Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Angie Answers: I want my ex back!

I think most people begin to write their mental checklist of what they want in a partner from an early age. Whether you know it or not, the things that happen around you as a child help to form this list. Sometimes it's a couple you see with a fantastic marriage, and sometimes it's those with less than stellar relationship skills. But it's not just the relationships themselves that add boxes to be checked on that ever growing list of must-haves. It can be anything from a person's build, eye color, hair color, hair length, or feet. Again, no one's judging here.

None of these things are scientific breakthroughs. We know how it works. Some guys grew up thinking that Farrah Fawcett was the pinnacle of sexiness. It probably started with the blond girl they kissed in junior high, then that epic poster of Farrah in red with the hair feathered back Charlie's Angels style. Today, there are probably still men who base their physical ideal on that poster. You'll find him in a dive bar any given Friday night cozied up to the aging beauty queen who still feathers her hair back and wears a men's tank top without a bra as her "going out" shirt... regardless of her now much longer breasts.

We can't change the things that turn us on. What gets your motor revved up is what it is. There are some things though, that while carefully woven into our history, really should be avoided at all costs. I have a friend, and for the sake of this post we'll call him Sam. Now Sam is an attractive guy. He's got an honest job, a car, and work ethic. Sam also has an ex. He would like this ex back.

I have tried to tell Sam that when someone wants out you must let them out, and not just when they say, "Hey, untie me and unlock the cellar door! This isn't funny!" No, you have to let the person go and get out of their life. Then he asked the question almost everyone I know has pondered at least once. "Well if I do that how will she remember how awesome we were and all the good things about our relationship?"

Good question, right? How will they know? The answer is elementary, my dear Watson. They will only know how much they miss you when you're gone. That's how it works. Cinderella wrote a song about it. It's obviously true. But let's say you've already made it painfully clear that you're absolutely sure that you're going to die without that person, or maybe called them a billion times, left 30 voicemails, sent 50 texts, and drove past their house a lot little. What then?

The key to successfully reminding that person how awesome things used to be is to let them get hurt by someone else. It's almost an unwritten rule that if your partner springboards off your relationship into a new one that they are going to get screwed over. Karma baby. So let them have it. Apologize to your ex about how things ended, explain that you've moved on (no, I don't care if you lie about it), and that friendship and a future relationship are off the table.

You know what makes people want something really bad? When the quantities are limited, that's what. So if all things are supply and demand, take your attention elsewhere. You cut off the supply and demand will increase. How do I know? Well, look what happened when they did it to you. Uh huh, you're starting to see now.

There are a couple of ways this can go.

1. He/She still doesn't want you back. In this case, congratulations! It didn't work! Guess what, you really don't want to be with someone who doesn't want you. 

2. He/She will want you back. In this case, congratulations! It worked! Guess what though, you really don't want them back. No, really.

Maybe you're wondering, well I thought the point was to get that person back? No, the point all along is that some things need to be avoided at all cost. Exes are exes for a reason. If someone leaves you there's a good chance it will happen again. Do you really want to be with someone who only wanted to be with you because you didn't want to be with them? Probably not the healthiest decision, right?

As painful as it is when someone leaves, there comes a time when you have to let them go. Not only physically, but emotionally. Holding on to hope for a flawed and failed relationship only serves to gouge your soul a little more each day. It makes things like driving past their house at all hours of the night, following them to work, calling them repeatedly, and texting them constantly seem like good ideas when, in fact, those are things that will cause you to end up in a jail cell, wearing an orange jump suit, crying to some big burly guy with lots of poorly done body are about how you only wanted her to know you love her. If someone drives you to the point of needing a lawyer, chances are that relationship is NOT the right choice. So put that on your list, and try to make it stick.


1. blond
2. blue eyes
3. leggy
4. nice ass
5. sweet
6. sassy
7. doesn't cause me to have to hire a lawyer

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Where Are They Now?: Geppetto Speaks

In honor of Father's Day, which is less than a month away, today on Where Are They Now? we're speaking with Mr. Geppetto. You may remember Mr. Geppetto as the father of wooden puppet turned real boy, Pinocchio. Thank you for joining us Geppetto!

Geppetto: Yeah uh, sure. I'm getting paid for this right?

Angie: Yes, of course. Now Geppetto, we've not heard much from you in the past few decades. Tell us a little about what life as the father of a former fairy tale child has been like.

Geppetto: You're shitting me, right? You get the Enquirer don't you? It's been a giant shit storm. (belch)

Angie: Well, yes. I'm aware of some of the difficulties your son has faced. How has tha...

Geppetto: Difficulties? You call it whatever you like, lady, but difficulties ain't the word I'd use. The little asshole has been nothing but a money suck for years. Can I get a beer?

Angie: Sure, ahem.. one moment. While we wait, if I remember the story correctly, becoming a father was very important to you. Tell us a little about that.

Geppetto: I didn't want to be tied down again; that one woman life wasn't for me, but I wanted a son. I had a business ya know...dreams of passing something on. No one was going to let a bachelor like me adopt. I guess I got a little carried away with the whittling. I don't really know anymore. Lots of blackout days back then if you know what I mean. Beer me babe?

Angie: (sliding beer across the table) So you carved a son?

When good puppets go bad. 
Geppetto: If I'd known the sort of trouble he'd be I'd have shot that bitch fairy when I saw her hovering outside the window. I mean at first it was funny. He got up to stuff, reminded me of myself as a kid. Never got myself turned into a donkey or got swallowed by a whale or anything, but yeah... I skipped school a time or two, smoked with the boys, fooled around with some not-so-nice girls. I knew where he was coming from. You got anything stronger than this? Whiskey maybe?

Angie: Uh, sure. What is it like parenting a former wooden puppet?

Geppetto: I'd never do it again if that's what you mean. He's a knot head. Entitled little asshole. He used to at least pretend to be sorry when the cops brought his sorry ass home. Now he just gets belligerent, telling everyone he's "real now" and accuses everyone of profiling him because of his former wood status. He's not a real boy by blood, so I think he plays the wood card to get sympathy. I've bailed him out more times that I care to talk about. He's drained me of every penny I have. You growing the rye or what?

Angie: Parenting a high strung child can be stressful. How do you pass the time now?

Geppetto: I spend most of my days balls drunk, lady. Where the hell is that whiskey?

Angie: (sliding bottle and shot glass across table)

Geppetto: You don't know how many nights I had to listen to shouts of "lie to me lie to me" coming from the next room? Or worse yet, that damned chirping cricket. The kid still had no conscience and that cricket wouldn't give up the ghost. Got so bad I finally took a can of Raid to the little bastard. Biggest mistake since I carved the kid. He went from bad to worse in no time and then he took off.

Angie: Do you stay in contact with him?

Geppetto: The cricket is dead! I ain't got a damned Ouija board!

Angie: I meant your son.

Geppetto: Eh, he changed his name a few years back. Doin' those adult movies now. I got one in the van if you wanna watch it with me. Whattya say?

Angie: Er.. no thank you, but thanks for joining us today. Join us next week when we sit down with a famous Princess and her Prince Charming to talk about the pressures of marriage in the public eye.

Geppetto: Can I keep this whiskey? 

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Your Village Called: You're no Rhodes Scholar

When I was in high school I had a folder in the guidance counselor's office full of notes my "mom" had written. These notes excused me from school completely, explained my tardiness, and allowed me open access at lunch to go to home for lunch with my cousins. I wasn't an ill child so getting a jump on the forgeries was easy. If you want the school to think it's your mother's handwriting, the key is to never let them see her handwriting. Study the signature awhile. Don't just make up a random signature, you need it to come close.

Everything was cool. Life was grand. I was free from the bonds that restrict the typical high school student. Then one day my world fell apart. Study hall in our high school was held in the library. The library was directly across the hall from the principal's office and the guidance counselor's office. As I stared aimlessly through the doors of the library I saw someone familiar, yet out of place. There she was in the hallway, my mother, wearing that tight lipped look only parents get, and she was headed into the guidance counselor's office.

"What the hell? Why is she here? This is not good. Not good at all." I thought. I was right. I am still unsure exactly what I had done to draw attention to myself. Perhaps too many absences? Either way, the jig was up, the noose was out, they'd finally... anyway, you get what I'm saying. BUSTED!

Time has changed a lot of things. Now if my kids are AWOL I get a call on my cell phone from the school's automated system notifying me. The teachers and administrators have my work email to let me know if there is anything that should be brought to my attention. I have a login for a parent portal that allows me to see their grades, attendance, missing assignments, and lunch balance. There isn't much a kid can do to forge or falsify their way out of things.

I believe these advances in technology have bred a sloppy generation of document doctors. A couple of years ago I received an email from my ex boyfriend that was supposed to contain a doctor's note for one of his employees. The employee had pasted together bits and pieces of information from various sources and compiled them into one long letter from the "doctor" explaining why the employee could not perform duties as assigned. As I scrolled through the document, I noticed several paragraphs where the color changed on the font, the font size changed, and in 2 cases the font was completely different. Sloppy indeed.

My friends who work in HR could tell you stories I'm sure. In order to help our new generation of forgery artists and document falsifiers, I would like to provide a few tips that they might (do) overlook.

See how grainy I am when printed? Sad
isn't it. You stole the wrong logo. 
1. Loco for Logos 
Look at you. You're so smart. You're going to make letterhead. Go you! You went to the website and right clicked the logo of the company you're making your fake letterhead for. You've pasted that logo onto your Word doc. How awesome does that look?! Now do me a favor... hover over that logo. Does that logo take you right back to the page you stole it from. You might want to lose the hyperlink. Do you know what people do with official letters? They print them. Try to steal a better quality logo next time mmmkay?

I'm not a doctor, but I play one on fake
2. Know your place. 
Are you a lawyer? Are you a doctor? Are you at all educated in the field of the person you're claiming to be? If you're not, you may want to avoid using terminology associated with that field. Don't use words you don't understand. Don't try to be something you're not... oh sorry you already were. Carry on then. Oh hey? Don't put quotes around words. You look like a "douche" who is "stupid" and doesn't know "what the hell" they are "talking" about.

This is a picture of an invisible man.
He's invisible because he doesn't exist. 
3. And God created man. 
You, my friend, cannot create a person. You don't have the magic person creator dust and you don't know the right spells. Doctors and lawyers are bound by certain confidentiality laws. Companies are restricted as to the information they can provide about you if anyone calls to verify your information. Nevertheless, people DO call. You know that right? You'd better be damned sure the person you're pretending to be is REAL and actually works for the company you're making your shitty hyper-linked, low res logo having, poorly formatted letterhead for.

Oh look at that. You can see who, what
when, where... just not why. 
4. Your Word gives you away. 
I'm not talking about point 2. No, my poor pitiful excuse for technology users, I'm talking about Microsoft Word. Did you know, and obviously some people do not, that if you so much as hover over a Word document icon it will tell you the author, title, size, and date it was last modified? Oh and guess what else! If you right click that file and look at the properties you can tell when it was created, how many times it's been revised, and whose installation of Office it was created with. Cool, huh? You know there are ways to fix this. I am not going to tell you how. I'm not THAT helpful.

I hope that this tutorial has helped you realize that making a good quality falsified document is harder than it looks. At the very least it's a hell of a lot more work than most of you put into it.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Angie Answers : Tired and Ticked Off

Dear Angie, 

Sunday night was a difficult night for everyone in my home. Between one child's bloody nose and the other's endless chattiness, none of us got much sleep. Monday was rough on all of us. By the end of the work day both my husband and I were exhausted. We finished dinner and at 7 o'clock my husband wanders off and GOES TO BED leaving me to deal with the kids, laundry, and clean up. 

I realize he goes to work 2 hours before me, but during that time I am readying myself for work and two kids for daycare. I've been run down lately from a recent illness, and while my husband has stepped up some to help out, I am so angry that he just assumed that since I wasn't bed ridden that I could do everything myself. 

How am I supposed to get over it? How do I stop letting things like this get to me? 


Tired & Ticked Off

Dear T&T, 

First off, thank you for your question! I'll try to make this as fun and painless as possible. So where do I begin? Let's start with the kids. 

You do know kids are pretty expensive, right? Do you know how much they sell for these days?! I'm going to guess (since you did stay up with them) that you sort of like them and have already grown attached. Chances are you're planning on keeping them. SUCKER! I did that and guess what... they are going to get chattier. Hell, half the time I can't get my 15 year old to stop talking. When they DO stop talking you'll stay up late at night wondering what they are thinking about and you don't get sleep then either. Pretty soon one of them is working in your office and you start to wonder if she's trying to steal your job. Ha, and you didn't want to sell them? Sorry, too much personalizing? What was I saying? 

Either way, parenting, when possible, is a two person job. My first piece of advice would be to divide and conquer. When in a two parent home, there's nothing wrong with parent A staying up with the kiddies while parent B sleeps peacefully. The next day, parent B can take on the EOD chores and parent A can take a nice bubble bath with a glass of wine and a few laminated chapters of Shades of Gray, if ya know what I'm sayin'. Rawr. 

**This process allows both parents to be equally screwed over by their decision not to sell the kids and live the life of horny wandering gypsies, free to travel the world, wine, dine, and sleep in. 

Getting over it isn't as easy. Maybe. I like to try direct confrontation first. Try this. Tonight tell your husband that you're really tired from the late night Sunday and all of the crap you had to do when he left you hanging on Monday. Now do the following:

1. Kiss the kids and say good night. 
2. Tell you're husband you appreciate him cleaning the house before he comes to bed. 
3. Wink at him and smile. 
4. Run a bubble bath. 
5. Pour the wine. 
6. Get your laminated chapters. 
7. Soak your cares away. 
8. Go to bed. 

Now, if you don't feel better and over it at this point I don't know what will help. He needs to know that what he did wasn't fair. Explaining that you're still tired should give him plenty of indication that his going to bed early put you on a major sleep deficit. Not letting yourself get worked up over it in the future is different. 

The best option here is to not take it to begin with. Too often we let ourselves be put in a position where we feel hurt or let down. Unfortunately, most of the time we don't stand up for ourselves at the onset and the behavior goes unrecognized. By that I mean, we continue to believe people will realize, eventually, that what they've done is unfair and they will stop doing it. That's usually not the case. 

Allowing behavior to continue is self-imposed hell. You burn and burn and burn. No one will help. When people don't know that what they are doing is wrong or hurtful, they should be told. If they are told and still continue to behave in the same fashion they are inconsiderate. It's imperative that you tell your partner how you feel now. Anything less is just perpetuating the problem. Might I suggest the following: 

"Dude, I know you get up at the ass crack of dawn, but I get up with you. You leave for work and I continue to get your spawn presentable for the public. After that I take a 30 minute ride full of pre-school songs, cereal throwing, and crying. Then I drop them off at daycare where they cry for a solid 5 minutes because "Mommy is mean and horrible and leaves them at daycare". I proceed to my job where I work an 8 hour shift, just like you, and then head back to the daycare to get the kids. From there it's 30 more minutes of them arguing, talking, throwing things, and sometimes throwing up. When I get home I hope like hell dinner is made. If it's not I make dinner. Would it be too much to ask that you help me with the kids so we can both get a decent night's sleep?"

See how that works. 

Angie, your Fairy God Mother with no real powers                                                                        

Monday, May 21, 2012

Psst. It's me. What are you wearing?

I used to steal my mother's Redbook magazine when I was a teen. I would sneak it up to my room and flip through the pages looking for ways to make myself sexy. In one article there was a list of things you could do to make yourself FEEL sexier. The one pointer that stuck out in my mind was a tip that suggested you put your panties on when they were a little damp, and they would feel like a "second skin". As an adult woman I can only assume that whomever wrote that tip was a gynecologist looking to make bank on the many women who came to the office in the months that followed with a rash or an itch in a very private place.

My point here is that not all tips about being sexy are worth noting. Here are a few notes and points for looking and feeling sexy.

Odd bra out. 
Bras and Panties
Sue said, "Life is too short to wear a bra and panties that don't match."  I listened intently, being newly single and hopeful that there would come a time when someone else would see my bra and panties again. "It just makes you feel prettier." she explained. I made mental notes and promised myself that the next time I went shopping I would buy myself a set instead of a 3 pack of Granny Panties. As it turns out, that is the best tip I've ever received about feeling sexy.

People come in all shapes and sizes. So do boobs. So do asses (my last ass was 5'8" 180 lbs).  I find it next to impossible to buy a bra and panties set. You don't want a perfect bra with saggy panties or perfect panties with your boobs squishing out of the top of your cups. Spend the money. Buy separates. You're welcome.

Sexy underwear makes you feel better on the outside. If you're a guy, maybe you don't want to wear sexy panties. Maybe you do. I'm not here to judge. I will say though that if you do feel the need to wear some, buy your own. Your lady friend will not appreciate coming home and finding you wearing hers. Plus, they probably won't fit right, and if done wrong women's undergarments can cause pain.

That's classy.
I find it impossible to put on thigh highs without sitting down on the edge of the bed all "Mrs. Robinson" like. Yes, I'm aware no one is watching, but I just feel all womanly when I put them on. Also, I have a knack for finding all sorts of things to bump into. Most recently it's been my desk at work. I've been placed toward the front of the office so that I can mind the front door. Unfortunately my desk is too low for that purpose. Being the bright minded woman that I am, I elevated my office chair to it's highest position. I am a compulsive leg crosser. Cross. Uncross. WHACK. Bruised shin. Right now I'm two finger bruises away from appearing to have a very active and rough sex life when nothing could be further from the truth. My application for the convent is pending. Stockings cover unsightly bruises.

Time to cinch and refasten.
Garter belts
What I cannot for the life of me figure out is garter belts. Somewhere in my collection of stupid purchases I've made over the years I have 4 billion garters, garter belts, panties with attached garters, etc. I have yet to make it through a day of wearing them where they didn't unclasp from the top of the stockings. For those of you men who wear shirt stays, I applaud you. I am sort of surprised I've never over stretched a garter and had it snap back and take an eye out. Plus, I feel stupid spinning around trying to clasp the back. I look like a dog chasing it's tail. Sexiness gone. Thank God for the stockings with the thigh grippers. Still, sometimes you'll want to impress your partner. If you choose to go the garter route, save it for the bedroom.

Seriously? WTF?
Back in my grandmother's day they had girdles for cinching you in and keeping the jiggles to a minimum. Again, maybe I've been doing it wrong, but I can't get on board the Spanx wagon. If I'm feeling self conscious about my midsection in a particular outfit, I will either not wear the outfit or I'll wear nylons with control top. Thanks anyway, Spanx makers. I tried your underwear and they grabbed my ass in all the wrong ways.

 Eventually I'm going to have to take them off and then my real body will be exposed. Do I want that special someone to unwrap me and find a whole second layer of gear and me looking like a stuffed sausage? I'll pass. I saw some the other day that look like a wrestler's unitard. Think Bridget Jones' Diary. Save all Spanx and similar undergarments for a day when you know there's not a snow ball's chance in hell that you will be having sex.

This concludes today's post on underwear... I mean sexiness... or something. Did you take notes?

So... what are you wearing? 

Sunday, May 20, 2012


First of all, there is something outside my house that the rain is dripping on that is echoing. It's totally distracting me, but I'm going to do the best I can to muddle through here. Bear with me.

I just pulled the last two squares of chocolate close to me. That's right. I have two squares of chocolate each day that keep me from killing random strangers in parking lots wherever I go. Each day I allow myself these two squares as an appeasement of the body God. It's sick. I know. Shut up. Either way, I just leaned over and grabbed them, slid them close to me, took a deep breath, and relaxed like they would be my saving grace in the apocalypse. What the hell is THAT about?

Last year someone told me to be happy with my weight for now because it would come back. There was a chuckle there, I don't remember if it was her or me, but someone laughed. I'm pretty sure it wasn't me because the idea that my lost pounds would come back is the most horrific thing I could imagine short of harm to one of my loved ones. I have promised myself over and over... if God would just make me thin I would never put the weight back on. I'm still not "thin" but tonight, I hear those words echoing, "Enjoy it now." 

The new treadmill is properly assembled and working like a dream. You forget the feeling of a brand new piece of equipment when you've gone so long with one that rattles and makes loud rumbling noises. When I stepped on it 2 weeks ago I felt like I was home. Like an alcoholic slipping into oblivion with a drink, everything else fell away.

There was a low hum, just loud enough to be perceptible but not enough to disturb anything; more of a white noise really. The only real sound was that of the tread of my shoes striking the belt. Heaven. Do you sleep with a fan on? The TV? The Radio? It's like that. Seconds turn to minutes and then an hour. Quiet. Except in my head. 

This isn't enough. You can't run far enough. The speed isn't as fast as it should be. Crank up the incline. How are you ever going to fit into that... wait. What is this about? Remember when it was about health? There was a time I did this to be in shape and now it's just to escape. What am I here for?

Control. It's what I don't have. Lack of control is what keeps me from beginning my career as a bar whore,  buying the bag of cookies at the super market, the 750 of vodka at the liquor store, or 3 pair of shoes I really like in 3 different colors. The only control I seem to have these days is in abstaining. I know I can't have just one so I'll have none at all. The only acceptable thing is the miles I put in. 

Maybe that's okay. Maybe it's alright if the one thing I can control is the quiet time I get for myself when the only thing talking is the voice in my head sorting out my day. I suppose it could be worse. I could binge and purge the cookies. I could sit at home without food and destroy my liver. I could be laying it out for every Tom, Dick, and Harry that winked at me. I could be broke and buried in boxes of shoes I couldn't possibly find places to wear. Instead I spend my time walking to... nowhere. 

Something is missing. Me? It's obviously not the chocolate. It's still there. 

Friday, May 18, 2012

Your Village Called

"I don't mean to be a bitch, but I probably will be." That happens to be my motto a lot lately. It's not that everyone will think I'm a bitch, but everyone I'm about to offend will probably wonder if I have a heart of stone, no empathy, and what makes me so mean. That's a topic for an entirely different post, so let's just assume all of those people are right about me, shall we? 

Not everything bad thing in life is the fault of someone else. I'm sorry, it's just not. Whether through poor decision making or ignorance many of the shitty things that happen to us in life are, in fact, our own fault. Now I'm not saying you should spend the rest of your life beating yourself up, but pointing the finger of blame at someone else does not actually relocate the blame. What happened to taking responsibility for our actions? 

A few days ago I happened across an article discussing the lawsuit against Skechers. "The Federal Trade Commission has just announced that Skechers will pay $40 million to settle charges it misled consumers into believing its “toning shoes” would help people lose weight and tone their buttocks, legs and abdominal muscles, without ever setting foot in the gym." The part of the article and the lawsuit that struck me as at once hysterical and infuriating is that of all the claims that could be made about these shoes, the FTC found them guilty of misleading the public? Oh, please. Just shoot me now. 

I have worked my way through a pair of Skechers toning shoes, as well as Reebok's version (recently settled a similar lawsuit at $25 million). While they did take some getting used to, I personally had no problem with either pair. I have no tissue damage. I have no joint problems. But (punny), my ass still isn't all POW! BAM! AWESOME! 

There are a few things you should know about these shoes. 

1. If you are uncoordinated these shoes aren't for you. 
If you fall easily, don't buy shoes with rocker bottom soles. This is a no-brainer. If you bought them anyway, then I'm afraid you might be an idiot. 

2. These shoes are not designed for distance running. 
Again, sort of a no-brainer here. Most people need to mentally concentrate on the walking part for awhile when wearing these shoes. If you took off running, you're probably an idiot. 

3. If you have weak ankles these shoes are not for you. 
If you can't walk in high heels for fear of rolling your ankle, what makes you think you can wear these shoes that are not only high, but also unstable? Idiocy is highly likely here. 

4. The shoes come with an instruction/information insert. 
You didn't see it? I saw it. You didn't read it? Me either. Unfortunately, it's not the teacher's fault when you don't study for a test. Idiot. 

5. You have to take them out of the box to make them work.  
You had to know this was coming. It said "without setting foot in a gym". It didn't say, "while continuing to eat McDonald's Big Macs, large fries, and a thick shake every day for lunch". It didn't say, "while never having to workout." It didn't say, "in only 5 minutes". You're a complete freaking idiot. 

Admittedly, I wish they had worked a miracle on my ass. They did not. Was my ass firmer? My thighs? My calves? Hell yeah. Why? Because I wore them. I probably would have been okay with this lawsuit (not pleased with) had they based it solely on injury. If you fell down and broke an ankle, had an irritating shift in your gait, etc. yeah, fine, sue the company. I simply cannot wrap my head around the idea of our government deciding that, once again, people were misled by advertising. See the asterisk on the box? Maybe you should read to find out the significance. 

Perhaps it's time for a little cold hard truth in advertising. 

****Introducing the new Skechers Shape-Ups for Coordinated People! May help to tone your hips, thighs, and buns if you actually wear them and don't just sit around on your ass all day!***

Of course we won't do that will we? Why should we when there are always plenty of fingers to use to redirect the blame? I mean unless you accidentally cut all your fingers off with those super sharp Ginsu knives they sell on late night infomercials. In that case you'll have to find something else to point with... God forbid we take a little responsibility for our own idiocy. 

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Wag Vs. Angie: When In-Laws Move In (Three strikes and you're out)

Hello from the land of Wag Vs. Angie! It's been awhile, but we're back now so let's not dwell mmkay? Welcome back for round blahty blah blah something or other. I've lost count. Today we're going to be talking about something husbands and wives all over the world fear. It's a story so horrific and painful that it's usually only talked about when one partner is out of the room. That's right. When in-laws move in. Da da daaaaaaaa!! You can find out what Wag had to say over here.

Here's the sitch my friends. We've talked before about how to deal with that nasty mother or father in-law that can't seem to find it in their power to treat you like a human being. What we've not covered is what happens when that old viper needs a place to live. What do you do when your spouse wants to bring dear old Dad or Mom home to roost? Do you:

1) Acquiesce, remember to respect your elders, swallow the stinging words, and make your spouse happy?
2) Give a conditional agreement and inform your soon to be new housemate that you will not be disrespected in your own home.
3) Put your foot down, remind your spouse of the years of hurtful words, and toss them some brochures for some suitable assisted living facilities.

I thought long and hard about this over the past few days. My initial response was obviously option three. I am kind to those who are kind to me, but I've reached a time in my life where I have very little patience for people who treat me poorly. In my mind, option 3 was definitely the way to go. However, the more I thought about it the more I leaned toward option 2.

My niece got a book for graduation many years ago by Robert Munsch called Love You Forever. The story is about the special bond between a mother and her child and repeats the theme "I'll love you forever. I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be." It follows along through the little boy's life until he's a grown man and the roles are reversed. The bond between parent and child is a strong one.

Imagine looking into your spouse's face and saying, "Absolutely not! That old _____ is NOT living in MY house!" If you manage to escape without suffering a slap to the face the look of sadness and heartbreak might haunt you forever. In a perfect world, you'd never be put in this situation. Your spouse would have stood up for you of their own free will long ago and this behavior would have ended. Had it not, your spouse wouldn't dream of asking you to give up your man cave/crafting room/home gym to house the angry beast. Life's not perfect.

A definitive no puts your spouse between a rock and a hard place. You'd essentially be asking them to choose between their love for you and their loyalty to their parent. How would the shoe feel on the other foot?

Still, you shouldn't be forced into a situation where you are ridiculed or harassed in your own home. This is a place of peace and comfort. It's an escape from the outside world. You've created this world with your own blood sweat and tears and no one should be allowed to disrespect it, elderly or not. Option two is the answer.

Sit down with your spouse and law down the ground rules. Be understanding of your partner's situation. They feel a sense of love and obligation to care for their aging parent and that is admirable. Explain that you are concerned about the way your in-law treats you and the strain it will put on the home. Make your expectations of treatment very clear. Iron this out as much as possible before opening the door and clearing out the spare room.

I hate to sound like I'm discussing how to deal with children, but I see it much the same given the circumstances. Your in-law needs to be taught what is and is not acceptable in your home. It would be unfair to completely stifle their freedom to voice an opinion, but when that first insult happens you need to be ready to say, "Evelyn, that was rude and hurtful. I won't be talked to that way in our home. If you cannot be kind at the very least be quiet." That's warning one. It's sounds a heck of a lot nicer than, "Listen up you old bitch, speak to me that way again and you'll find yourself on the front walk with your cat and your knitting!" Though that does have a certain appeal...

Have you ever noticed that no one seems to learn on the first try? I doubt this will be any different. Warning two will need to be a bit more stern. "Bob, I don't appreciate the way you're speaking to me. You're free to find a place to live where you don't have to be around me. I will help you pack if that's your choice. Otherwise, learn to hold your tongue.

Personally, I'd only allow for 2 strikes, but if you're one of those baseball lovers who wants to use the whole analogy go right ahead. Perhaps your final warning could be something along the lines of, "I have my finger on the mouse lady. Keep running your yap and I'll submit this application to Shady Acres Home for the Crotchety. You'll find yourself doing string art in the day room faster than you can say Metamucil. Just keep it up."

Blog Love enclosed. Do not bend.

A few days ago, my girl Pish Posh honored me with a Liebster Award. I've had the pleasure of passing this award around a couple of times before, and I'm always happy to use it as a chance to introduce a few friends that are new to the blogging world, new to me, and worth being showcased. 

I'd like to hand this award off to the following blogs: 

Random Girl Blog
This girl knows how to have fun. I mainly read her blog so I can date vicariously through her. Make sure you pop over for Softcore Fridays! You can also find her over at Indie Girls. It's worth your time. 

Simone Says...
A woman after my own mind. In case you haven't noticed, I have a thing for writers who put it out there the way it really is. That's what you're going to get when you go to Simone Says. Everything I want to say about this site sounds ridiculous when I see it on the screen. Just go. 

I'm In There Somewhere
I found Kelly on Twitter before I found her blog, but when she Tweeted me a link to 90's rap... I put her on a list of people I would have to make friends with. I don't have nearly enough people who will sing No Diggity with. Take a look inside her life and her world and you'll see a strong woman that loves her family and friends. She's the sort of person I would totally get trashed on the back deck with and wait for the neighbors to yell over that we should stop dancing like total whores and please shut up. 

Yelling Near You (not at you)
Mark has gone and done what I keep telling myself I will do. He became a Canadian. I'm so jealous. I won't go into it, but Mark knows why he's on my list of people you should get to know. Let's just say he's good people. He's funny, he's smart, and there's bacon. See now it won't matter WHAT I say... if it's got bacon you KNOW it's good. 

Monday, May 14, 2012

And the Best Mom In This House award goes to...

Since no one else is a Mom up in this house... I graciously accept. 

This is going to come as a bit of a surprise to you, but I have never won Mother of the Year. Sure, I came close a couple of times when my children's father wasn't married to someone else, but I've never taken the big prize or walked away with the trophy. Frankly, much like a child who realizes she's been a brat all year long will straighten up at the beginning of December before going to sit on Santa's lap, I usually forget I'm supposed to be vying for the kids' vote until the very end of April. There have been a few times over the last almost 19 years that I would have settled for a certificate of participation or maybe even a red runner-up ribbon.

When I divorced over 12 years ago I honestly looked at my child custody agreement with a bit of joy. For four days a month and up to 6 weeks every summer I wasn't going to be the person kissing scrapes, making meals, getting up early, doing laundry, or being woke in the night with words like, "Mom I wet my bed." or "I got a bloody nose and I promise I wasn't picking it."

That's exactly how it was for about 2 years (give or take a weekend here or there). I instituted clothing optional weekends when I wasn't tending bar at a local dive for spare cash. When the kids climbed into his pickup truck I headed for the grocery store. I gathered my weekend necessities as quickly as possible and went straight back home. Once back inside, I closed the door, locked it, pulled the shades, and tuned the world out. It was absolute bliss.

A few years later when we lived in Denver I was blessed to have family that took my children over Christmas breaks so I could work and have time to collect my wits before joining everyone for the actual holiday. After being in the city for almost a year, I'd not taken time to really experience anything. Finally I had a chance to spread my wings. It was the holiday season, and I felt relieved to not have my children with me.

In 2004 the kids and I relocated to Sioux Falls. After many missed weekends by their father and more than a few unclaimed holidays, I received a call from him asking if he could have the kids for an extended weekend, which would eat into their school time. He was getting married to a woman that had caused much turmoil in his own family, almost causing my children to lose contact with their paternal grandparents. Still, I didn't hesitate a moment to say, "Yes, I'll make sure they are available." I didn't argue that they had just started in a new school. I didn't force him to drive all the way here to pick them up. I offered to meet them half way,  loaded their bags into the car, and sang like a bird the entire way. SWEET.FREEDOM.

Following our move back to the Midwest, the only childless weekends I had were those times when I drove back to see my family and could leave the children off with their father. He lived only a couple miles from my parents and while they visited him, I stayed with the folks. Still, I wasn't at home during those weekends and returning home left me feeling like I'd had no weekend at all. The summer visits were inconsistent at best, with one child or the other calling and begging to be allowed to come home ahead of schedule. But those blissful 2 weeks or so when they were both gone at the same time... oh those were a little slice of Heaven.

I could pretend to be something else, Mother of the Year even. I could tell you that I read to my kids every night, made wholesome meals, taught them an appreciation for broccoli and brussel sprouts (eww), and was a sad sack nervous wreck every time the kids were out of my sight. I could try to make you believe that I've always said the right things to make my kids feel better and took every step possible to make them the very best they could be. I didn't.

Instead, let me tell you what I got instead of a trophy or a title. I got the kids I raised. Of course there were some tokens of appreciation, hugs, and kind gestures, but above all else I got my kids. They didn't lay on any fake emotion and there were no grand performances. They were the same chilled out, laid back, keeping it quiet kids they always are. Above all else, they let me sleep in, and neither of them made the mistake of trying to make me breakfast in bed.

I won't lie, a kick ass gift like an all expenses paid vacation wouldn't be turned down. At the same time, I don't really feel like having a discussion about what illegal activities they'd been participating in to afford such luxury for Dear Old Mom. It's best I settle for an award like, "Best Mom We've Got" or "Best Mom In This House"; fewer questions, more quiet.

Friday, May 11, 2012

How To Ask Someone Out

It's the weekend, kids! For those of you unattached, single, and ready to mingle, do you have a date this weekend? Have you checked your Match, PlentyofFish, eHarmony, or Yahoo Personals account(s) yet? There could be a lover in there waiting for you! What about that cutie at the grocery store? Ooh how about that hot guy/girl at the book store? Favorite bartender? Someone?  Anyone? Have you asked?

Given the fact that's it's Friday evening, you are probably out of luck for this weekend, but that doesn't mean you can't get yourself out there to mingle and make a possible love connection for another time! Perhaps you're thinking, "There's always tomorrow night!". You're right. Tomorrow is another day, Scarlet. It could happen, but should it?

Wednesday night I met some friends for ladies night at Icon, and as usual the conversation went from work to family and relationships. We hit the highlights of our week; frustrations, flirtations, and heartaches. Toward the end of the hour, one of my friends said, "So I hear you've been trying to get together with _____." I'm sure the look on my face registered confusion for at least the first few seconds before it broke into a big smile. "Really? That's funny because we don't actually talk. I've shared every interaction we've had with you. That's the extent of it. Did he tell you that?" I asked.

As it turns out, the man in question told his friend... who happens to know me and who also happens to be close to one of my best friends. If this is sounding quite high school like, you're dead on. Some people never grow up apparently.

In honor of this gentleman's misstep, I've got a little list to share with you that may help you with your future in dating. So without further ado, let's roll.

1. Ask the person out at least 3 days in advance. 
If you want to get to know someone before you ask them out, you might want to find out what they do in their spare time, where they go, and what they enjoy. Perhaps a group outing would be best. Asking someone to meet you when you're already out is certainly not a date. It also suggests that you're surveying the scene and can't find anything better so you're calling for a fall back. No one wants to be thought of as a last minute good time.

2. Do not Facebook message or email your invite. 
Technology is great isn't it? You can do almost everything without lifting anything more than your fingers on the home row (kudos if you know what the hell home row is without clicking the link). What you cannot, or should not do is email, Facebook, or DM your potential date with an invitation. If you want someone to spend some time with you face to face you should have the decency to call them to ask them to join you (in advance... see #1). If you've got time to send something in text form, you've got time to step into a quiet area and make a phone call.

3. Do not talk about your sexual prowess. 
You can talk all you like, but talk does not always equate to action. Sure, sexy talk is fun when you've gotten to know someone, but it's hard to take someone seriously if they jump right in with talk about their knowledge of how your body works. Just like no two snowflakes are the same, no two people are the same. Just because you knew how to make your exes climax doesn't mean you know jack about what your potential partner likes. Save it for later. You're setting yourself and your potential partner up for letdown.

4. Avoid blanket statements.
This one I'll give you is from personal experience. I knew the things I didn't like about my exes, and I would state upfront that I didn't like a particular fashion or activity. In reality, I didn't like those things as I associated them with someone who had broken my heart. If you want to be picky, be picky on the big issues. Don't choose things like "I don't like people who wear ___ label." I actually own a Coach bag that isn't leather. It's got the "C" print cloth. I love it. I can't afford the leather one. If that takes me off someones list, that's perfectly alright with me.

5. Don't run your mouth.
It doesn't matter where you live, it's a small world. You might want to consider who you're talking to. If you're unsure of the degrees of separation, don't speak at all. If you do know mutual people, speak even less. Unless you're saying, "I'd really like to see ___." close your yap. You're not helping your case by making stuff up or assuming things. Your mutual friends will figure out eventually that you're full of shit.

Talk to me folks. Are there any other major dating faux pas that you'd like to add to the list? 

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Angie Answers

Every once in a while life throws us all curve balls that we cannot begin to answer without the help of others. When this happens to me I turn to my family. My family can usually be trusted to give me solid advice, or at the very least, listen quietly while I sniffle and whine on the other end of the line. I find the Phone-a-Fam method to be best because it allows my family to pretend they are listening while they say, “Uh huh. Right. Okay. Yeah. Oh?” and go on about their evening activities.

Not all of us have that luxury. Sometimes family isn’t available and we turn to the family we’ve made for ourselves; our friends. For me the process is pretty much the same. Phone a friend and tell them that you’re facing a life dilemma and then when you’re pretty certain that you hear them washing dishes or flipping channels on TV, launch into your description of the predicament. Again, listen for the key words that indicate that you’re free to ramble. “Uh huh. Right. Okay. Yeah. Oh?”

But what do you do when you have neither friends nor family available? What if the problem is so vexing and so private that you are not comfortable asking your loved ones to help you out? Dear Abby seems like a good choice, but you never know if you’re going to get chosen. Advice columns in magazines are much the same, though perhaps closer to your demographic. Still if you need help right away where do you go?

I’d like to tell you that you can email me. Sure you can. However, I might not get back to you within minutes and I’m only one person (except on those days when my inner bitch overtakes my outer bitch). Maybe you’re thinking, “Angie I wouldn’t trust you to tell me which pants make my ass look fat!” and if that is indeed what you’re thinking, screw you! I would so tell you. As a matter of fact, your ass makes those pants look too small. So there you go. 

There is still someplace you can go to get a variety of answers to your deepest darkest personal questions that you don’t want your whole family to know about. The internet! I don’t know if you know it or not, but you can even make yourself useful. Let’s say you’ve just posted your burning question on whatever site ( and you’re patiently waiting for a slew of people to help you figure out how you can make someone fall in love with you when you’re a single mom who has spent years in failed relationships, but you’re facing an empty nest and…” Whoever that might be.

Anyway, you’re waiting patiently and you realize that you can ANSWER questions too. Well, it never hurts to give back. Let’s take a look at some questions that people need answered and I’ll take a stab at them myself.

1. If i am 13 an he's 16 but i have been wit him for almost a yr, should i give him my virginity?

No. Your mother will tell you that he’s only after one thing. Guess what! He’s only after one thing. I don’t know you and I don’t know him. What I do know is that 16 year old boys dating 13 year old girls don’t know anything about relationships, commitment, or what to do when you end up knocked up. Keep your pants on. Isn’t there a new episode of Drake and Josh to watch? I can guarantee you that as lame as that show is, it’s a hell of a lot funnier than crying on the floor of the girl’s bathroom at the school after you pee on a stick and see two lines instead of one. Keep your pants on. Also, learn to use full words and capitalization.

2. Am i pregnant?

I told you to keep your pants on. Did you listen? Obviously not. Now might be a good time to find a CVS or a Walgreens and pick up a pregnancy test. You can put it off all you like while you wait for someone to answer your question here on the web, but the truth is that no one can pee on the stick for you and none of us can tell you if you’re pregnant. You still haven’t mastered capitalization.

3. How do you get somebody to notice you when you have tried everything?

Ha! You said boy. Anyway, you don’t. You just said you’ve tried everything. If you have two piles and one pile has everything in it, what does the other pile have? Nothing. So basically, if that person hasn’t noticed you and you’ve tried “everything” then there’s really very little hope. It would also suggest that this other person is not worth investing more effort in. I take that back. You can do a few things, but you’re probably not mature enough to deal with the consequences if you’re posting this ridiculous crap on

4. How to get a boy to break up with you, if they love you?

I know this one! I know this one! Same answer as #3. You don’t. Don’t cheapen yourself or stoop to lies. Be honest and remove yourself from the relationship. The rest is up to the other person. Remember the last time you loved someone who didn’t love you back? It doesn’t go away that easily does it? You don’t control anyone else’s feelings.

5. I want my ex back. We have hukd up recently but last time he said he doesn’t want me anymore. What shud I do?

Do nothing. Listen, hooking up with someone is great. It’s easy. That’s what he’s looking for… something easy. He said he doesn’t want you. Even if he was playing some sick mind game and he DOES want you, what sort of normal person does that? Based on the spelling, I’m going to guess this is your first go round so I’ll go easier on you by telling you to seek counseling. No one is that important that you keep going back. Looking for approval? Bad relationship with your dad? Been there… seek counseling. Also, seek a tutor. Your spelling needs help.

I feel like I’ve given enough back for today. If you feel you have some burning question you need an answer to feel free to ping me, and I’ll answer you as quickly as possible. Until then... you know how to reach me! 

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Vagazzling is a personal thing, and other porn store realizations

There is something about an "adult" super store that enhances my immaturity like nothing else ever could. Jill and I stepped through the doors of Annabelle's and prepared ourselves for Bachelorette party shopping. When it comes to these sorts of stores, I think most people go in with an idea of what they want. Whether you're looking for a vibrator, dildo, sleeve, cock ring, or some fetish gear you probably knew what you were looking for when you walked in the door. Sure, some things might catch your eye (and wow did they ever), but really, how often do you stray?

It's different when you're shopping for someone else. When Terra said she wouldn't mind if we did a naughty bachelorette party I was a little shocked to be honest. Her one request was that we didn't do any of the "suck for a buck" type events or anything that had to do with selling favors of any sort. That was easy enough to do because none of us wanted to sell anything either. We were left with shopping. As we wandered the aisles, I learned a few things and came to some conclusions.  

1. Buying a sex toy for a friend is awkward. 
This is the equivalent of deciding for your friend what they like in a penis. You run the risk of coming off looking either too prudish or too freaky. Not everyone likes the same thing, or likes them at all. These things are not returnable people. 

"Now I prefer the lipstick vibe, but you my friend look like the sort of girl who wants something with a little heft, some girth, and a real life-like feel. This one weighs in at 2 pounds and takes 4 D batteries. It doesn't do the dishes or mow the yard, but I bet you won't care."

2. Buying lingerie for a friend is creepy. 
Let's forget about the fact that you have to try to decide if your friend will even wear it. You have to now imagine your friend IN it. 

"So I was looking around and I thought to myself, you would look terrific in leather crotchless panties and a nippleless bra. What? I'm just saying if I were your man I would want a little kink. WHAT?" 

3. Vagazzling is a personal thing. 
If you're not familiar with this fad, check here. If you don't know about the state of the shrubbery in your friend's garden, you might want to avoid purchasing this sort of item for them. Those crystals aren't cheap. 

4. All candy can be made into penis shape. 
Our lovely bride now has more dick shaped candy than any one person can ever eat in one lifetime. At some point her husband to be will casually say, "Honey, can I have a breath mint?" and she will just as casually hand him the pack of Peckermint candies we gave her. That will be a heart warming moment. 

5. Porn has changed.
Remember when it was in magazine format? Then it was on VHS. Soon it was out on DVD. Soon porn was so prolific that anyone who could figure out how to turn on a computer could have access. Now it comes on a USB drive. I don't know why I was surprised, but I was. 

6. Nothing in that store is worth over $100. 
Yeah, I'm familiar with the edge. I bet you can make that with a pillow. The creativity has gone all out of the bedroom now hasn't it? $245? REALLY? Also, a tiny vibrator shaped like a lipstick that runs on watch batteries is ridiculous at almost $40. Watch batteries are expensive dammit!  

7. There should be some age verification when you leave the store. 
They checked my ID when I went in, but I guarantee you that I was a good 20 years younger when I left. I am sure Jill was a little mortified by my voice yelling over the shelves, "OMG LOOK AT THIS" then giggling. She may have also been slightly put off by me testing the strength of the vibrators by turning them on and touching them to the tip of her nose. Maybe.   

Have you ever been to an "adult super center"? If so, are you capable of going to one without giggling?

Tag. You're It.

Tag…. You’re it! I was tagged by the beautiful and talented Azra, over at Azurah to participate in a little Q&A. I would love to see if we could get a few people to steal this and give their own answers, so if you're interested, give a little linkback and give it a try! 

1. What is your favorite saying, or motto?
Appreciation is a wonderful thing. It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well. – Voltaire. 

2. What is your dream job?
Short of being a well paid journalist, I’d have to say advertising executive. I love “reading” an audience and the thought that goes into ad creation.

3. What part of the world do you have little interest in travelling to? And which part of the world is next on your “list”?
Either pole. J I am not a fan of bitter cold. Next on my list would be Turkey.

4. If you could live anywhere, where would it be?
I’m still sort of partial to the UK, but not a snowy part.

5. When you travel, do you prefer to go to the city or the countryside?
I love both, but when it comes to activities I’m definitely leaning toward the city. If I were traveling with a lover I’d make sure to work in some countryside, because I love hiking and unspoiled views.

6. What is the last thing you think about before falling asleep?
Blankets and whether I need more or less.

7. Are you a gardener or a garden admirer? You can be both!
I don’t garden. I put plants in the ground for decoration, but I don’t actually do any real work with it. I am not even a garden admirer really. I like fresh veggies, but not enough to be impressed by someone’s efforts.

8. Do you enjoy cooking? If so, what are some meals you like to prepare when you entertain?
I love to cook! I tend to lean toward Italian dishes when I entertain, simply because it seems fairly easy to feed a crowd with the heartier Italian dishes. I make a kick ass 5 cheese Italian sausage lasagna and my pesto chicken ravioli isn’t bad either.

9. Do you parallel park or drive around the block?
Oh, I drive around the block for sure. Parallel parking is definitely not my forte.

10. If there were 7 people from any time period you could invite to dinner, who would they be?
Jesus, Queen Mary of Scots, Henry the VIII, Julius Caesar, Marc Anthony, Grace Kelly, Alexandra Romanov

11. Have you ever written or would you like to write a short story, memoir, or novel?
I have begun and come close to finishing novels and short stories, but generally lose confidence or fire and abandon the project.

12. What kind of music helps you unwind?Hmm… unwinding would definitely be Bon Iver.
13. When was the last time you cried?Last week. I don’t want to talk about it.
14. Which lyrics aptly describe your love life?
Nico Stai’s- Maybe Maybe

15. What do you most enjoy about blogging, and what advice would you give new bloggers?
For me blogging is about the pouring out of thought onto page. Many times I find that as I’m writing on a particular topic I can not only clear the cobwebs out of my own head, but I can sort my thoughts and find out more about how I truly feel. My advice to new bloggers would be to write for your own needs. You will find your niche as you go. Don’t try to force yourself to fit into a particular category because you will usually find that even though you may find initial success, it won’t last or be as satisfying. 
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