Friday, November 27, 2009

Resume, Its Ready

Dear Oprah,
Attached please find my resume.  I am applying for the position of Talk Show Host, now that you have decided to retire.  I think you will find that I am highly qualified.  I have absolutely no some experience and a barely there fantastic work ethic.  I have been entertaining friends my whole life and I am very confident that I would be a great Oprah.

Thank you for your consideration,

Resume of a Highly Qualified Soon-To-Be Talk Show Host

Morgan U
The Sticks, VT 55555
I cant Give you my phone number because I dropped it in the toilet like 6 months ago and am too lazy busy to replace it.

Objective:  To take over where Oprah left off, and make a bazillion dollars so that I can wear fabulous clothes, go on exotic vacations and finish my house, oh and to fulfill my dream of fame becoming a world renound talk show host.

Experience:  I have been entertaining friends, family, and and strangers that accidentally have come across my blog and for some reason have become loyal fans for years.  I don't have much experience with celebrities, but there was a time when Marselis Parsons (our local channel 3 news guy) rescued me from the middle of the lake when pretty much hubbys boat broke down.  I think my dad has a relative that was in a movie too, Ill find out.  Currently, I work as an Executive Assistant which by no means prepares me for being a talk show host, but has inspired me to want my own assistant, which I could afford should Oprahs job be awarded to me.  I am not good at being poor, however, I have all confidence in myself that I would make a great millionaire.

Skills,Accomplishments and Stuff You Should Know:
In high school, I could funnell more beers than any other girl and most of the boys...thank you.
I was Pumpkin Princess in High School, which proves that I am well liked, or was 10 years ago.
I had a 26 hour labor and an 8.5 lb baby with no drugs which shows that I am stupid tough and can handle anything that comes my way.
I love gay men, and alot of them watch your show.  Oh, and gay men love me too!
I can't balance a check book, but with your amount of moola, who needs to?
I am very good at talking, and I think that Dr. Phil and I will get along great, oh and Robin, I cant wait to meet her!
You can keep Gail.  I have my own friends, and like Gail they will be selfless enough to quit there jobs and move to Chicago to happily live off of me.
I love to give away gifts, but I can never afford them, so giving away cars and houses and lypo suction will be new for me, but I think it is a skill that I could learn.
I promise not to be as annoying as Kelly Ripa.
Tom Cruise can jump on my couch anytime he wants.

The Bottom Line:
Oprah, heres the thing.  I need this job.  If you give me this opportunity I swear I wll do a really good job.  There are a few things that I might change though.  Like, with your amount of money, why have the show everyday?  I am going to make it a once a week occurance so that most days I can lay in bed in my new mansion eating sushi and blogging.  Also, I think that I will take summers off.  People shouldn't be inside watching TV in the summer anyway.  I am also going to serve wine to all my studio audience so that I dont feel bad drinking it alone while filming.  Im also going to do away with the magazine, the book club and the school in Africa because with all that I wont have time to rent luxury yachts and party on them with my friends.
The Bottom line is this miss Winfrey, I am the right girl for your job.  Thank you for considering me.  Could you please get back to me ASAP bcause if I dont get this one, I am thinking about offing Ellen.


Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Thanks Indians and Pilgrims

It is that time of year that we gather as families, stuff our faces, and share what we are thankful for. I would like to let you all know what I am thankful for since most of what I am thankful for is not appropriate to share at the table in front of my pretty much in-laws. So here is what I am thankful for in 2009:

1. I can’t believe I am saying this, but I am thankful for The Wiggles. The Wiggles transform my usually hyper child into a zombie- thus allowing me time to drink, blog, facebook get chores done.

2. Tinted windows in my vehicle- so that no one can see how filthy my car is. Also, no one can see when I leave my toddler in the back seat all by himself to quickly run into the mobile station for coffee (OMG she doesn’t really do that, does she?).

3. My cleaning lady- for drastically reducing the amount of fighting with me and PMH. Now, when I see smelly socks in the creases of the couch, I take a deep breath and count the days until Friday.

4. Spanx- need I say more?

5. Living in a small town- because in a small town I am a hottie. Move me to LA and I am the frumpy mother of a two year old that drinks too much and over does the messy pony tail look.

6. I am thankful for Bronzer. Without my faux glow- my over indulgent lifestyle is far too evident. I often see out dated women- you know the ones with perms and bangs and long nails and high wasted jeans and I think OMG, don’t they know how out dated they are. And then I remember that Bronzer will not always be in style, and I face the fact that when that day comes, I will be out dated because pale skin and dark circles is not a good look for me.

7. My family (finally, I thought she was going to totally forget her son!). My PMH and son and our cat are an odd little bunch, but we are a family, and I love them. My father, stepmother, sister, half sister, half brother, step sisters, step brother, brother in law and my pretty much mom and her kids- thanks for ensuring that it take me over an hour to answer the question- do you have any brothers and sisters?

8. My girlfriends for making me feel like I am not the only alcoholic  social drinker on the block- thanks girls!

9. I am thankful for my blog readers, for laughing at me when I have yet again a blonde moment, and for telling me that my down falls make your days better.

10. Thank god for the good and buzzed good ole boys that come into the bar when I am working and make me feel like a hot piece of you know what, even when that you know what is a little bigger and closer to the ground than it was last year.

There are many things that I am thankful for, but the rest of them I should be able to share at the Table.

Thursday, November 12, 2009


My day started with a dilema...never a good start. I woke up at 7:20 and I had to go to the bathroom...the dilema? I don't have to get up until 7:25. Whats a girl to do? Do I lay in my warm and cozy bed for five more minutes with one eye open while watching the clock- half praying that the time will go by fast so that I can relieve the uncomfortable pressure on my bladder and half begging for the five minutes to drag out slowly so that I dont have to get out of bed and start another day so soon. I better make up my mind quickly, because after all I only have 4 minutes left to decide and I dont want to waste any of that time actually thinking when I could be peeing or laying staring at the clock. I decide to pee, as I only have 3 minutes left and I csnt lay still or I will wet the bed, I do however let myself close my eyes during the process- half peeing- half sleeping, and not getting off of the throne until 7:25- because that is the time that I wake up. Not 7:20- no that is way to early.
The problem is that I will feel cheated all day. I am owed three more minutes of sleep. I will later feel like I deserve a treat for having been forced to sacrifice sleep. I will reward myself most likely with some form or other of an alcoholic beverage. I will decide that I dont have to count the two weight watchers points that make up my liquid reward, because clearly I burned more calories today, being that I woke up early.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Pretty Much Wife Swap

As you may or may not know, I tend bar at a local watering hole once a week. I have been there for 5(?) years. I started out bartending to make extra money for shoes and booze, and then when Little Man came along my extra money started going toward diapers and noodles (all he eats). I love where I work. I get the same crowd every week and they have become like my Thursday night family.
For the last year or so, two young couples have been coming in like clockwork. The husbands sit together and drink too much beer while the wives chit chat about work and Survivor. They are some of my favorite customers.
Last night, one of the wives D was complaining about her too neat husband. Apparently, he does not greet her at the door until he finishes cleaning their room. I nearly fell off of my three inch heal. To hear a woman complaining about how her husband is obsessed with windex and swiffers, was like hearing a celebrity complain about getting special was unjust, is what it was.
I told her that I wanted to kill her and steal him, and then I remembered that I actually do love my slovenly Pretty Much Hubby, I just didn't love his content in living in animal like surroundings. So I suggested a wife (or in my case a Pretty Much Wife) swap. It would be perfect, I would sit in their immaculate living room, watching Survivor, while her hubby cleaned around me. There would be no picking up of flung noodles, no nagging about ice cream bowls left on the coffee table and jeans in the dining room (he actually leaves pants on the floor of the dining room, I **** you not!), I would be left in peace..peace that smells like pinesol and Glade.
D on the other hand would be thrown into a world with no resemblance to the tidy world she is used to. It would have to be a tuesday, so that the hard work that the cleaning lady did on Friday would be a thing of the past. She would remove the toys and tools from the couch to try and sit and watch Survivor. Little Man would not be impressed with her lack of interest in him and would climb on her lap, head, right in front of her view of the TV. He would demand that she read the same book, 15 times. Pretty Much Hubby would come home and take off his work clothes and leave them in a heap on the dining room floor. He would see that she really wasn't watching Survivor (because she is reading the monkey book) and he would change it to the Discovery Channell to watch Ice Road Truckers. At the commercial he would take his socks off and drop them next to the recliner. D would decide that feeding Little Man might distract him enough so that she could check her email, as she gets up from the couch PMH would ask her for a bowl of ice cream that he will later put on the dining room table on his way to the shower where he will use up all the hot water and leave his towel on the floor.
In the meantime, I will ask D's hubby if we can just get take out, because I am not in the mood for cooking. He will gladly agree, offer to pick it up and will stop and buy me a bottle of wine on the way home. We will decide to stay in for the night because of the Rock of Love Marathon on VHI. We will eat take out- that her Husband will put on nice plates for us. He will then clean my plate so that I don't miss the Chick fight that is about to happen in Brett Michaels tour bus.
D will realise that my PMH and Little man have gone to bed. She will look around her and for a second she will think that she has traded places with a house mother at a fraternity house. She will spend an hour cleaning up the frat house, so that she won't have to do it in the morning (yeah right!). At this point the only thing that is on TV is an episode of CSI Miami and the second David Caruso comes on the screen she will pick up a smelly sock off of the floor and throw it at his head, because at 11pm, while cleaning someone elses mess, his acting skills are enough to ensure her a slot on the next episode of Snapped.
All the while, I will go to bed in the hotel like guest room, where her hubby will have placed a chocolate on my pillow. I will not eat the chocolate because I drank my extra weight watchers points for the week, but I will smile at the gesture and turn in. I will sleep 10 hours, without interuptions.
D will get out of bed three times to refill Sippy cup. On her way to the kitchen she will trip on the John Deer tractor sitting on the kitchen floor. She will open the fridge to get the milk and not be able to find it because my PMH will have left it on the counter. She will curse my life and beg for her anal retentive husband back, and I will have to reluctantly give him back.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Harrassing Blog Readers

So I am truly honored that a few of you readers have taken it upon yourselves to hound me when I have not blogged in a week. I know, I promised more and last week I blogged alot. The thing is that nothing really exciting or blog-worthy has happened lately.
I mean I could tell you about how I dressed as a German Beer Wench for Halloween and partied like there was no tomorrow all the while pretending that my name was Inga. I could tell tell you that I danced up a storm in actual good for your feet shoes (beer wench clogs) and still woke up with sore knees because I am:
a)out of shape and
b) getting old.
But that is not a full blog.
Maybe I should tell you that I have officially mastered the art of mooching- and ended my busy monday with a free facial, but unless you want to hear how I have combination skin and out of whack hormones then again, I got nothing.
If you want me to go on and on about how wonderful my son is one second and how terribly two he is the next, then I will, but I feel as if I have overdone that and you might make a call to child protective services if I over do it.
Most of you seemed to enjoy my diet blog..uhh humm..well my update on that is that I started Weight Watchers and have lost 5 lbs...I am starting to feel sexy again and I just might allow Honey to keep the lights on...if he throws a blanket over the shade and promises not to stare. But my belly is not rumbling, my thighs are thinner and that's all there is too it. Diet blogs are way more humorous when Hungry Hippo can't put down the pizza.
Often times I tell you all about my love affair with booze, but isn't that getting old. I mean, it is winter so I have switched to red...not funny, unless I post a picture of myself with red wine lips..kinda funny, kinda scary. Also, I care about what you blog readers think about me, and as true as it might be, I dont want you to think of me as an alcoholic (I prefer wino). The last thing I need is to show up at what I think is a party and have it be an intervention...unless maybe it was the intervention that is to be televised with Dr Drew and then, just maybe if I am having a good hair day, I will forgive you.
I could tell you that I am bored at work and that my coworkers are lame, but actually that is not the case. I am most content in my job- besides the fact that I have to get up before noon to get there and that I have to be there 40 hours a week...I think 15 hrs would suffice..maybe 10.
I could even go back to trashing Pretty Much Husband for his lack of cleanliness and motivation, but now that I have a cleaning lady, and a working washing machine, not too much there. Although, I still have to remind him that we have a dishwasher, show him where it is and beat him when he doesn't get it right and puts his dishes on our bedside table.
I have thought it would be a funny blog to clean out my car and fill you in on all of the crap that I found in it, but that would intail cleaning out my car, and honestly- not going to happen.
Oh, I just remembered something that you will most likely chuckle at (if you don't give me a break, I am struggling here). I have been washing machine-less for the last year. Actually, I have been under the impression that my washing machine was broken for the last year. After laundromat trips, mooching off of others with washing machine capabilities and breaking my parents machine, I decided that I would plug in my washer and give it another try. It worked..just fine. You see the reason that it had stopped mid cycle about 365 days ago was that I set it on small load and then filled it like a clown car..apparently when you have to sit on the machine to get all the clothes in it- that is considered a LARGE load. Apparently, (ask my dads dead machine) washing machines don't like to be treated like Hot Dog Eating Competitors (was that a strech or what).
That's all I got folks. I am sorry to let you down. I will try extra hard to get myself in to more situations inwhich you can laugh with (at) me. I would do that for blog fans! I love you all!