Perfectly Un-Perfect

*ahem*
This post has been deleted by the author.

DRAMA FREE my (_i_)

Here Ye Here Ye!

Thou shalt acknowledge that thy male counterpart is substantially more emotionally broken then ye!

Or something like that.

It's been a while since I have had such insight into the male brain. 

Ladies, boys are considerably more (or equally as) broken then we are.

Being back on the dating scene isn't much fun.  *sigh*  It's the same scumwads that have been hanging around the joint for the last 2 1/2 years.  It's odd to receive emails stating, "Hey! You're back!  How ya been?  Things didn't work out with Bacon? That's too bad.  Wanna get a drink tonight?"

Really? No.

Anyhow, the boys that I'm learning to avoid are the ones that state they are "DRAMA FREE".  :raising eyebrow: Not so much.

As females, we tend to have drama from past relationships.

But boys hang onto stuff from their childhood. 

I once dated a guy whose mother left him at a very young age.  He was raised happily by his grandparents.  He reached adulthood, got married, had a child... and then discovered that he had siblings whom he never knew existed.  Now, I can't imagine not having been raised by my mother.  Or feeling abandoned.  And no, this guy never vocalized either of these concerns in great depth, we only touched on them lightly during a few brief conversations. 

Said relationshit progressed, Y-chromosome spoke of co-habitation (woah) and then ::boom:: it was done.

Ok.

*blink blink*

For some reason, I have been attracted to severely broken males in the past. 

Ones with "mommy" issues, practically still hanging from the teet. 

No more of that...

And no more of the ones that hate their mother's either. 

Or the ones who don't know who their mother is.

Or the ones who won't forgive their mother's flaws.

Or the ones who still live with their mother.

How does one lose a sucker fish?

I'm a pretty good fish owner. I feed them, I clean the tank often... hell, I even rearrange their plants from time to time to mix it up a little for them. (I can only imagine that being a fish is rather boring. Nothing like a big ole' hand coming into your tank to scoot your plants around every few weeks to get the fishie heart racing!)



Last night was a routine cleaning: Remove a good portion of the water, rinse off plants, change filter, etc.



I don't stick my hand into the tank for fun, trust me. My guppies aren't afraid of people and they will swim in between your fingers and actually nibble at your fingers. :shudder: Hrm.. Anyhow, I've had a "sucker fish" for the last 3 years. Ugly thing, but he serves his purpose.



Last night, he wasn't there. (O_o)



I practically stuck my head into the half empty tank, flipping over the pebbles, shiny stones, plucking plastic plants out of the blue gravel, tipping over *fish toys and he was gone!



How does one lose their freaking sucker fish?!



Here's what he looked like.














Lemme know if you see him, he's in big ass trouble for not leaving a note.



*Fish Toys: While my fish can't actually play with toys, they enjoy swimming through holes... believe it or not. So their tank is equipped with a stone-like cave that they can swim through and frolick in.

My boss is way cooler than yours!

That is all.

☺

Bad commute gone good!

Sometimes, my weekly commute makes me borderline crazy.

Two days a week, I drive from Orange County to The 909 to pick up & drop off my girls. One day a week, I leave my house at 6:45 am to reach The 909 by the time Maddie's school starts, and then race back to OC to drop off Catherine and make it to work on time. And then the other day, I have a 3 hour round trip to pick them up after work. *sigh*

These trips often wear at my self-control and sanity... chipping away at both mile after mile.

On one particularly difficult morning, I felt like crying the entire commute. It had started to rain, several lanes on the blasted 57 were closed and I had forgotten my coffee on the kitchen counter. Awful stuff, I tell you. . . *tisk tisk*

Anyhow, somewhere on the 210 fwy, I looked up and saw this:

I captured the scene with my phone and glance at it from time to time for strength during particularly frustrating or sad times.

You're welcome.

Ü

The Huntington Beach Tar Pits

I betcha' didn't know that good ole' Huntington Beach has it's own tar pits, huh?





For some reason, each and every blasted time I visit this dirty sand/water hole, I come home with tar on my feet.





Today, I figured I'd outwit the Tar Monster and not go in the water. Aha! Sometimes, I'm so clever. *sigh*





I was laying on my belly reading (don't ask me what...*edwardandbellacough*), watching the girls play in the water. I was mindlessly shuffling my feet in the sand... And felt something stick to my foot.





NO FREAKING WAY...!! *augh*





















T A R



Honestly, I was shocked. In my girl brain, if I stayed out of the water.... I wouldn't end up "tarred" again. Lordy.



OH NO!! I felt something on my other freaking foot!! NOOooOOooOoOO!!



















*Author's Note: Yes, that is my left foot, not my hand. I am able to spread my toes much further, but didn't want to freak you all out... I can pick up such household items as blankets, toys and on occasion golf balls.



So.



I bet you are wondering how to remove said tar from one's body, aren't you?



Pumice stone.



But first, you have to let it dry until it's hard... kinda like stale gum. *grimace*



Ask me how much fun it was to cram the pumice stone in between my toes.



Delightful I tell you.



My children and I will only be swimming in Newport's water from now on.

The Sheri Map

North: Alaska



South: Mexico



East: Mom's House



West: Supposed to be the freakin' beach



I don't care how long I have lived in Orange County, I will never understand why the beach isn't West like it is on the map.



*grr*



I hate getting lost.

Helicopter invasion

I have low-flying helicopters in my home.

Someone told me that these unsightly disgusting flying things ate mosquitos, so I have been doing my part to save nature and haven't been squishing them.

Turns out, they don't eat mosquitos. In fact, they don't eat at ALL! (No wonder they're so freaking skinny. I'm just sayin...)

I pretty much hate them. They watch me take showers, buzz around my lamps and don't even have the decency to flush themselves once they fall into the potty. I'm afraid to sleep with my mouth open because I just KNOW that one is going to fly into it. G R O S S

Anyhow, after much research... I say: Let the squishing begin!! :D

I rescued my 5 year old from being carried away by this dude. (Think -the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz.) I squished him with my favorite Old Navy flip flop.

Ü

Go me!

word of the day

Shubby [shub-EE]

-adjective

Definition: Chubby Sheri

..ihavefreakinghadit..

*Coming soon to a closet near me: Smaller Clothes.

I'm crazy enough to blog about this journey. *shrugs* Stay tuned.

..do you feel a breeze?

So... I'm standing at the copier and the following conversation takes place...

Boss: Hey, do you know that you have a hole in the back of your jeans...?

Me: Shut up, I do not... Wait, are you serious...?

Boss: Are you wearing underwear? *laughing*

Me: YES I'm wearing underwear!! *gasp*

Boss: Doesn't look like it!

Me: OH MY GAWDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!

I ran into my office, took this picture... and then drove home and changed my jeans...

*blink blink* WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

Aaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnddddddddd.........

I'm back!!

*yawn*

::stretch::

After a brief blogcation, here I am.

Lucky you. ;)