Author Archives: Rhonda

“WTF?” Wednesday

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I don’t know WTF is going on in my life, but everywhere I turn lately, someone is speaking to me in a condescending tone. Clearly this is a peek into my future — and probably what senior citizens feel like when they are being treated like children — and I am not enjoying it.

For example, Bar 1400 has these signs hanging in every bathroom stall. The bathroom manager was either a kindergarten teacher or a technical writer in his/her previous career. Just an FYI – anyone who is old enough to be in a bar probably knows how to use a effing toilet seat cover. I don’t need tone in the toilet. Especially not when I am buzzed — it pisses me off. No pun intended.


Even my four year old has tone recently. Last week I came home from work and she was standing at the door waiting for me:

Anabella: HI MOMMY!

Me: Hey baby. I missed you! How was your day?

Anabella: You forgot to pack my ballerina clothes.

Me: Oh no. I am so sorry, Anabella. I promise to remember next time.

Anabella: That’s okay, mommy. Accidents happen. (pauses) But you need to focus. (turns and leaves)

I just stood there completely dumbfounded. Then, in my head, the tirade began …“WHAT? I need to focus? Ummm, okay, kid. Clearly you have no idea who does everything in your life. This happy little family train you ride on would have derailed a long time ago if it wasn’t for me.”

Dan smiled and said something about how cute she was. I flipped him off and went straight to the bathtub.

The very next day, I call Ticketmaster to buy tickets for the Black Eyed Peas. (I’m on a rodeo committee this year, so we had the chance to buy before they went on sale to the public.) It quickly became clear that finding four seats wasn’t going to happen …

Ticketmaster douche: The Black Eyed Peas are a very popular group, ma’am.

Me: Yes, I know. Which is why I was hoping to get tickets …

Ticketmaster douche: (clearly not listening to me) … they are a hip-hop, R&B group. They have a lot of hit songs. They are very popular.

Me: I KNOW who they are. Why do you think I am calling for tickets?

Ticketmaster douche: Oh. Well then you shouldn’t be surprised that they are sold out.

Me: These tickets aren’t on sale to the public yet, so why wouldn’t I think there might be some left?

silence…

Me: Good thing I am taking that survey at the end of this call.

Happy 2010!

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Ahhh, it’s over. Fun, but exhausting sums up our holiday experience.

Christmas 2009 — in numbers:

1 – Days I’ve been at work since 12/18 (two half-days)
2 – Movies seen (Avatar and Up in the Air — both good!)
3 – Presents I bought for myself
4 – Number of days I had to shop for all of my gifts
5 – Play dates Anabella had last week (good thing we like the same people)
6 – Bags of trash at curb on 12/26 (sorry, environment!)

20+ – Times Anabella took something away from Scarlett the two weeks I was at home
1 – Times Scarlett bit Anabella on the BUTT for doing it (on Christmas day no less)


P.S. Did you notice the new blog banner? I think it’s funny, but one of my coworkers (and the guy who drew the coffee mug) says it’s disgusting. Thoughts?

“What the f*ck?” — Christmas gift edition

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I have spent the last three days in malls and stores across Houston (because I hadn’t done jack crap to prepare for Christmas until last Saturday and this is how I like to punish myself) and have seen some redonkulous stuff passing itself off as Christmas gifts. Here are just a few of those “WTF is this?” gifts:

This thing was huge. Look how tiny the disposable cameras are in comparison. If you need a remote this big, well, can you really even see the TV anymore?


No. This is just wrong. Period.

I know some people are really hard to buy for, but give me a break. Get a gift card.


Gross. Would anyone ever touch the “butt” side now that it is clearly labeled?

I can really only think of one person that this is appropriate for — and Jesus isn’t into bling.

“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

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For the past few months something weird has been going on with the electricity in the front of our house. The breaker would flip off, we would flip it back on, it would stay put for a few minutes, and then it would flip off again — sometimes with a spark coming from one of the electrical sockets. Dan and I know nothing about electricity, so we started living without a front porch light, stairway light and any electricity at all on one side of my office. (And yes, the spark should have prompted us to call someone immediately, but we aren’t scared!)

Finally, a friend (who also happens to be an electrician) came by to check it out. Thankfully (because I don’t enjoy looking totally stupid), he was also stumped and started to do some investigating. He figured out that the problem was starting with the small night lights installed on the stairway.

He took off the cover and this is what he found …

Thanks right, folks. Someone was using the night light as a PIGGY BANK. WTF, Firestarter … I mean, Anabella? Sure, throw some coins into an electrical outlet. I’m sure that won’t be a problem.

The yellow arrows are pointing to the places where two of the coins had almost fused together from the sparks/fire/whatever was going on each time we tried to turn the breaker back on.

Between the poop and the cussing and now the electricity stunt, Anabella is going to make me old and gray long before my 40th birthday.


— The B.S. Cafe is now serving a big helping of Big Brother. I am watching you, Anabella!

“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

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I was almost rear-ended twice coming back from lunch on Monday. And I’m not talking about someone tailgating or coming to a stop too close. It was two tire-screeching, head-turning, near misses in less than five minutes … by the same car.

Of course that pissed me off to no end, so when the guy pulled beside me as I headed into the left-turn lane, I prepared my best evil eye. I just wish my iPhone had a telephoto lens, because then you could see that the man in this photo was so captivated by the thumbnails on the back of the PORNO he was holding, that he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to me or the road.

Nothing wrong with a good video, but do we need to study it while driving on a crazy-busy road, during the middle of the day, with our window down so that everyone gets a good look, and nearly killing our fellow drivers in the process? He is truly lucky that I don’t own a Hummer any more because I was that close to just ramming into him.

WTF are these people doing?

Tailgating in the mall parking lot?


Watching an analog TV in their car?

I’ve been cheating on you, Blogger.

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A lot has changed for me at work recently, including the addition of social media into my job function. Of course, I am totally psyched about that, but it also means I have been spending lots of my free time doing stuff besides blogging. Reading up on social media, taking webinars, going to conferences, tweeting, visiting fan pages, etc. Last month I attended a conference at the Houston Zoo and sat next to the guy who created this at lunch:


Remember this quiz we all took back in August? Matthew Inman, the man behind the awesomeness, gave me the back story. Apparently, he created the quiz for a client that sold sex toys. When the client saw the quiz, they thought it was “inappropriate.” LOL! Ummm, okay. Anyway, he was a really interesting guy … smart and YOUNG, so I was inspired. Too bad I can’t draw or code … I would totally rock at creating quizzes.

So here is our latest time waster … picked especially for Kim, since she enjoys talking about balls.

Clearly I won’t be picking a fight with a bear any time in the immediate future.

How long could you survive after punching a bear in the balls?

Created by Oatmeal

“What the f*ck?” Wednesday

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It’s official. Anabella and I are in the bribery stage of our relationship.


It started out slow enough … some mini-M&Ms while I brushed the tangles out of her hair (her hair gets crazy tangled — she probably deserves a cocktail, but that would be wrong) and the occasional chocolate milk here and there.

But today, it was full on blackmail, thanks mainly to SpongeBob SquarePants.

Anabella is completely enamored with SBSP. The problem is that SBSP is on Nickelodeon, instead of our usual Noggin. Noggin is commercial-free. Nickelodeon is non-stop commercials for every stupid toy and sugary snack ever made. For the past week, they have been advertising Moxy Girls (WTF is a Moxy Girl?) during every episode.

So this morning, I needed to keep Anabella home from preschool due to a scheduling conflict. And of course, she was really pissed about that and went into full meltdown mode as I was trying to get out the door.

I foolishly and selflessly thought about our poor nanny and how her day was going to go, and said to Anabella “if you are good for Ana today, and play nicely with Scarlett, I will bring you home a surprise.” (thinking stickers or something silly)

As she wipes a tear from her cheek, she innocently looks up and says, “A Moxy Girl?”

F*ck.

So much for setting goals

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NaBloPoMo was just a little too industrious for me at this point in time. I really liked the idea, but I don’t know that I would have had something interesting to say every day. It probably would have been a lot of bitching and moaning, so I really did you guys a huge favor by blowing it.

So, let’s talk about Facebook. I finally broke down and joined last week. (I am helping our HR dept start a fan page, so I felt the need to actually get on and use it.) And, as previously suspected, I am not enjoying the FB as much as other people seem to. While I have been friended by some very cool people from the past, I have also been friended by some people I never liked or didn’t know very well in high school … and that would be 20 years ago. WTF? At this very moment, I have a friend request from someone that I don’t even remember. Don’t I have to draw a line somewhere? Or do I just say whatever and friend everyone? It seems like some people do that. (The people with 500 friends!)

I also have some friends who play LOTS of games, so when I find a few minutes to log in, I am bombarded by crap like “so and so found a lost kitten and is putting it up for adoption” or “so and so is playing Farkle.” (What is Farkle?) One person even took a bunch of tests that kept telling her she was “beautiful” and she was making comments about how great and wonderful said tests were. Gag.

It will get less annoying over time I’m sure, but I think I am just more of a Twitter girl.



Rage Rover

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I was driving Anabella to preschool one day last week and as we pulled into the parking lot she said, “F*cking car!”

Very calmly, I asked (just in case I heard it wrong) “What did you say?”

“F*CKING CAR!”

As I silently try to figure out what to do next, she added “It means get out of the way.” (Ha. Like I didn’t know that.)

I instantly knew she learned that from me, because while Dan does have some rage, it’s not road rage. The sad part was that I couldn’t recall saying it … I guess I was just muttering obscenities under my breath.

So as an experiment in self-actualization, I’ve started recording my outbursts (repeats of my outbursts) on my iPhone and well, it is not pretty. I’ll provide a recap at the end of the week, but let’s just say that someone might need an anger-management class if she doesn’t want to raise a bunch of potty mouths.

“WTF?” Wednesday

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WTF was I thinking when I signed up for NaBloPoMo? And why didn’t you guys try to stop me? It’s only day four and I already feel like the Dunkin Donuts guy … “time to write the blog. time to write the blog.” I’m all about setting goals, but this is kind of like starting a no-carb diet during the holidays. Maybe I could make my life extra hard by adopting a few more toddlers or a litter of puppies that needs house training.

So anyway, I get this email today from Sur la table (a store that I love, love, love) and am instantly intrigued because Thanksgiving is approaching, we eat mostly organic meat, and they say it’s like the bestest turkey eh-ver!

Then I scrolled down to see that this turkey costs $110 for a 15-pounder. Holy crap! That turkey better be the best thing I ever put in my mouth. I’m talking no gravy necessary, super juicy, tasty and slightly orgasmic turkey. I spent $65 on a turkey two years ago and felt like an idiot. (organic but 27 pounds!) The lady at the checkout even made fun of me.

But I guess the good news here is that if even 50 people are willing to spend that kind of cash on a turkey, then the economy is clearly recovering.



P.S. If you buy one, we usually eat our Thanksgiving meal in the early afternoon, so I could totally be free to join you for dinner.