All Hail the Queen

Queen Victoria is famously known for saying, "We are not amused!" And meaning it...

Like the rest of the world, I have been watching and discussing all things British lately, especially William and Kate's wedding and their shocking royal relatives. Recently I became enamoured of a British idiom that I just knew my loyal followers would be delighted to learn (all 3 of you-thank you very much!!!). I accidentally discovered this idiom by watching my new fav reality show Pregnant in Heels with the very sensible Brit star Rosie Pope who is concierge to some of NYC's most uber rich (i.e. uber ridiculous) moms to be. While listening to Rosie discuss her clients, she kept referring to "Queen Victoria." What??? Come again....???? Until it hit me: Rosie was referring to the VIJAJAY (whackadoodle Oprah strikes again) as QUEEN VICTORIA! Jesus Murphy Malone!!! How perfect is that expression??? Which got me thinking of course... Has there ever been a more powerful politician in the history of the world than QUEEN VICTORIA??? And if you study her pic above, the symbolism is rich. QUEEN VICTORIA may not be much on youth and beauty, but laws, put her behind closed doors and she is a force to be reckoned with.

All hail the QUEEN!

Sunday Night

I missed a very important text from a friend who was having a minor medical emergency on Sunday night because I was busy paying bills and fighting with Mr. B about where the #$%@! the money went?!? (Remember how giddy I was on payday Wednesday???...By Sunday, the fun was O-ver). Well, you married folks know that it takes some time and effort and skill to convince your spouse that it is ALL his fault that the money is GONE. And Mr B was NOT IN THE MOOD for my tricks. So we rolled up our sleeves and had a good ol' fashioned money fight on a Sunday night-the traditional way to end a good weekend. I mean we even missed our favorite TV shows of the week, we were so serious 'bout it. And now that's gonna throw me off my TV schedule. And y'all know how serious I am bout my shows. BTW the Jersey housewives come on TONIGHT!!! Anyhoo... So of course I had to eventually apologize for being such a crazy b*tch. And laws that takes longer than the fight itself... Mercy! I told Mr B he'd just better hurry and win the lottery and get us an f'n accountant to worry about that nonsense. Ain't money just irritatin'???

Anticipation

So Honey (Mr B's mama) calls me up this morning: "Have you seen my pickled egg recipe?!?" Well, hmmm, no...and I'm not sure that I want to. I have never been accused of hording a pickled egg recipe before, and in my defense, I am bout 40 years too young to even want this recipe. Yeckkkkkk! So Honey informs me that she's going to start putting all her recipes in a box on top of her fridge from here on out so the next time she calls I am to remind her of this. And as a good DIL, I gladly agree to be her memory agent before she hustles me off the phone in a tizzy to find this recipe. And for the record: I am NOT looking forward to this pickled Easter disaster. Speaking of retro recipes: how cool is that ad??? Not sure what it is but I am sure Honey would know.

Lil brother has been counting down the days til Easter because he is uber excited about getting a eukele lesson from his cousin. Lil brother won his eukele at a scouting silent auction, much to my dismay and trepidation. (We all know that I do not support the musical arts in the confines of my own home. No classical musician will be gracing Carnegie Hall from this residence-thank you very much. My nerves CAN. NOT. TAKE. IT.) Unfortunately the eukele did not come with a lesson book so lil brother's been making up his own songs. Laws, y'all...the eukele may be small, but it is big on annoying. So actually I am anxiously awaiting the eukele lesson as well. It can only get better from here...or it's going in a yard sale.

Easter Blurb

So I got reading glasses and a mammogram this weekend... for @#$! sakes... Whatcha gonna do but embrace it??? Mr. B however did say that I look hotttt in my new specs. And I'm just gonna go with that. Anyhoo.... I decided that some retail therapy was in order. And since I just got paid that means I'M RICH!!! ...that is until 'the man' comes and gives it all away to those rich f*ckers at the bank... But on to less irritating topics: I actually enjoyed grocery shopping today. Going to my fav ghetto grocery store on the wrong side of town on a Thursday morning has its benefits. I had the whole place to myself. Not a MILF wannabe in sight... or their irritating kids for that matter. FYI: I am making an Asian slaw and a spinach artichoke dip to take for my contribution to the Easter family meal. Sounds fab, huh?!?

Also I bought lil brother some new duds cause he was looking like a raggedy orphan lately. He got a tshirt with some hard core looking penguins on it and some new kick @ss tennis shoes since he's been cutting me some slack lately and not kicking my @ss with his usual tricks. I also bought him my FAV childhood book of ALL TIME: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'engle. He and I are gonna read it together at the beach this summer. Can't wait...!!!

However my 'funnest' purchases were from the thrift/junk store: 3 antique tins in a beautiful bright red color palette (for my kitchen!) and a black santa claus. He is sooooo adorable! He reminds me of our Uncle Joe who is the BEST UNCLE EVER. My boys are gonna love it. Makes me smile just thinking 'bout it.

Hope y'all have a happy and blessed Easter!

Easter Blurbs

So I got reading glasses and a mammogram this weekend... for @#$! sakes... Whatcha gonna do but embrace it??? Mr. B however did say that I look hotttt in my new specs. And I'm just gonna go with that. Anyhoo.... I decided that some retail therapy was in order. And since I just got paid that means I'M RICH!!! ...that is until 'the man' comes and gives it all away to those rich f*ckers at the bank... But on to less irritating topics: I actually enjoyed grocery shopping today. Going to my fav ghetto grocery store on the wrong side of town on a Thursday morning has its benefits. I had the whole place to myself. Not a MILF wannabe in sight... or their irritating kids for that matter. FYI: I am making an Asian slaw and a spinach artichoke dip to take for my contribution to the Easter family meal. Sounds fab, huh?!?

Also I bought lil brother some new duds cause he was looking like a raggedy orphan lately. He got a tshirt with some hard core looking penguins on it and some new kick @ss tennis shoes since he's been cutting me some slack lately and not kicking my @ss with his usual tricks. I also bought him my FAV childhood book of ALL TIME: A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'engle. He and I are gonna read it together at the beach this summer. Can't wait...!!!

However my 'funnest' purchases were from the thrift/junk store: 3 antique tins in a beautiful bright red color palette (for my kitchen!) and a black santa claus. He is sooooo adorable! He reminds me of our Uncle Joe who is the BEST UNCLE EVER. My boys are gonna love it. Makes me smile just thinking 'bout it.

Hope y'all have a happy and blessed Easter!

Little Miss

I'd like to tell you about one of my favorite-and youngest-friends. Her name is Little Miss. Little Miss is five years old, sports an adorable blond bob, loves Jesus, her tiara collection, cats, skettio's, and dropping the f-bomb. Yup. That's right. As in, "These skettio's are too f'n hot!" Little Miss drops her f-bombs with aplomb and dead on precision-much to her mother's horror. However, I am totally letting Little Miss's mother off the hook since she is an exhausted school teacher who spends an inordinate amount of time trying not to kill other people's children while maintaining classroom order and some of her personal dignity-on any given day. So yes, gentle readers, the harsh reality is that teacher kids are more often exposed to exploding f bombs per capita than their peers. It's just an educational inevitability. So whatcha gonna do??? My advice is to go ahead and confess Little Miss's potty mouthed transgressions to the Episcopalians. No need having that hang over your head dreading that Little Miss's next utterance is gonna be THE. ONE. I'm all for taking the bull by the horns and blaming it on the big brother who learned it from the ex-husband. And getting HIS name on the prayer list. FAST.

Sick Man

Mr B informed me today that there are two professions that I would totally suck at and should never attempt: being a nurse and being a hooker. He said this from his sick bed while feverishly moaning through cracked lips. And I cheerfully agreed with him-while keeping my sanitary distance. Sickly, needy, desperate people are sooooo annoying. And don't even get me started on body fluids... Mr B would have you think that I am a cold hearted personal assistant. Well, sooooo..... OK-I'm not Florence Nightingale. I didn't lay his fevered head on my bosom while dabbing his brow with cool alcohol while murmuring French words of love and healing. And besides, not soon after I delivered his Ibuprofen and water and cold cloth, he starts talking dirty and pawing me. Now how sick is that?!? I probably should have called Honey (his mother) to come over and nurse him back to health. She would have shoved a banana down his throat, plugged up his nose with Mentholatum, scalded his face with a hot cloth, wrapped him in a melted plastic blanket from the microwave, and talked his ears off for hours about all those annoying old people who live in her condo who feed the squirrels and let their visitors park in resident's spaces. The fact that I didn't proves how kind and caring and compassionate I really am. Although I still will not touch a sick person with a ten foot pole...

PLOT

So I overhear lil brother shout to his friend from the front door, "Just go to your house and wait! It's gonna take me a while to convince my mom to let you come in and play." Dammit.... There is always a plot underfoot over here at blither blather headquarters-not necessarily very subtle ones at that. ...And yes, I did eventually cave. So fine-put me on the pushover list.

Twice this evening I have gone searching and hollering through the 'hood for lil brother (I usually make big kid do the leg work...sigh....where is he when I need him?!? !@#$). NOTHING pisses me off more than looking for kids or dogs. Makes me wanna get out the belt and wear you OUT. Seriously-you better run and hide if you see me marching down the street in my fuzzy bathrobe, hair in a pony tail, shouting your name. So Mr B calls me in the middle of my meltdown about the disappearing kid, and I inform him that I am locking all the doors BECAUSE. I. AM. DONE. LOOKING. My cold, emotionless tone makes Mr B a lil nervous on lil brother's behalf, so he gets on his cell phone and VOILA! manages (from across town, mind you) to track down lil brother who is two houses down from me. Clearly my detective skills suck.... Anyhoo!... Mr B calls me back to let me know that lil brother will be home PRONTO (like getting a heads up is gonna save him NOW....), and I inform him that I MIGHT let him come in... OR. NOT.

Bottom line: lil brother has had his shower and teeth brushing and is now in his bed....AND NO TV!!!....all before 7:48 PM. Lil brother is meekly and respectfully grateful for escaping imminent death and torture from a mom who had clearly gone to the dark side.