Showing posts with label Mommy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mommy. Show all posts

Thursday, November 8, 2012

A Very Special Blog Post

I hate to get serious, ever, but it's hard for me to laugh about the ridiculousness of living with my dad when I'm actually pissed off...

Daddy is nosy. My mom calls him a yenta. I mostly accept him but it's tough sometimes.


He's been known to ask me inappropriate questions about money. I have no idea how much he makes but he thinks it's fine to ask me how much I make. Whatever.

He has repeatedly asked me, although I have told him many, many times, how much my MBA cost, how much I paid up front, and how much I owe. You know what? He paid for 20% of my graduate degree, which was generous and I did not expect, so if he really needs to know how much I owe in student loans, no big deal.

He also asks me how much I owe in credit card debt, which is patently none of his business. But, it's not that big of a deal to me. I've told my friends and it's not like I have a shopping addiction or something. I just have debt from throwing what constitutes a very modest New York wedding. So fine.

He started getting on my nerves a while ago when he told me, very cautiously at first, that, in his opinion, with a CPA and MBA, I should be making more money.

This pisses me off not because it's nosy, but because it proves that he doesn't know me at all.

Yes, if I sold my soul and went back to public accounting, I could be making a few tens of thousands more than I'm making now. But let's look at the costs:
  • Dreams of becoming a writer. (No time to write when you're working every night and weekends.)
  • Free time to spend with family, friends and husband.
  • Mental and physical health.

Maybe he doesn't care about my writing dreams or free time but the mental health part is non-negotiable. I literally had a nervous breakdown and spiraled into depression at my old job. Guess what? If you can't get out of bed in the morning, your income prospects are severely limited.

Sorry, this is getting really personal. Anyway...

And he seems to think Tom's finances are his business too. So the other day, he's talking to me about how I should really be saving money for a house (because that's all a married woman can dream of, right? No chance I might want to have flexibility to travel?) and I'm nodding and he says:

"And Tom is talking about going to the Olympics in Russia, and I'm like 'Dude, you have $XXX in debt.'"

[Silence.]

Seriously, what the fuck? Does he really think I'm going to take his side over my husband's? And yes, our student loan debt is astronomical. Yes, it's terrible and it's going to take forever to pay off, but what are you saying? We're not allowed to travel for the next 30 years? And I don't even want to go to Russia but he's turning me into a rebellious teenager and now I want to go out of spite!

So I'm stewing, and he continues on about how we'd be surprised how much money we can save if we really try [Trust me, living with Daddy IS trying!] and then he says "You know, it seems to me that you should both be making more money." Enough!!!!

So I say "Daddy, you know, you're getting a little nosy."

And he says "Well, you're living rent-free in my house."

Oh! Didn't know his offer to live with him came with strings attached! 

This is bullshit. Yes, I'm lucky to have him. But I also have a mom and a mother-in-law and a husband's aunt with an empty apartment in Brooklyn and friends and enough money that I could still live on my own (if I never want to pay off my credit card debt) so, you know? Shit, fuck it.

I am tempted to just move out now but Tom is really sick of moving.

I guess I have to have the talk... you know the one, accompanied by sappy music at the end of any very special episode.

Really, my dad just wants to help me make my life perfect. Too bad I've got my own ideas.

Sorry for getting so real with you guys.  To counterbalance this very special post, tomorrow I will post a list of Ms. PC's personal favorite very special episodes.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

6 Things You Forgot About Using The Phone In The 90s

Apologies for not getting my posts out this week but I get a hurricane pass. Daddy got power back yesterday but now the Internet is out. Also went to the library today but their wifi was out too. So I'm typing this on my phone and hoping to upload it in a rare moment of 3G coverage.

So much to talk about. For example...
Crazy gas lines + traffic lights out = full-tilt jungle madness

[Imagine your own Mean Girls gif here. I really can't from my phone.]

Computer edit: try this one.

But my family was very fortunate that we didn't have flooding and none of our persons or property were lost. Daddy's power was out for 4 days and Mommy's has been out for 5 and counting, but we're making the most of it. We've been drinking wine and playing board games at Mommy's every night.

My point is that I have nothing to complain about. However, I am now going to educate you on a little something we call "landlines."


actual phone

We are lucky Mommy kept her old landline from before they got Fios, or we wouldn't even have service. Plus her old corded phone that she dug out of somewhere. And when you can't charge your cell (and then the cell towers go down) it's nice to have a landline. But here are some things you may have forgotten about old school landlines.

1. No caller ID. The phone rings and you have no idea if it's a loved one, a telemarketer, or your stalker. You just pick it up.

1a. Besides not knowing who it is, you also don't know who it's for. At one point we had up to 7 people hunkered down at Mommy's. So you just answer it like "hello?" and then the caller has to, like, say who they are and why they're calling.
Except sometimes they don't. Because they're not used to 90s phones either. So they're just like "Helllloooo having fun???" and you're like "um what?" and eventually figure out it's Aunt Kath's sister in Colorado.

2. Everyone shares one phone. So, if you want to call someone, but someone else is using the phone? You have to... wait.

3. The phone is connected to the wall. So, you can't really walk places. Even if everyone decides to start having a conversation and/or turn up the News Radio 88 right next to you.

4. If you hang up but don't really hang up right... you might hear "If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again..." and if you don't hear that you'll almost definitely hear some super loud beeping.

5. Sometimes, after dialing, you might hear... "All circuits are busy. Please try your call again later." or this weird thing called a busy signal. This has actually been happening kind of a lot.

6. There's no browser on your landline. With no internet, you dial 4-1-1 and tell a recording the name of the person or business whose number you need. You are charged extra for this service because they know you must be desperate.

Seriously not complaining. I actually think its funny to relive my childhood. Makes me grateful for the device on which I wrote this entire post. Oh, and now that I'm done, I found out the internet started working again. But since it's 2am, this is what you're getting.

Feel free to share your most cherished inconveniences of the 90s.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Ladybugs and Omens

When my parents first moved into their house in Huntington, Mommy found ladybugs everywhere, and she felt like it was her mother's spirit looking after her.


an especially ugly ladybug gif

Ladybugs have always been a special symbol of good luck in my family. There was a ladybug on my leg the day my team won the xAct (xTREME Accounting) local case competition at Binghamton (full on nerd in the house - TF3 forever!) And other than that... I can't remember a specific time when ladybugs have really brought luck but I've always liked them and I got a ladybug tattoo on my hip on my 21st birthday and no you can't see it.

On Sunday, Tom and I returned to this house, which is now Daddy's house. And we were greeted by a different insect...

Bees.

Now, in Tom's family, bees are considered bad luck. Well, it's not so much a family superstition as Tom just doesn't like them because he was stung multiple times as a kid and, really, who needs a bunch of bees around?

When Tom and Daddy went to move our mattress, there was one on the mattress cover, which seemed to be injured. Daddy vacuumed him up. Later, I found one on the bathroom window, which Daddy shooed out. Then there was a dead one on one of Daddy's several keyboards.

Finally, we found the source: the nest in our bedroom window. 


Bees.

Daddy said he'll knock it down but he didn't say when. Then he said "This house just seems to attract bees." Bees.

As we were leaving, a bee landed on our windshield. We then went to the park to enjoy the weather for a few minutes...




And as soon as we sat down, three bees landed on our bench.

Bees.

If my mom took the ladybugs as a sign that she was supposed to be here, what are the bees trying to tell me?


Bee Afraid!

Tonight will be our first night staying at Daddy's.

Saturday, October 13, 2012

Mommy's House

Who can resist a look in someone else's house? I used to live at street level on Mott Street, so trust me: no one. It was like living in a freaking store window...

My mom's house is precious, as we say in my family. In fact, we say precious (adj.), preciousness (noun), or preciousing (verb).  As in: "Mommy is preciousing up her dining room." or, the more general: "How precious." (to be said in a mocking tone).

This is a good example of preciousness...
  
precious dolls and dishes above the precioused out window

Here's the dining room...


And one of several wine racks....


Kitchen...


ok, I bought the gourds so maybe I have a little precious in me

Living room...

still using the summer pillows - the winter pillows are much scratchier :(

The small but precious backyard...

the grill cover is Cutie's

Plus her house comes with precious cats like this...

Oreo

Or this....

Twinkie

Or these....

ok, so it's the same two cats

Mommy's house is my favorite place to be. It's always clean and organized, and filled with good food and family and girly movies.

But now... we're off to Daddy's, which as we know from the preview is not so precious. To be honest, I don't even fully know what I'm getting into. I'll keep you updated.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Pier What-the-F

I'm blogging about Pier 1. This is my life now.

Last Sunday, I actually had a whole day to just relax and maybe even get some writing done. So, of course, I got bored.

Tom wouldn't go to the library with me because he was out of clean clothes. (Should I do something about that? Eh, he'll figure it out.)

Finally, I just needed to go somewhere. And there's a Pier 1 right here so...

Three natural reactions to Pier 1:

1. Some people have too much time and/or money and/or space on their hands.

credit                                                credit

According to Pier 1's website, these are called decorative spheres. So it's like a whole thing.

No offense to anyone that might love decorative spheres and think they're the best thing ever, but my mom doesn't even own any of these and she has different couch pillows for different seasons.

2. I can't wait to have a house, or a home office, or just a room.

super cute wall applique that will make my future home office extra girly

you can't tell but this clock is super giant and I want it

3. Uck, that is bleak.

There's a lot of stationery and cocktail napkins with "funny" sayings on them.



must exit suburbs immediately!!!

My big haul:

for the girl with too little time and/or money and/or space

Pocket nail files! 48 cents, y'all! Maybe the smallest purchase in Pier 1 history.

And in conclusion:

Pier 1 embodies everything that is good and bad about the suburbs. And I lovate them for that (excellent new word stolen from saradraws).