i’m gonna put it out there; if you like it, you can take it…

It’s true. I am popular. The minute I type these words I know I hex my likeable-ness and this time next week I will split the ass of my pants open at a fancy restaurant and have hateful eyes all laughing at me as my Visa card audibly gets declined with a loud BLEEP! in front of them all. But what can I say? It’s true in The Now.

My popularity will hopefully increase the more I pull my shit together. Because let’s face it, I have a lot that isn’t going for me these days. For one, my organizational skills are not where they need to be to keep my Queen Bee status. Now, I never want to be the type of person who has so many friends they flake on engagements they commit to, and I am painfully close to that place. I am faltering in large part because my computer calendar is not up to speed (fuck you Tiger OS and all the upgrade implies for Casa Del Hogaboom!) and I simply can’t keep more than 12 things in my head at any time, and at present six of those things are Anchorman quotes. So, for all of you whose calls and emails I do return and whose events I do show up on time for – know that it is a Sisyphean effort for me these days and it means I care about you very much.

Another huge check in the “Loser” category for me is that I am, for lack of a better term, a little slattern – mostly in the clothes department but also extending to hair and makeup factions. Usually I am wearing pants that have rips in the crotch, plain cotton socks with holes in the toes (always fun at a shoeless house), my they-were-cool-in-the-nineties Doc Martins (the only brand of shoes I own besides my fabulous Frye boots which have been made fun of for their 70’s square-toed nature), and some too-tight Goodwill t-shirt. Must I continue? I do shower and launder daily and I try to make sure my ass crack doesn’t show (no guarantees, though). That’s as good as it gets for now. I’m not even going to go into the hair or makeup department except to say I now eschew scrunchies thanks to a recent catty remark from a friend of mine who shall not be named (thanks, Steph!). To be fair, she was knocking scrunchies in general, not I, and I haven’t worn one since (maybe she’s the Queen Bee, after all!).

Since I like things in groups of three, the third and last thing about myself I will identify as off-putting is my brash and occasionally foul mouth. To my credit, I can keep a civil tongue in my head and do in fact do just that for church and other social occasions where I know it will not be appreciated. But you know, I don’t try that hard to be other than who I am verbally. It’s a way to self-select those who might appreciate me. At any rate, along with my vitriol comes an eloquence that extends, I like to think, even beyond quotes from Will Ferrell movies. Or so I hope.

In related news, as pertains to one’s social calendar, I am on Day 3 of a 4-parties-in-4-days bender. Lest you think I have some kind of partying awesomeness that gets me through 96 hours of heady debauchery I will point out two of the gatherings were / are birthdays for 2 year olds and one of them was a baby shower. So you know – a limited amount of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. In addition, last night I was also out with a girlfriend at a play (fabulously done by our local Paradise Theatre School) and got in at 11.

So, I feel like I’ve barely been home, barely been around the kids, and barely tuned into Ralph. Since Friday the time I have been home has consisted of cooking, cleaning, or sewing like mad. Luckily, my daughter’s nap-skipping proclivities are helping an early bedtime for both kids and some reconnection with my husband. Speaking of, I believe he just returned home with a movie – time to take my lovable self upstairs for a little couchtime snuggle and (hopefully) makeout.

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