Move On, Nothing to See Here.

Last week sucked.  It started with Major Fuck Up Monday and just continued to You Have Got to Be Fucking Me Saturday.  I tried to remind myself that it could be worse.  I had majorly messed up at work but at least I had a job and I had some stressful family events but at least my family was alive and healthy.  I just had to put on my big girl panties, learn from my mistakes and be a strong shoulder for someone else, right?  Yeah, the pity party still started to get into full swing around Wednesday evening complete with "Why me?" tear cocktails (hee hee, I said cock).

However, there was one good that did come out of last week.  I totally smashed my last certification exam!  Oh, and there was also that moment when karma kicked a certain someone in the ass and remind them that they are not perfect either.  Do you think that would change how hard they are on me being perfect?  No but the moment still made me do a little happy dance.

Apologizes

I consider myself very lucky to have the kind of husband I have.  Most women I know seem to constantly complain how their husbands either never or very rarely help out around the house or with the kidlets.  A common statement I hear is, "He just comes home from work and does whatever he wants while I make dinner, take care of the kids and blah, blah, blah."  Whenever I hear this statement two thoughts intantly pop into my head: 1)  He doesn't help because you let him get away with it sweet cheeks, and 2)  Thank Dog my husband isn't like that!

Since the beginning of our relationship, DH and I have always tried to strive for a 50/50 sharing of all responsibilities.  Has it always happend?  No, but we try.  Still, about once a year we have a I'm-doing-all-the-work-around-here-and-all-you-do-is-read/play computer games argument that makes us realize how much the other does that we don't see and this is about the time of year it usually happens because tax season is very busy for me.   Between January 1st and April 15th he is right, he does do more around the house than I do.  He himself works a full time job, takes care of the kidlet, house and the pets.  I do what I can on Sunday, my one day off but yes, there are weeks were I just say FUCK IT and spend the day reading. 

As much as I try to be Wonder Women, I am not.  Right now I work 8-12 hours a day, six days a week and try to spend as much of my free times as I can with my son.  A spotless house is on the bottom of my to-do list so please, please, PLEASE my DH.  Given that all this isn't anything new, be a little more understanding and get the stick out of your ass before I land my invisible jet on top of your ass.

Taste Like Chicken?

The other day I heard someone use the expression "shit-eating grin".  At first I didn't give any thought to it because it is a commonly used expression.  However, this morning it popped into my head as I was fixing my hair and it made me ponder.  Since most expressions are derived from common events at one point in time in the vast human history, when did the human species every eat shit and grin about it?  So, I did a little digging and this is what I have found.

Definition:

(1) n. A shit eating grin is a very wide and, to the outside observer, stupid looking grin, usually showing smugness, self-satisfaction, or inner humor. The term is most often seen in the expression "Wipe that shit eating grin off your face!", usually said by the aforementioned outside observer. This observer-based definition makes "shit eating grin" the negative counterpart to "You look like the cat who ate the canary." While the two expressions describe the same grin, they have very different connotations. This definition has nothing to do with the term "shit eater".

(2) n. Someone donning a forced smile in an uncomfortable, embarrassing, or compromising situation could be said to have a shit eating grin. Because an uncomfortable situation is much more closely related to "eating shit" than smugness, it is plausible to assume that this is the first definition, although far from the most common, and that the above definition is a result of drift from this one.

Both of these uses are documented in the Oxford English Dictionary no earlier than 1957.

As for the origin I found pretty much jack shit.  There was reference to an excerpt from Livy's History of Rome:  Book 21:

"1944 Jrnl. Nerv. & Mental Dis. XCIX. 959 Among demented patients in advanced stages of their illness,..it is not rare to see some of them grasp their own feces, chew them and eat them often with great pleasure and satisfaction (coprophagia).

So, there you have it.  Another bit of useless trivia to tuck away into the back of your brain so the next time someone says they had a shit eating grin on their face you can tell them to get there demented ass to a psychiatrist.

And the Award Goes To...

My four-year-old son!  *thunderous applause*  Yes, yes.  As his mother I am so proud *wipes tear* that he has reached this wonderful acheivment at such a young age.  *sigh*  What was his greatest performance you ask?  It's so hard to choose!  His current temper tantrum over his father taking the last serving of donuts is riveting, edge of your set kind of stuff.  However, his nightly performances are something to behold, or beheard actually.  After a stirring round of tears he so seamlessly goes into an epilouge that has you in tears and your heart wretching for the poor boy.  *sigh*  Yes...so young...so much talent.

Glutton for Punishment

Now, don't get me wrong, I love my husband with all my heart but sometimes I just want to smack the shit out of the bastard.  Somedays I seriously think he has a death wish and he wants me to be the Grim Reaper because there is no other way to reasonably explain why he would be stupid enough to egg me the way he does some mornings.

I'm not a morning person.  I don't even have to try at not being one, it's just one of my many natural talents.  Anyone who knows me knows to not talk to me until I have had my coffee and at least five minutes to sit.  If you even look at me before then, well, it's your funeral and maybe I'll send flowers..maybe.  So, you would think the man I have been married to for over 11 years and known for almost 16 would know NOT to start poking one of my buttons with a stick right away in the morning.  Not even sending our cute little demon spawn to do the dirty work will save him my sleep deprived wrath.  Dumbass mother fucker... 

Maybe now, with his face firmly shoved up his ass and his mouth stuffed with cinnimon roll flavored stones (How hard is it to cook microwavable cinnimon rolls!!!), he will come to realize how much of a dumbassish act of knowingly annoy me the morning after I have worked a six day work week with very little sleep really is.   

A New Obsession is Born

Well, actually, I wouldn't call it a new obsession, more like another way to get my fix with a pre-existing obsession.  I have discovered the world of audio books!  My boss let me borrow her copy of "The Litigators" by John Grisham (not my usually choice of literary poison but I highly doubt my boss reads smut books and if she does, would lend me an audio copy of one) and I am so excited that I can now "read" books that I want to read but always lose out when the choice cums between delicious smut and something non-smutty.

I don't have a long commute, but it is still enough to listen to about a chapter or so on my way to and from work.  Also, I am now actually looking forward to my Wednesday morning drives to a client's that is about 30-45 minutes one way.  A whole new world has opened up to me and it is fan-fucking-tastic!  Gimme, gimme, gimme!

As a side note on the subject of audio books, I got to thinking last night about this whole niche.  Since I'm still very virginish to the whole thing I started to wonder how other books are read, especially smut books.  Is there always only one reader or do some have multiple readers (say and male and a female)?  If they do sell audio smut books, how into character do the readers get?  Do they moan and gasp during the heated scenes, making it like listening to a porn movie?  These are very serious questions people and as my mind was bouncing them around something accured to me.  Audio books are kind of like those antiquical (is that a word?  If it isn't it is now, I just made it up.) radio shows.  How fasinating that with all the technology, with Kindles and Nooks, TV's and Talkies, the best way to experience a story is to either read it yourself or listen to someone speak and form the layout of the scenes yourself. 

Yep, the mind is a wonderfully inventive, twisted muscle.  Of course then I realized I was thinking too damn much and went to bed.

2012: Year of the Honey Badger

I have declared 2012 the year of the honey badger.  Why?  Because I really just don't care.  I am so tired of people whinning and bitching and then not doing a damn thing to fix what they sat and whined and bitched about.  Guess what sweet cheeks, life sucks at some point in time for everyone and, as I see it, you have two choices.  1. DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! or 2.  DON'T DO ANYTHING.  However, if you choose number 2 and continue to bitch to me about it, do not get offended when I tell you to STFU because I don't care to listen to yet another hour of you complaining about the same thing.  It's not that I'm heartless or have no empathy for my fellow human who has fallen on hard times, it's that I have no sympathy for someone who will not try and help themself. 

We always have a choice in life.  It may feel like we don't at times but that is just because one of the options is something we don't want to do or we think is too hard so we dismiss it, but that doesn't mean it's not a choice.