of my visit.

The fitting goes swimmingly. We use words like train, bussle and “SQUEEEEE”.

Once the pinning is done, we head back into the 2nd circle of hell where Shen unzips and unhooks faster than a Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. But not without exposing yet another part of my body that is never to see daylight.  Thats right, my undies were taken down with the zipper of my slip.

She was gone before I could get a little snuggle.