leslieism

Have you ever been in the Grocery Outlet, letting your child spend the $5 gift card she won from a coloring contest aaaannnnddd forgot that you put some medication, in the form of a pill, in your pocket?  Then did you pop that pill like the piece of gum you thought it was and bite down aggressively to begin your gum chewing?  Did you immediately taste possibly the worst, most bitter taste you have ever tasted….realize what you had done and quickly form a game plan to get it out of your mouth fast?  Were you standing behind your daughter as she looked at toys….did you put your hand to your mouth and spit in it?  Did you dig out the chunk that was stuck in your back molar and spit again?  Were you standing in the aisle with a handful of spit and broken pieces of pill…gagging on the bitter taste still in your mouth while looking for a place to hide the evidence of your stupidity?  Was the only place you could find to stash your stash…the floor, under the bottom shelf?  Did you look all shady, like a shoplifter?  Did your tongue go numb and cause a bit of concern….debating on whether a call to the 24hr nurse hotline was in order?  Did you leave the Grocery Outlet and get a surge of guilt, thinking that a child may eat your spitty pill off the floor?  Were you relieved when the numbness finally left your tongue hours later? I may or may not have had this happen to me today.

Have you ever had a major crush on a guy, like a Cosmo worthy crush…..on a younger guy? 8 to 10 years younger?  Have you ever been a MILF that turned into a MIAF(c’mon peeps figure that one out)?  Alright, so you hook up with this young hottie and very quickly you become his M….drop the ilf.  

Seriously, I got a text asking how to get a stain out of a shirt and after throwing out a few suggestions…I received an “LOL” and asked if I could just pick up the shirt and do it for him.

1.  Um NO! and 2. Just because I am a mom, doesn’t mean I’m good at laundry.

Let’s make this situation stranger….I have continued to get booty call texts(booty CALL texts….ahhh teens of today).  A degree in psychology is not necessary to psychoanalyze this Oedipus complex mess.

Psychoanalyze me, or not because I already have and it’s not pretty, I did not stop talking (texting) to him.  Ultimately, whateves….a young hottie with no strings attached (except when he is playing with his yo yo) and definitely no feelings/emotions involved(except for when I feel like he should be grounded for ruining his good shirt) it really is the ideal situation.

Hey Cosmo, thank you so much for the great ideas on how to meet men!!  The arcade is brilliant….it never would have crossed my mind to meet a man at an arcade.  My favorite suggestion and one that I fully intend on trying out….meeting men at beer gardens.  Beer gardens, like you pointed out, are not at all like being at a meat market of a bar.  Well, they kind of are…but since they are outdoors and have garden in the name it’s totally different.  I also applaud you on the idea of bringing a game, such as Jenga, with me to the garden of beer and men…I mean why wouldn’t a guy want to play a game, that is not at all weird.  I don’t own Jenga…..but I do own UNO……do you think the guys would go all Freud on me and assume I have solidarity issues and that I may be too independent of a woman, if I bring UNO instead of Jenga??  Forget it, I will just bring Jenga, end of story.  Anyhow, thank you sooo much for your great advice.  If I keep reading your amazing and profound articles, I may  snag myself another husband in no time.  And he will be ecstatic over the mind blowing sex tricks I continue to learn from you.  Thank you Cosmo, I have new reasons for living.

I love playing dirty, literally, I love playing in the dirt and mud.  I feel most pretty when I’m dirty…..the dirtier I am the prettier I feel.  Sounds very bizarre, yet this has always been the case for me.  Trying to psychoanalyze myself and my dirty ideals, I realize the simplicity on which they are based upon. 

After playing softball, people are focused on my cloak of filth, my bleeding leg, bruised arm and possibly my sweat cologne.  They are so preoccupied with what they physically see and perhaps smell they do not judge my face or body…at least not on a beauty basis.

I watched a documentary tonight about happiness.  A beauty queen was run over by a truck….destroying half of her beauty queen face.  The husband left her.  The woman started remembering suppressed memories, throughout her 30 some operations.  She remembered her father raping her.

Skipping ahead, this amazing woman is happier than she has ever been in her life.  She is remarried to a man that sees her true beauty.  This woman’s smile…..well, it’s contagious and it makes her glow.

Moral of the story??  It’s really just a reminder to not judge a book by it’s cover.  Also, I wonder if people understand how beautiful they become when they smile?  I wonder if people understand how ugly they become when they are mean and judgmental?

I also wonder if I will ever be able to look at myself in the mirror (when I’m clean) and not cringe.  When I’m dirty and I look in the mirror…..I get all swaggy.  Regardless of cringing or swagging…..I am a happy girl.  I am a happy girl that does not need beauty approval by anyone, especially a man.  One day I will find a man that sees my true beauty.  

Tomorrow I am going to investigate local schools for blind men.

String cheese and carrots?! Really!?  The week I start my period, on a full moon none-the-less, I choose to shop healthy!!?  Man, I feel as if I would do just about anything for some hot fudge….dipping carrots in ranch is not even remotely filling that chocolaty void.  I want chocolate so badly that I cannot sleep.  I’m eating a spoonful of peanut butter hoping…well, I guess hoping I can trick myself into thinking I’m eating a Reese’s peanut butter cup.

I have to go to court next week and it’s triggering all sorts of madness within me.  Anxious, resentful, angry and then sad.  Very, very sad.  Fear is following very closely to sadness…if sadness was driving in front of fear, it would keep brake-checking fear…that is how much fear is up sadness’s ass.

I never wanted to get divorced or have a broken family.  The fact of the matter though, whether married or divorced, our family was broken.  This is the sad part. 

The scary part? Trying to re-build my life after the divorce.  Trying to be a mother and a father.  Trying to make the best decisions for my child without a husband to discuss the issues with.  Trying to provide for my child without the income from the husband.  Trying to not act scared, when something is scary, because my child needs to see that she is safe with me, even though I secretly wish the husband was there to protect us. 

The scarier part?  Thinking I may not ever meet someone else.  Thinking I may meet someone else but won’t care because I’m too tired to care.  Thinking my daughter may not ever have a father.

I realize I am a little emotional presently, due in part to menstruation, a full-moon, and the absence of any sort of delicious treats.  The good news?  Emotions are not reality; these emotions will pass and I will soon be feeling happy and grateful again.

Tonight I concluded that learning from mistakes is an opportunity we should not let pass us by. Therefore, I will most definitely remember that hiding chocolate is a most appropriate action.

Seriously contemplating prostitution or swallowing balloons filled with heroin to smuggle across the border……these are the thoughts good parents think, when faced with money troubles….good parents make sacrifices and are willing to do anything to take care off their offspring.  Usually the sacrifices are not so extreme….becoming a whore or drug runner are “worst case scenarios”.

DISCLAIMER***I may be divorced, but, I AM NOT VULNERABLE, LONELY, OR DESPERATE! I was told that no one would love me or really care about me….guys were only gonna wanna f*ck me. I told them they were wrong. Sad that I am starting to believe them. Or rather, shame on the ones that are proving him right!! I have plenty of good people in my life, I am not lonely. I like hanging out with myself, I am not lonely. Please feel free to delete yourself if your only my “friend” with hopes of getting my number. I personally am gonna start deleting people that will not take no for an answer or don’t treat me with respect. BOOM!! BOUNDARIES BITCHES…AND I JUST DREW MY LINE!!!

TO BE CONTINUED…………….This is what my rant was going to be about this evening, however, I’m too tired to rant, hence the “to be continued……”.

For those of you who read my blog, and according to my stats there have been 37 views today, which either means that at least 37 people are reading my blog orrrrrrr, if it counts me as a “viewing” every time I check my blog and stats, well then, maybe 7 people are reading this stuff….maybe 8.  

Regardless of the numbers, because if it does count me as a number each time I view my own words then I would like to disregard that fact and pretend like I never mentioned the possibility of being my own stat.

So, tonight when I get off work, it will be a Friday night and I have no plans and no child aaannnnddd something has been bothering me and I’m getting a little riled up and when I get riled up…..well, some of my best work comes from my riled up mind.  

Therefore, I hope to see all 7 or 37 of you on my viewing stats tomorrow….I will appreciate it and so will you, hopefully….unless you area guy, because it may get you all riled up….but if you are a guy who gets all riled up about what I am going to write about tonight, then what I’m writing about doesn’t even pertain to you…so you will be able to just read it and not feel the need to defend mankind.

There should be treasure boxes at the gynocologist office. Kids get plastic rings or stickers for having no cavities. I think a lollipop is in order after being violated.

Tonight a customer told me I smelled so good he couldn’t believe my husband let me out of the house, because someone might try and steal me.  I replied, “I guess he didn’t care much for my perfume…….he preferred one called, ‘Scent of Another Woman’….it’s cheap, stinky and you can purchase it at gas stations”.

Deceber 18, 2011

What a crazy year! Going on tour with Justin Bieber as his ASL interpreter during concerts was an enriching experience. I was “found” by a recording studio and they thought I really had what it takes to be an ASL recording artist. It was a fresh, new idea…..however, it never took off. We were told, “it doesn’t make sense”, to make an ASL cd for the deaf community. 
Well, I gave it my best, but obviously needed to move on. This was merely the beginning of my adventures……

March 15, 2012

Confession time. Soooooo, ya know how I said I went on tour with Justin Bieber, as his interpreter during concerts? Well, I lied a little…..to him. I don’t even know American Sign Language. His poor deaf fans were probably so confused…..I literally have no idea what I said to them. I take that back, I spelled my name a few times and I’m pretty sure I flipped them off occasionally. Phew, that feels good to get off the ol’ chest.