Monday, April 30, 2012

Noneya and Nacho

A long time ago my friend Lori taught me about Noneya and her brother Nacho.  Their story goes like this...  Lori is talking to me about something private.  In walks Bob.  Bob says, "What are you talking about?"  Lori says, "Noneya."  Bob says, "Noneya?  Who's that?"  Lori says, "Noneya Business.  You know her and her brother Nacho Business."  Get it?  Yeah... I may have been on the receiving end of a Noneya or Nacho once or twice.  It used to annoy me, as I am pretty sure that everything is my business and I cannot stand not knowing something....  but as I walked through my day today, I realized....  Maybe the world's population (or at least my 'hood) need to meet and embrace Noneya and Nacho once in awhile.

I was grocery shopping today at my favorite low cost store, and I ran into a woman I know.  We are not friends and in fact, her daughter is Tabbi's age and I would group her into my "archenemy" category... The Momunists.  You know them, the ones whose collective goal it is to live vicariously through their daughters while making the rest of the world feel inferior.  Alpha Moms.  Helicopter Moms.  Momunists.  I shudder at the thought.  I tried to avoid saying hello, but we came cart to cart and I was forced to fake a smile and say hello.  She then leaps into a passive aggressive diatribe about how Tabbi was cut from our local volleyball club and how is she doing after that heartbreak....  Well, Pretending To Care But Really Being Insulting Lady, she wasn't cut. She made a traveling team (albeit one level lower than Mommy Dearest's daughter's), and she just chose not to play.  Insert Noneya here.  And two, that happened back in November.  If she was cut and still depressed over it five months later, we'd have bigger fish to fry.  By the way, meet my pal Nacho.  Even if she was right and Tabbi was cut, why in God's name would you bring it up like that?  If you want to ask how Tab's doing, feel free (beware of the answer), but don't initiate the question with an insult.  Believe me, Momunist...  your daughter may win on the court, but you can't touch me (or Tabbi for that matter) if you want to have a little verbal sparring match.  Just be glad I have more class than that... even if it was in ALDI. 

Later, I went on to Meijer, and I was putting my goods in my van when an older gentleman walked up to another man and pointed out that his car was parked on the yellow line.  While I recognize that parking between the lines (though not my forte) is the goal, it would never occur to me to go lecture a grown adult about the perils of parking on line.  And before you jump to Good Sam's defense, he was not parked next to the man, and in fact the crooked man in the crooked spot was parked roughly a quarter mile away from any other cars.  So, it made me wonder...  should the crooked man have to justify his parking decisions, or is it another Noneya/Nacho situation?  Is it really our job to be the moral compass of the parking lot, or should we just let the man pack his car and leave? 

I think we (and by we I do include me) spend a lot of time correcting everyone else's faults.  I can give you an opinion (oh, wait...  I am right now) on just about anything everyone else is doing wrong or just doing in general... but maybe we as a society would get along a lot better and need a lot less pharmaceutical intervention if we just let Noneya and Nacho well enough alone.  I know I would prefer it.  (Unless its really juicy, then could you please just tell me?  Thanks.)

Thursday, April 19, 2012

The Juniors Section

If you know me, and by know me, I mean if you've ever seen me in person, you know that I have been out of the Juniors section for awhile now. By awhile, I mean since I was 10. Ok, maybe that is a slight exaggeration, but you get my point. However, even though I am 33 years old and a size 33 (ok, for the record that was another exaggeration), I find myself back in the juniors section... and it is not a good place to be.

Tabbi is a size 3ish. 13 years old, 3 feet tall (that pesky exaggeration again) and a figure that most adults would kill for, meaning a thin waist and a booty... and by booty, I mean it pronounced boo-tay like you would for JLo. So, because of that fab figure.... we have made the leap to the Juniors section. However, I didn't know that our leap was one small step for our kind, one giant leap toward slutdom.

In Juniorsland, they don't just mean clothing size, but the size of the clothing as well. Apparently it is criminal for the Juniors section to offer a bikini where the bottoms fully cover the young lady's hoo hoo (for lack of a better term). God help her if she has hair down there, because its going to show over the top of that joke of a bottom! And the tops... really? Dental floss and triangles makes a top? Maybe if you are 21 and starring on Keeping Up With The (Yes, Rich People Can Be White Trash Too) Kardashians, but not if you are 13 and living in my house! And pants!!! I believe they are technically referred to as pants when the cuffs are on the ground, but the waist is a about 4 inches south of where the border ought to be. And really? Shorts designers.... just because Tabbi has a cute butt does not mean it should hang out of the bottom of her shorts. Remember that phrase "stick it where the sun don't shine?" Let's stop letting the sun shine there, ok?!?!?!

I feel like I need to change the name of this section to from Juniors to Just Hos, because it is no good. In what world should Tabbi be in a size Large when she has nothing on top to speak of? But everything smaller just looks so slut-tastic I can't bring myself to buy it. Maybe its just me and I am not ready for my little girl to grow up, but I don't think so. I think I just don't want her to grow up thinking that the Hooters girls are rocking the most stylish attire. Is that too much to ask?

Wednesday, April 11, 2012


Do you ever have the feeling that you're drowning? You tread water for as long as you can, but the times your head dips under seems to be growing more frequent and your stays under the water are lasting longer and longer? That is how I feel right now... only I am not drowning in water, but in bills. Stupid, annoying, overly inflated freaking bills.

I will admit that I am not the most financially savvy lady. I don't invest, we barely save, and when I worked from home as a scheduler for a financial firm, I chose not to learn what an annuity or mutual fund was and I still stand by that decision. I don't care. Why? Because we don't have enough to put in one of those anyway (unless they are fancy terms for jelly jar... because I do have change in one of those on my kitchen counter and I contribute to it daily). But, if money comes my way, I am not a ninny either.

We won the Mega Millions lottery when it was 640 million... but unfortunately, not the main prize. But, we won a little and it went to a gate in our fence and getting the trim painted on our house. I pay off credit cards with tax refunds. The only fun thing I've ever done with a cash windfall (aka large tax refund) was put a sizable down payment on my minivan. Wooo... crazy gal! My house is lovely but modest, my furniture old and showing it, and I sewed the butt of my 3 year old capri pants shut when it split because I can't afford to buy a new pair. (And for the record, I can't sew). We are a family of five living on my husband's income... and it shows. But we get by.

Or at least we got by until recently. Our health insurance is an absolute joke and unfortunately, our health isn't kidding around. While all medical issues have been managed (thank the lord), they've left our bank account hemorrhaging long after. We have a $7,000 annual deductible before even so much as a tissue at the doctor's office is covered, and if that isn't bad enough... they take $800 a month from my husband's check to pay for the nothing they cover. So, when Will needed ear tubes last year in order to preserve his hearing from the massive infections and multiple ear drum ruptures.... we did it. Out of pocket. Thousands. We are still paying that off. And when something ran amok in my lady parts (insert gag here), we got an ultrasound to see what. Out of pocket. Over one thousand. And when Will had asthma attacks so bad he was nearly hospitalized, we treated it with medications. Lots. In the hundreds. And to maintain his ability to inhale oxygen, we still treat it. Monthly. In the hundreds. And to maintain some of Tabbi's issues we treat her. Monthly. In the hundreds. And when the surgeon said I should have my tonsils out, I did it. Once. Out of pocket. In the thousands. And while all these medical bills are adding up, for some reason our mortgage company still wants paid, and our car payment, insurance, water, gas, electricity, even our kids' school lunches.... all these providers still seem to think we have money to pay them when the stack of medical bills on my desk nears double digits in the thousands.

I am making minimum payments everywhere, which we all know gets you nowhere... and I am drowning in a sea of papers and 800 numbers calling that I ignore because I don't know what's worse... telling them the check's not in the mail or just hiding. I have never been this out of control of something in my life and today.... today my credit card was declined for the first time. Luckily, it was a fluky thing and will be up and running tomorrow, but still... I am a control freak out of control, and a life preserver won't keep me afloat in this one.