Adam hates my spending. He says I bring us down all the time with the way I shop too much and get too many traffic tickets. I didn’t help my case when I applied for a credit card one morning and got a traffic ticket that afternoon. I kid you not. I carried around these two things for weeks before I actually told Adam. I found the courage to say something on the day he was going out gambling with his brother. As he kissed me goodbye, I asked him how much money he was bringing with him to AC. I didn’t care about this at all really, I just needed his total to sound like a lot of money so that when I would tell him about the $500 in charges between my ticket and my new credit card with purchases already on it -- it wouldn’t piss him off completely. He told me he was bringing half-a-grand and turned to walk out the door. Bad at math it took a sec for me to realize we had equal spends! As he pulled the door closed behind him I yelled “I got pulled over and applied for a credit card and put a couple of bucks on it already.” The door whooshed back open and he popped his head in “what did you just say?” I quickly replied - “oh nothing…I’ll tell you later. Go have fun! Hurry! Your brother is waiting for you.” He left still unaware and I felt better knowing I had admitted my two offenses. I can’t help that he hadn't heard me – the big secret was off my small chest. I’ll deal with him seeing the credit card statement and the car insurance bill inflate later -for now, I was hoping he’d win big.
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Adam and I are very outgoing people. We could make friends practically anywhere, anytime. So it is not a surprise that after a few beers, we were extra friendly with a new bartender at our local watering hole. After a night of what we think is bonding with her (you know, getting drunk - professing love, finding strange things in common and making future plans for a vacation together that we know we'll never take), we were happy to see her working when we showed up at the bar again the next weekend. Adam pointed over to her and said “I remember her – we did shots together last time.” I smiled saying, “I remember her too. I bought shoes with her!” Which meant that after many drinks, I leaned over the bar, all sloppy and slurry, and asked her opinion about a cool pair of heels from an online shoe boutique. Of course I then proceeded to buy the pair in three colors while in a drunken stupor. Adam just looked at me and said – “you are the only person I know who buys shoes online in a bar, and with the bartender no less.” I opted not to bring up that while I was at the dentist last week, I had the dental assistant help me pick out a few sweaters from Kohl’s online as we waited for the Novocain to take effect.
When Adam and I do anything – we are intense. Love, fight, games, gambling, drinking, eating, shopping….whatever. So when Adam tells people that I once tried to kill him with a butter knife, no one totally freaks out. Plus he is still standing there telling the story in one piece, right? I guess it also helps that he tells people this while he comically calls me crazy. And I playfully interject with a reminder that it was hardly threatening since it was the dull side of the utensil. I also apologize saying that I was very young and very into “Melrose Place” at the time and so I was drawn to drama. We are a sick two that we actually tell this story to people and make light of us. But I guess it’s not so bad – I mean, you can barely cut a dinner roll with a butter knife. Ever struggle with that? Anyway – he should just stop bringing it up and maybe replace the silverware with some plastic. That would so be a win-win!! He gets to live and I get out of dish duty! Yesssssss!
Email can be very, very dangerous. I mean, you send the wrong thing to the wrong person and there could be real trouble. And in case you didn’t know, the “recall message” button does NOT work and the original email is still out there.
I learned this the hard way when I had thought I sent an email to a good friend at work when in actuality, I sent it to an employee that worked in an office several states away and knew me as just a name on a conference call roster. After receiving this virtual joke, he would have no idea that I was not really some sort of pervert. In all honestly, I don’t know why I didn’t think better of using my work computer to send out a digital cartoon of the Tin Man doing fresh things with an oil can. As I chuckled while hitting send, my laughter turned into actual fear when I realized what I had done. I hit recall, and in a state of panic, I Googled how to retrieve messages sent out in error. There were no options! (Why aren’t there options?! Aggghhhh! I can’t be the first person to do this type of thing!) I went into the weekend sickened over the mistake. I was certain I would come back on Monday only to be told I was never working there again. Luckily it was quite the opposite and the recipient also thought the joke was funny. Oh thank God, this guy had a sense of humor…and a heart (how very Tin Man-y). Months later, I made a mistake of sharing the “Tin Man” with the wrong person again (mental head slap! What the hell is my problem?!). But this time, I didn’t send the actual comic, I just mentioned the story in an email that I was sending to a recruiter. After a few glasses of wine, bringing up the old Tin Man incident seemed appropriate as we had already had several email exchanges and light banter about the pitfalls of email. I know. I know. As I write this, while now sober, I cringe. Drinking while emailing someone for a job? Glorifying that someone made a character from a children’s story into a sexed-up sicko? Not my smartest move. Needless to say I didn’t get a call back for any job from that guy. Such a Scarecrow move on my part - I think I need a brain! I was an angel this year for Halloween. This didn’t stop me from cursing, drinking and telling totally inappropriate stories at a party. From too much of all those good things, at the end of the night, I stumbled into the house with my heels in my hand and knocking my wings crooked. My extensions had gone lack luster and my red lipstick that I reapplied within the last half hour of the party, had somehow gotten smeared on my face. I was a hot mess. Just as I went to walk up the stairs to head to bed, it was obvious I wasn’t going to make it. I ran to the bathroom, hugged the bowl and made a deal with God to let me live. In exchange for this, I swore I’d never drink again and I would be a much better human being. I couldn’t imagine what God was thinking as he looked down at me – a drunken angel woman, hugging the bowl and barfing while of course wearing my halo the entire time. Hardly heavenly….
For Ella’s first Halloween, she was 10-months-old and a Tootsie Roll. I thought it would be cute to have her help me “hand out” the candy to the treaters, which basically meant, I propped her up on the chair and put a plastic pumpkin full of – guess?!- Tootsie Rolls next to her. Now that I think about that though, was that cruel? I mean I dressed her in the Tootsie Roll costume and made her hand out Tootsie Rolls and she was eating them! Ahh! Is that like sweet cannibalism?!
The kids we're in a mood the other day when we were running errands. And not the fun kind of errands - cleaners, Shop Rite, liquor store. My attempts to make it fun by writing all the stops on the car windows in erasable marker, weren't helping either (but yay for me with a "cool mom" idea! Or so I thought anyway). In and out of the car, in and out - the girls were growing impatient and irritable with each stop. As we pulled into the CVS drive-through to get prescriptions - as we do about every 3 weeks - Vanessa whined "why do we always have to come to CVS?" I casually replied "because mommy needs her crazy pills. We don't want Mommy to go nutty, do we?" The way they both replied "No" so quickly and in unison, it made me wonder how much of a "dragon mommy" I really become when I am stressed, sad, pushed to the edge or worse - forced to hang out with my family while sober. Better take this next dose with a swig from the double bottle of Pinot I just bought. Hmmm....Nicely planned pick-ups, if I do say so myself.
Our girls are little on the heavier side. Or as I fondly say – “healthier”. It’s not their fault, they are Marino’s and we are all good sized people. Not only genes, but generous eating habits have played a role in this fact as well. When the school nurse sent home a note saying that our girls were each overweight and that we needed to watch their diet and read up on childhood obesity, I was bothered by it but knew she was right. She indicated on her note that we were to sign it to acknowledge receipt (OK so now I was kinda feeling like she wanted us to admit we were derelicts but I was ready to ink my name). I was still holding a black ballpoint pen when Adam pulled the note out of my hand, took a red pen instead and scribbled things like “fuck off, stay out of our business and watch your own weight…”. I stood there holding the aggressive note with my mouth open and sweating. I had to give this back! Our kids had to continue to go to this school for several more years! It took me nearly 20 minutes to white out his rant, photocopy it so you couldn’t tell I used white out and rewrite that we would take her advice and then sign my name. I wanted to write – “help me - my husband is insane” in code but opted to spare our family from being fat, bat-shit crazy and candidates for anger-management. No need to get another note about that!
For years I have wanted breast implants and for years Adam has wanted Lasik. Not willing to splurge on both, we realize we’d have to choose between the two procedures. Women in the office were talking about dieting and pooping.....in mixed company. (!!!!!!!) I wanted to die. Look, as you may have noticed, I will talk about anything - vaginas, yeast infections, cunnilingus or more - to any guy or gal, any time. But anything that comes out of a woman's ass (farts, poo, etc.) should really be off limits around the opposite sex (I actually just cringed while writing those gross butt words!). Girls are supposed to be pretty and flowery for the most part! And it's really bad conversation material -- all bad mental images, all bad jokes, all bad smells. (Gagging!) Just ALL bad. Seeeeee...I do have standards and a sense of etiquette. Who would've thought?!
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