Passive aggressiveness is the new assh*le.

I don’t know what it is about people lately but they are acting like insulted housewives! Oops. Was that not PC?

You know how some wives, I know not all of them so save the hate mail, will be mad at their husbands but they don’t tell them why so they resort to the “if you don’t know why I’m upset, I’m not telling you!”? I’ve never understood this behavior since I pretty much always tell Andy exactly why I’m pissed off. I let him know in great detail which of his actions have infuriated me. I even make a little graph so that there are absolutely no misunderstandings. I don’t walk around the house sulking and waiting for him to get a clue.

Anyway, this isn’t about Andy THIS TIME.

I’m getting my fill this week with people making it known they’re mad at me but not having the balls to tell me why. Did I not ask you if you needed to go to the bathroom enough times? Did I say good morning too sharply? Did I insult you when I asked you to double check something because you’ve been known to fuck up on more than one occasion? Was it the fact that I did not want to answer anymore questions on the bracelet you found that must have been sitting in the storage area since 1978 making it impossible to be mine because at that time I was 6 and my mom wouldn’t let me cross the street by myself much less come to a different state, sneak into a medical building and unlock a storage space with my pinkie nails. Yes I know the writing on the bracelet is in “”MEXICAN”” and I don't know if those dried flowers inside are indigenous to Mexico because honestly, I’m pretty sure there are more than one of us who roam the earth.

Let me tell you something, and by ‘you’ I don’t mean YOU, unless you’re pissing me off too, it’s not ME it’s YOU. Can you please shut the fuck up and/or kiss my ass? Thanks.

Phew! That felt great! I’m still trying to figure out the right combination of meds that will keep my head from exploding but this rant did wonders!

Oh and P.S.
Don’t feel bad for Andy because he has a crazy wife. I tell him everyday how lucky he is not to have a high maintenance wife. He is 98% free to do whatever he wants whenever he wants without having to ask my permission. Ever.

The other 2% he spends by taking me to a movie every once in a while.*

How's that for passive aggressive?

If she bends over, you'll know what year she was born. Also, see a duck mooning the crowd.

We went to the Laundromat again on Monday. I think we all know how much I detest that place. Every time we go, something happens that infuriates me!

This time it was a stupid washer that didn’t let me select any other cycle other than ‘woolens’. Normally I would have just taken my clothes out and found one that had its entire workable buttons but the ones that weren’t being used, had little out of orders signs. I decided to just leave it there, what could go wrong?

Well, it turns out that the soap compartment wasn’t working properly and so my clothes received the same cleaning my uncle Ricardo gave himself when he was 10 and he pretended to shower by wetting the top of his head but not bothering to remove the dirt stains from his face.

The options were to rewash them which would mean spending more time in the demon’s armpit or just dry them and call it a day. My uncle Ricardo would be proud.

Next up, a lady set her basket on my table. Some of you may remember the near nervous breakdown that caused the last time. This time I remained calm (as calm as a teeny tiny raft on a raging river), cool (as cool as a walrus in a sauna) and collected (as collected as the hippo stamp)(I don’t know what that means either but I couldn’t come up with anything anti-collected). I decided not to say anything until it was time for me to use the table. When her husband went to move the basket without me having to say anything, I heard her say “leave the basket there”

It. Was. ON!

Unfortunately, she left the L’mat (that's what we cool non washer having people call it) to have dinner while her clothes were in the wash so she didn’t see me grab her basket and throw it on a washer. I told Andy “Don’t worry babe. If she comes in here and says something, I’ll take her outside!” but my Andy, being the kind hearted person he is said “uh Bee? She and her husband are both bigger than we are…” so I told my man he could wait in the car while I took care of them both.

I really thought she'd say something when she came back because she was also a Latina and I know I would have said something but she didn’t. She must be one of those higher plane people with normal blood pressure I keep hearing about.

Things at work are a little better since OZ is on vacation yet again. Boy, the economy hasn’t hit that dude one bit! Anyway, he still has peculiar requests when he calls. His most recent one was odd even for him. He wants me to Google ‘why we should send a refund to an insurance company’. When I asked if I may just CALL the insurance company themselves and ask them directly why they’re requesting the refund:

“No! JUST GOOGLE IT! I want a full report when I come back on Monday!”

Um okay? While I have my googler out I will also ask “why does my boss think google is a magic 8 ball?”

That man cracks me up. He cracks me up like a baseball bat to the head cracks me up.

We took my mom and Natalia to the Botanic Gardens on Sunday and while Natalia, my mom and Andy tanned, the sun left its mark on my scalp, chest, arms and feet the way a soccer ball did to my thighs when I tried to stop a goal (what a fun memory! The imprint of a half moon on each thigh was an awesome thing to explain to people).  I remember being able to tan just by standing near a window now I have to cover up like I’m 106.

I love going to the gardens. I was happy to see that a lot of the plants/flowers they planted are the same ones I’m trying to encourage to grow in my garden. Sadly, mine got too much water earlier this year so they’re struggling but I’m hoping they come back healthier next year.

Of course, plants aren’t the only things you see at the botanic gardens.

There was also a woman in a sheer maxi-mini dress in 5 inch platform stripper shoes. I didn’t take a picture of her, even though I could have, because I worry about the content I put on this here blog. I certainly do not want to corrupt/offend anyone with delicate sensibilities so instead I drew a picture of her.

censored for your protection.

Yeah I know! Ewwwww!

So anyway, later alligators.

Out of context

“I think I just parked over a chicken bone”

“ Bee: I can smell through my mouth.

Andy: YOU should donate your body to science! ”

“Two-ply don’t bother me. Two-ply don’t bother me”

“The sun is blinding me so right now I'm just driving by memory of the road.”

“Nutter butter sounds like another name for Fromunda cheese”

“I wonder how big her hole is”

“I seriously doubt all the letters make an appearance in alphabet soup”

“My head isn’t a toy, Andy!”

“That lady looks like an orange”

“My need for crushing heads is equal to your need for correcting me.”

“Well then I guess I’ll have to type while dripping mango juice!”

“Bah! One potato won’t kill me! It would take at least 10 to take me down!”

“Yes. Yes. She is tall and skinny but wearing only a tank top and stripper shoes benefits nobody, right Andy? Andy? ANDY!!”

“When a wife beats up her husband because of *errant eyes* nobody wins. Except maybe the wife because she gets that nice afterglow.”

Okay, those last two were not so much out of context as they were telling a true tale of jealousy and mayhem.

be back tomorrow with a *real* post.

"Bee n' Andy: Married and sometimes, still in love..."- Last resort babysitters.

TO BE CONTINUED!

♪♫ TAHN -TAHN -TAHN! ♪♫

Thanks to Meleah Rebeccah for making me aware of the cool Comic program that is making posting our Sunday Funnies so much easier!

How you doin'? + How well do you know me?

Okay you guys, I'm kind of crabby today because Tazz woke me up at 5:45 which means I only got 5 hours of sleep, I have my 1,000th doctor's appointment this year this morning (and I'm tired of them!), it's rainy and soggy outside, my plants/flowers have mold because of all of the rain, I burned my eggos, I can't have coffee until after the doc appointment (blood pressure readings are still too high but I'll be damned if I give up my coffee), I have 13 zillion mosquito bites and only 2 hands to scratch them with, Andy won't stop with the baby talk when he talks to Mocha (what is he doing up anyway? It's too early!)(did I mention no coffee?), ETCETERA!

To cheer myself up, I am posting this "How well do you know Bee" quiz I had posted on facebook. Please leave your answers in the comments. I also know it's Saturday and very few people are sitting at home on their computers this weekend so I don't expect too many people to take the quiz but I hope those that stop by give it a try. I don't think a single person will get 100%. Not even Andy. Which, by the way, is asking me too many questions too early in the morning! "What are you typing, Bee?" "Did you take the dogs out, Bee?" "What time are we leaving, Bee?" "Blah blah blah blah, Bee?" "Why are you being so moody, Bee?"

I don't care how much my blood pressure rises, I am not giving up coffee OR Andy! We look like vampires.(don't ask)

1)
What color suits me best?

a)
Red

b)
Doomsday Black

c)
Multicolored Polka Dots

d)
Orange Sherbert

e)
Green limekini

2)
What time am I usually in bed by?

a)
Too late midnight

b)
Andy the warden 10:30

c)
Old lady 9pm

d)
I don't sleep

e)
Purple

3)
What am I scared of?

a)
My boss (yeah, right!)

b)
The bats I work with (nope)

c)
Babies with guns

d)
Homer Simpson

e)
The color pink

4)
My favorite drink is ________.

a)
Blood

b)
The color purple

c)
Ice cream

d)
poodles

e)
Vanilla coke

5)
Who is my favorite Disney character?

a)
Grumpy

b)
Stumpy

c)
Ben dover

d)
Sugar

e)
Cinderella

Well shiver me timbers and blow me down! (That Popeye was such a perv!)

Sometimes things happen that make you wonder how you'll be able to find an ounce of humor in that specific situation.

You sit at your desk and you cock your head to the side thinking “well, maybe this is one of those ‘life lessons everyone is always blathering on about” then you shift in your chair because the slight unevenness of the floor is making you lopsided and you really need to brood over the recent events. Being distracted by one butt cheek being higher than the other is unacceptable.

After you adjust your sitting position and have a sip of your water, which is now lukewarm because you were too distracted to drink it before, you go back to wondering about life’s injustices.

“Maybe I did something horrible and Karma wanted me to repent for my behavior towards my fellow men/women?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have added those few drops of dish washing soap in the office toilet bowl just to see what fun would ensue?” (All I have to say is BWAHAHAHAHA!!!)

“Maybe I should take Milton seriously when she tells me she tip-toes throw muddy spots when she’s walking to work so as not to create back-splash that will ruin her pants, you know, instead of laughing my ass off?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have sent a picture of someone I know to my friends and family saying ‘If Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite and Napoleon’s uncle had a baby he would look just like this guy!’?”

“Maybe I should have let my Andy have that last slice of pizza?”

As these things are forming tiny thought bubbles over your head, you realize you have to shift again because the chair has rolled ever so slightly to the divot on the left.

You sadly re-examine your life and wonder if it is finally time for you to change your ways. Yep. Karma is telling you that you must look within/into/onto/over yourself because your evil ways will no longer be tolerated and you will suffer all sorts of repercussions for your actions!

After all, what other rational explanation could there be for your mom having an iPhone before you do?

(That contraption is a tortilla maker because my mom rocks!)

And to top it off, you call your spouse and give him the opportunity to be a part of your one person pity party and instead he... or SHE asks how much money you have saved from your allowance to buy your own and when you say $60 they laugh in your ear and suggest you look into toe waxing as a part time job then bites your head off because you’re bothering him eh or HER at work. Granted you’ve done the same to him-her but it’s cute when you do it. His refusal to provide at least an ounce of sympathy has you planning how to best hurt him er, you know, HER when they get home. Then you stop your thoughts in their tracks because you realize this is how your bad karma begins! So really it’s not your fault because there is obviously no way you can control people provoking you into being bad.

Damn you karma and your tunnel vision!!

... ... What were we talking about?

Anyway, here are a couple of pictures of my hair. The pictures do not do the color justice.

Please excuse my puffy face. It was early in the morning, salt, water retention, hangover, you know.

The color this time around is more burgundy than red which is awesome!

This weekend, I learned my family thinks I'm mentally incapable of doing things on my own and also, nuns can seem to sense the evil in me. Nuns and babies.

Last Friday I went to the same stylist who gave me the red highlights last year and had him do them again. This time I went alone since Crazy Ez had gone the day before. I didn’t remember exactly where the place was but the directions didn’t look too complicated so I embarked on my voyage with a falalala in my heart and mapquest on my lap.

The day before my adventure, my mom had said she would come with me, when I told her the process took 3-4 hours she gulped and hesitated. I told her she didn’t have to come with and then she said she didn’t feel right letting me go by myself.

Me:
Uh, mom? I am 36 years old. In the eyes of the law, I can venture out without an adult.  

Mom:
I know but I’d feel guilty not knowing if you were okay.

Me:
You and Nancy travel all over the place by yourselves! Why is it a big deal for me to go somewhere on my own?

Mom:
I don’t know, it just is.

Then Andy.

Andy:
Your mom isn’t going with you? You are going alone? BY YOURSELF?

Bee:
Cheese n crackers people! I was walking home from work alone, late at night, in the mean streets of Chicago before any of you even knew what danger was! Driving to a suburb in broad freakin daylight should not be a problem!

Apparently my family gets nervous when I'm left to my own devices. They had me feeling like the mentally ill family member who can't be trusted with scissors because I would probably find a trampoline and jump around until I stabbed my neck. That is insulting beyond description. Sure it took me about ten loop-dee-loops to find the place and I kept passing it up but at least I got there! It was kinda funny because I had my sister and Big Tex on the phone looking up my location and I decided to pull into a strip mall to wait for further instructions when I noticed the big sign for the Beauty Shop. I stumbled upon the joint all accidental-like.

My hair looks awesome by the way.

That same day, over dinner, my mom shared another missing puzzle piece.

When I was 15 and UNRULY (according to my mom but I think she just needed to have a beer every once in a while to mellow out), my mom and godmother decided it would be a good idea to send me off to a boarding school convent thing (to exorcise the demons within I assume). My godmother, being an ex-nun (who SUPPOSEDLY married a Fitzgerald as in John Fitzgerald Kennedy Fitzgeralds -whatever, I didn’t believe it either), pulled some strings to get me an interview in this very prestigious boarding school in Guadalajara Mexico.

I don’t remember much of the interview with THE NUNS (other than they being all frowny faced) but after it was done, they sent me out of the room and spoke to my mom and godmother alone. That place gave me the heebie jeebies! It was dark and creepy and all I could think of was finding a way to escape.

We left shortly after and I never returned. I assumed my mom had been appalled by the prison-like facility and changed her mind but the reality was different. It seems the nuns said “No thank you!” to yours truly and I didn’t find out until this weekend. I asked my mom why she hadn’t shared this information earlier and she said she hadn’t wanted to upset me. I then asked her if she was aware I had a blog and that this juicy information was like gold!

It seems the nuns feared my American-nes and thought I might disrupt the rest of their students and maybe bring unholy ideas into their sanctuary. Some may look at this as a rejection but I think this just solidifies my badass status.

My mom still enrolled me in a regular catholic school though not that it helped much but that is a story for another day.