*****

Meg Ryan Wanna Be is also being a snotty, high maintenance whore dog to the waitress. To MY waitress, who happens to be sweet and a good waitress, and working her ass off. Looks like the uptight, white bread, suburban bitch isn’t happy about her steak. It’s a fucking AIRPORT RESTAURANT, you twat. This isn’t The Mansion, Miss Priss-Ass.

*****

Ooh, now some wanna be hipster doofus douchebag is draining a beer (probably imported, and on tap) on the other side of the room. He is obviously watching me as I roll my yes about the Wonder Bread Bitch. In fact, he smirked earlier when another waitress asked me, “You like pepper, no?” after I had emptied half the pepper shaker on my roasted chicken. Ya think, sistah? But hipster? Needs to leave. I really must be allowed to sit in judgment and derision of this hateful woman without having an audience. Shoo, fly!

*****

So now Hard Working Waitress (or HW2 for short) comes out with the THIRD FUCKING STEAK this woman has requested be recooked for her. (I kid you not.) She places it down on the table and Prom Queen is now sending back her asparagus to have butter placed on it. No asking for some butter, no. No, I’d really like it if the chef sent me some clarified butter or perhaps some Hollandaise sauce for these, no.

As HW2 was walking past my table, I called HW2 over. “I thought maybe I’d send back my creamed spinach four or five times, okay?” She mumbled some oft-rehearsed, “It’s my job” blah blah blah. I thought it was funny and that she would laugh, but I see she is one of those employees you never want to lose: She loves her job, she takes the bad with the good, and she doesn’t take it personally. I hope this woman goes far in life. She handled all this and me (and my indecisiveness) with a HUGE smile on her face and no bitterness! I gave a huge tip despite the fact she could have had a comeback (which would have made my day!). Most of us need our jobs, I get it. But I would have loved to have heard what she wanted to say about that customer. Oh, and to watch her spill ice water down that bitch’s back.

*****

So I get home and try to watch my DVR recording of SVU and Hell-OH! It’s like the Weather Channel or some shit! (Seriously, my thoughts and prayers go out to those affected in any way by the tornadoes in Texas last night – love and hugs to you all!).

I watched the storms for a while, since I wasn’t here to hyperventilate about it on my own.

Hey, have you ever noticed that weathermen, um, weatherpeople, no wait, just weatherMEN, get all excited when the shit goes down in regards to bad weather? Kinda creepy.

I think the term “Hook echo” is like porn for weathermen.

*****

P.S. Met a beautiful and hilarious Irish lass in the bar next to my gate. What pisses me off is that I meet the coolest chicks when I have no way of hooking up with them to become friends. Bad timing. Sad, too, because I swear I snorted like three times talking to her!

Did you know that Tums turn foamy in your stomach? No? Well now you do. You’re welcome for that bit of knowledge. The research behind it? Sickening.

*****

Whoever keeps knocking on my door is about to get a handful of bitchy all up in their ass. It sounds like adults out there. I just don’t even go to the door now. Remember when you were a kid and you’d ring a doorbell then run? Karma, baby.

*****

I look up from my typing and see myself in the hotel room mirror. Damn, no wonder my hair chick got mad at me for cutting my own hair. She did her best to “fix” it but it really is jacked.

*****

I asked a bartender what kind of vodka he had once when I was out with friends. He named off a few and ended with Absolut. I told him, “Okay, I’ll have that.” He asked, “Absolut?” I replied, “Absolut-ly!” He wasn’t nearly as amused as I was.

*****

I was trying on my pants for the non-BF to see if I needed to get a larger size for this trip.
Him: What will you be wearing on top?
Me: A t-shirt.
Him: In or out?
Me: Oh hell, I would never tuck with the Food Baby lurking about my mid-section.
Him: You’ll be fine then.

Hey, I asked for honesty. But now I’m mad because I probably should have bought bigger pants. I think he just didn’t want me to go shopping. You know, with all this vomiting and other, ahem, “issues,” one would think I’d be a stick figure by now. Spanx you very much, it’s spandex time tomorrow!

*****

I wonder if alcohol would kill off whatever is wrong down there in my gutsy parts?

*****

Ooh, I still have time to order ice cream from room service! Gotta go!

I also look slightly crazy in 50 degree weather, wearing a cap sleeve cotton dress and sandals. I must look kinda cute, though, because this waiter whose section I wasn’t in came by to offer me a drink.

“Hey sailor, only if YOU are buying!”

*****

So I decide to treat myself and got a glass of wine with my appetizer. “Six ounces or nine ounces?” Like, why do they even ask that question??

*****

There is a group of guys in the bar adjacent to me, drinking beer and talking a bit too loudly. One of them is trying to tell a Dilbert cartoon. It’s painful. He should stick to computer programming or engineering or whatever geeky thing he does.

*****

When I ranted about beards yesterday, some are okay. It is mainly Guy Fieri’s DB beard that I hate. Oh and those long, scraggly ones that look like they belong on the set of Deliverance. (Cue banjos now.)

*****

I SWEAR TO GOD, I JUST HEARD A SHEEP BLEATING!!

******

I probably shouldn’t have ordered the appetizer. A) I barely ate a third of it and B) the flatbread got soggy, and C) I have a half of a rotisserie chicken coming. Oh, and D) I am already kinda full. Felt the need to explain to the waitress that I was starving because of my food poisoning and not eating for a few days.

Oh great. Indigestion. Fuck my stomach. Grrr.

*****

Oh! Now Not Funny Asian Guy is on a roll. Doing a great job there, bad-mouthing your co-workers! I don’t know how the others get a word in edgewise. I really should try to film this shit because now he is singing show tunes. I am NOT making this shit up. I think he needs another beer. Or maybe I need one so I’ll find him entertaining.

*****

Yeah, traveling for work is exhausting, but I always forget how many little gems I pick up, being solo and pretending not to listen. So much more to make fun of!

*****

They put me in a room near some meeting rooms. You think they’d make me leave if I stole a cookie off their catering table? I mean, they left them in the hallway and those cookies are just asking for it.

P.S. There may be some blogarreah going on tonight because I have this feeling I won’t be sleeping well. Don’t have my wine sippy-cup with me.

• I don’t get these immature motherfuckers on Facebook, all fighting and shit. I’ve seen so many of them in the past few weeks. Just wondering why they have so much time on their hands to pick on other people? And if that shit is put on you first? IGNORE THEM. Grow up, people. Grow the fuck up.
• That airline 24-hour web check in thing? I NEVER remember in time. Which is why I get stuck with seats at the back of the plane, and miss out on upgrading to first class. I need to set a fucking alarm.
• Oh my God – Guy Fieri, King of the Douche Bags – is yelling in my ear right now. NO, he is not in my house – well, not literally – but I tend to have Food Network or Cooking Channel on as background noise when I try to go to sleep at night. Shave that goddamned beard, please. Ugh.
• I would outlaw beards if I could. They are nasty beyond nasty.
• I should smack in the face anyone who tells me, “Oh! You’re so lucky to travel!” for work. Because why? Traveling for work is NOT glamorous. You are typically running to get to one place from the other. You don’t eat healthy foods. Sometimes you strain muscles in airports while trying your best to get to a connecting flight. Next time someone says that to me, I am going to force them to get up at four a.m., get ready (while they’re still asleep), go to the airport and eat a fake egg and cheese croissant that will later give them indigestion. Then I’ll burp egg breath in their faces. While talking incessantly because I see they are trying to work/study/rest/sleep. Because I can.
• Do y’all think I seem a bit cranky these days?
• Please, please, please, please, PLEASE God, don’t let me get seated next to a Stinky Person tomorrow!
• Wow, I think I got my Bitchy back in double doses. Awesome!

• I’ve already ordered: a ShamWow, some Ginsu Knives, a Shark Sonic Duo, a few Bumpits, some Wen for my Bumpit Fabulous Hair, two Hawaii Chairs (because one is just not enough), a Slap Chop and some Aspray. God help me.
• Too bad they didn’t name it Ass-Spray.  “It would be a lot cooler if you did.”
• Decided against the Tiddy Bear on principle alone. That is a fucked up name.
• I’m still debating on the Jaw Saw. That Fabio-esque leading man is sort of hot. In a weird, white trash, backwoods kind of way. But still.
• Will be going to the store for some over the counter sleeping meds later today. This cannot continue.
• I’m worried about these people with these freaking DIRTY floors on this Sonic infomercial. It looks like carcasses were left there to rot. “Now my daughter likes to go in her room again!” Of COURSE she didn’t want to set foot in it before, you mindless twat. It stank like death and even at 11, she realized the health implications of stepping on that messy ass floor.  It’s called CLEANING. You might want to try it once in a while.
• I am really thinking the Slap Chop was just another way for its inventor to masturbate. With vegetables. And have something to eat after.
• And the commercials in between the informercials? World Wildlife Fund, you have me crying about glaciers and all those poor polar bears.
• But I don’t see anyone fighting for the bi-polar bears. That’s just wrong. They need help, too!
• I love how this woman got all dressed up to cut limbs with her Jaw Saw. Real life: nasty sweats and a stained t-shirt, hair up in a ball cap and sweating from all the work. For once, I would like to see true Reality TV.
• “Oh my God, Grandma has a Jaw Saw! Run!”

More useful alternatives for infomercials?

• Let’s list all the missing children. Run their names and photos, last seen location, etc.
• Adoptable dogs, cats and other animals in high kill shelters.
• List of most wanted thuggy people. I bet some are living near you and you just don’t know it. Or near me. Or my cousin.
• Charities that REALLY help people (not just line their administrative pockets), ones that are hurting for funds.
• The Non-Girlfriend Fund. “Because Momma needs new shoes.”

Okay, I was kidding about that last one. I have way too many shoes already. (Ha, as if THAT is possible.)

P.S. “You know what? You can’t do this with a chain saw.” Well sweet baby Jesus and all that is bacon, I hope to God not.

Each Friday (well, each Friday I can remember to do so or when I’m not on a wine drip because I’m so fucking depressed), I am going to link to a few blog posts I really love. They may be new or from the archives. But these are the ones that either really got to me (in a good, emotional way), made me laugh so hard I hyperventilated until I passed out, or else made me stop and think.

For this week’s Favorite Friday, I give you:

Five Legs Between Us’ “A Little Early for Mother’s Day, But…” – Your mom and my mom should get together over cocktails some time.

She’s Back! – Hyperbole and a Half’s “Depression Part Two” – I’m there with ya. Glad to see you back!

Snarkfest’s “Tirade Tuesday…one day late” – Because I hate that Plastic-Faced Douchebag, too!

Whorrified’s “Rhianna and Chris Brown Are Over. Please God” – He IS seven different kinds of douchebag. However, I think they deserve each other.

Cerebral Milkshake’s “Brain Sneezes and Thought Babies” – Sounds like you and I had the same kind of April. And you are right, there is nothing funny about excessive napping.

And last, but certainly not least…

The Bloggess’ “Rules For Life” – She is, as always, brilliant.

Peace and shoes for now, bitches. I am SO ready for this weekend. I might even actually leave the house!

PS: Can that Kelsey chick be a bit perkier? I lose weight just by watching that bitch happily make food she probably never eats. What is UP with all these skinny chefs??

I think I may be over the depression hump now. The reason I say this is because I started taking notes on shit that pisses me off again. And notes on the random, weird thoughts that come to me at say, 15,000 feet in the air. NO, I can’t fly but I’m flying.

*****

Got seated (with a empty seat in between, yay!) next to a nice and pleasant, very normal looking lady. We chatted but once we took off, she didn’t feel the need to be my new best friend. Which is awesome, because I won’t be rude to the nice, normal, non-stinky ones. My luck is that I’m usually seated next to someone who doesn’t believe in bathing OR wearing deodorant, someone that coughs the entire time and doesn’t cover their mouth, and/or someone with dirt on their neck.

I’m not making that shit up. On one flight, I had the good fortune to be seated in the middle seat with a nice, normal guy who left me alone on one side, and Big Stinky With The Clod Of Dirt On His Neck Who Was Gunning For Becoming The Next Typhoid Mary. Okay, Typhoid Tom. Let’s just call him Stinky for short.  Because I sure as hell AIN’T gonna type that again. Too much turbulence!

The spasms of coughing and spewing his nasty funkiness into the air made me turn to give him the Stink Eye. That is when I saw it: mud was dried on his neck. Two rather good sized patches. Who fucking leaves the house like that?!

Of course, I check to see if he is wearing a ring and yep, that bad boy was married. I wondered why his wife let him leave looking like that.  Maybe she was so sick of his stinky ass that she didn’t want to waste any time pushing him out the door?

Oh, and there was the woman with only one foot who insisted on crossing her gimpy leg and letting her stump rest on my thigh. And I was wearing a mini skirt. Mind you, this was years ago, before I got over my foot phobia. Ick. I’d still be grossed out if that happened today, but I’m a bitch now, so I’m knock that stumpy shit off my leg! Fuck her feelings – I don’t need some stump funkness on me!

*****

Good GOD, this in-air wifi is so freaking SLOW! I know, first world problem, but hell, I spent ten whole dollars on the fucker and my 90 minutes will be up before I can even load the login page!!

*****

The woman across the aisle from me is boozing it up even more than I do on a flight.  She also has a real fur coat, so being the animal lover that I am, I “accidentally” squirted my ketchup in her direction.

I didn’t really. But I wanted to in the worst way possible.

P.S. I’ve never seen so much jewelry on one person before.

I was doing Favorite Fridays for a while but I’m sick today so you get it on a Wednesday so there.  This is my blog. I can do whatever I want. P.S.: I’d happily make it a real Friday for all of you but sadly, I do not possess that superpower. You’re welcome,  though.

I am totally LOVING this blog:  http://pmzee.com/

Updated: And somehow WordPress is jacking with my hyperlink. Grr.

• Diets are NOT working. I fucking give up!
• Joined a gym and got a trainer but I couldn’t work out because of my hurt foot. Until now.
• Haven’t really had anything to bitch about (well, except the diet not working). I think I need to get out of the house more so people can piss me off.  It’s messing with my creativity.

So yes, I am still here. I miss you readers. Hoping that upping the dosage of my Crazy Pills helps.  More to come…promise!

This stupid diet has me angry. A N G R Y.

So far today…

• I read today that for the first two weeks of this diet, I cannot have ANY alcohol.  Not even no-carb alcohol like vodka. Or gin. Or fizzy gin drinks. Um, okay. Scratch that shit and start over again. Fuck me running.
• Was chewing on my thumb in contemplation this afternoon. Then I found myself Googling “How many calories in a cuticle?” I’m officially obsessed.
• You know it’s BAD when your dogs’ Beggin’ Strips start smelling good to you.
• Treated myself to dinner out tonight instead of boring broccoli and grilled chicken or fish at home. So what the hell do I have? Mixed greens with grilled chicken.  No croutons. Only a sad and tiny slice of whole wheat bread. I cried just a little.
• I’ve started calling my one allowed cinnamon Altoid “dessert.”
• Wrote a crazy blog post last night that sounded like I was high on crack and feeling bugs crawl under my skin. Promptly deleted it this morning and had to check if I had ordered Godiva chocolates in my no-carb-induced-haze. Or three Kate Spade bags. I probably would have eaten all of them when they arrived if I had actually ordered them.
• I smell bread everywhere I go.  And cake.  And I don’t even LIKE cake all that much.
• When I am having conversations with strangers in stores, et cetera (and yeah, I do that on a regular basis), I find myself asking them, “Were you just looking at my gut? Were you?” I also do that with loved ones.  The loved ones tend NOT to walk away after I’ve asked that question – they run.  The strangers are a little more polite about it.
• Absolute WORST part of it all?  I haven’t lost a single fucking pound. Shoot me now, please.