PMS & Sythetic Balls

This month's PMS is brought to you by Martyrdom.

I'm tired, yo. And I feel a little overwhelmed. I feel a little undervalued. Not by the blog world. Not by my coworkers. Not by my kids - ok, a little by them. I'll give you a hint. He's tall, dark, good looking. We share the same name. We live under the same roof? And those are the only clues I'm going to give you! So, yea, That Guy. Mandy and I have a decade-long joke that whenever I'm mad at Husband, I call him That Guy. Anyway, you can't really complain about That Guy on a blog because when you're done being mad, he's all, "Why'd you drag me through blogmud?" And I'm all, "You deserved it, MF." And he's all, "Yea, but now I have 10,000 people sending me negative vibes." ('Cause, y'know, that's the size of my readership. Not.) And I'm all, "Oops. My bad." And then I'll have to be the one that's sorry and he'll have turned the tables on me again.

When you complain to your homies, it's vapor release. Your friends take it in stride and say things like, "That sucks!" and "You don't deserve that!" And that's it. That's enough. Unless of course you show up at their doorstep with an overnight bag and a passport. But usually the next day you're all, "Oh, he didn't really mean it like that, Girl. What's for lunch?" But on blog, you can't really just vapor release with the same temporary flair.

I'm pouty, yo! I keep trying to interject my mood with my all-healing salve, "I Am Grateful", but that's just making me want to tell myself to shut the fuck up. Of course I'm grateful. Damn. Ug, I'm tired.

Then my alleged close friend, Honduro shows up yesterday after being MIA on biz trips for 6 months. We have lunch and as a single, childless guy he's all, "Let's do NaNoWriMo! Come on! We can easily write 500 words a day towards a novel!" And I'm all, "Are you fucking kidding me?" Though look, I've blogged every day for the last few days. That's just kind of a coincidence. No hopes are up to continue that, but you never know. Then he's all, "Ok, then let's go to the UCLA football game Nov. 11th." And I go, "That day is Maya's first TaeKwonDo Tournament since last summer's Jr. Olympics." And he kinda looks at me like, Are you sure you don't want to catch the football game? I'm all, "Come on." And he pouts, "I know, Maya's more important." Uh, ya think? See you in another 6 months, Honduro!

Ooo, I feel bitchy, yo.

So, this TKD tournament is coming with much anticipation. Maya's training with Master N and The New Studio has been rather amazing. She really is looking good. It's been a joy to watch her train. TaeKwonDo has kind of enveloped my own schedule though. My beloved walk/Farmers Market/dance class combo has been swallowed up by the girls' Saturday morning workouts. Figuring out where my stuff fits into everyone else's schedule has been, uh, a challenge. On top of? Crammed in the cracks? Midnight? A couple mornings a week I've been getting up at 5:45 to run because if I don't exercise I get mad bitchy. Like now. But many times I'm too tired to work out my own stuff, which is the first stuff lopped when editting the family schedule.

Martyr!

I'm bummed Dia de los Muertos is over. I realized this year that the holiday falls one rung below Christmas for me, and I'm a sentimental sucka for some Christmas. Next year I'm having a huge party I decided. Where you have to dress as your favorite dead person or just in a general DdlM theme. And I'll make vegan pan de muerto with surprises baked in the middle and vegan hot chocolate. And the decorations will be ridiculous. Anyway, you guys are invited.

I feel guilty about complaining. I feel a tiny bit better though, but it's weighted with guilt. I mean, all in all my week was pretty good with all the celebratin' and all. And That Guy did fix my dresser drawers last night.

I saw this young homeless guy yesterday and he was crossing the street with a cart full of stuff. The cart had a tall metal pole attached it and it stood a foot over the guy. Impaled on the pole was a big, fake white dove. I had to look at it three times because I thought the dove was real. It looked like the pole was up its ass and the wings were flapping around as the cart careened across the street. It made me laugh. Also, the NBA season has started which doesn't float my boat as much as college hoops, but triumphantly the NBA has switched from leather to synthetic balls this season. It takes one cow to make only four balls. That's kind of a sickening statistic when you realize how many balls each team uses. Most of the players are complaining about the new ball because it's more slippery when sweated upon. Others think the grip is better. I don't think the NBA did this for the sake of cows. Most likely it was done for big corporate $ reasons, but still. Oh, and I've been taking cat naps on the train. I should be studying, but the naps have helped. Oh, and it's Friday. That's good. I can't really remember what I was complaining about now.