Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

Thank You Mr. Truck Driver

This morning I had to buy gas before coming to work. I am really hating my outfit (I know I get up at four in the morning but I cannot believe that I thought this was cute) and I am messing with it. Pulling at the waist in my pants (so they will hang perfectly), screwing with my hair, etc when I broke into my most hated habit. Talking to strangers. I am an incredibly shy person when speaking to people I know or should know but total strangers can feel like life-long friends. So they guy next to me was treated to chatter--I am sure he was THRILLED.

I confess to him that I am hating my outfit and like all straight men he just looked at me blankly. But as I pulled away he yells out "But at least your ass looks hot!"

As I am driving away I start to get angry. How dare he? That is such a weird thing to say to a stranger. But then I changed my mind, because, after all, if he had complimented my hair I would be skipping. Besides, maybe my ass is hot. So, man with the BVA Trucking hat in the dark green F-150, thank you for the compliment.

An old friend called me last night. This was particularly strange as I haven't actually spoken to this person in about six years. He and I have been mainly email-pals for most of our friendship. I felt kind of bad because he sounds so lost and upset. And in the back of my mind I am getting annoyed with him. He is going to be twenty-five next week and he is completely without any direction. Which is fine. But don't call your penpal and bitch to her about it. Because I will be sympathetic and I was. But if you ask me what I think you should do I will tell you. And I did. Poor guy, I think he thought if he just kept on being a nice guy his life would just work itself out. But it doesn't work that way. You at least have to choose where you want to go.

Not sure whether to tell MLH (my loving husband) or not. Its in my nature to tell him everything but he has always been a little weird about this guy. See my penpal and I lived within a hundred miles of each other for about a year. And in that time we saw each other a couple of times and I have seen him a couple of times after that.

When I was eighteen my friend TT and I believed that if you had sex with a virgin you were immortal (this does not work in reverse, I make horrible jokes about the guy I lost mine with). And my penpal had never had oral sex. I was STUNNED by this. The guy was eighteen with a steady girlfriend and they never had oral sex?? Well they were broken up and one night we got drunk at a little league field. Yea, long story. Anyway, we just went back to the way things were but I guess he told her all about it. Also saying lovely things like she was uptight, etc. So when they got back together (because of course they got back together) it is mild to say this girl HATED me. So every time we would see each other they would get in a fight about it and break up. Which worked out fine for me but only fed her hatred.

At any rate MLH isn't crazy about my penpal. Possibly because he and I are still friends. We never slept together but that doesn't really seem to make a difference. At any rate, it would be my luck that the first time he reads this damn thing would be today so I better not leave it out.

Damn honesty thing.

Last night when I got home there was this message on the answering machine from my mother. She was YELLING into the machine. Now my mother is not stupid but after owning and using an answering machine for something like twenty years she still acts like they are space-age technology and doesn't trust them at all. And it just cracked my shit up to hear my mother scream into the machine that I should call her back. Then she left her phone number. My parents have had the same phone number since 1987, and man, I lived there until I was seventeen. And I call her almost every day. Does she think I look it up every day?

It shouldn't suprise me that my mother is afraid of answering machines. She has a hard time working her cell phone, her computer, the cordless phone and the credit card machine at the gas station. Of course, she has mastered the ATM machine thanks to me.

My mother is the queen of credit cards. After a disasterous six months when they were first married my dad took over their finances and took away the check book. She never has cash but she can use credit cards like nobody's business. But she had never learned to use an ATM machine or card. Her main issue was that she couldn't remember her pin number and she couldn't tell her ATM card apart from her credit cards. So instead of just figuring this out, every time she wanted cash she just asked my dad. But last year my mother wanted to start using my store discount more. And I needed her to give me cash to pay for the stuff she wanted. So I taught her to use the ATM and she has not been the same since. Unlike most of us, my mother does not withdraw twenty or forty dollars. No, she hits the three hundred dollar button. She calls it the magic button and, as she says, "If I wanted twenty dollars I would just get it from your father." You can't argue with that.

I don't think my father has forgiven me though. She likes her magic button a little too much.

Went home last night to a clean house, bleached sheets and vacuumed carpets. If it wasn't for the money thing I would let J stay home forever. He is a much better housewife than I ever was. The worst part is that I have just gotten so used to it that its going to be awful when I have to go back to doing half the housework. The only messy part of the house is our room--which is my job to clean. Maybe I will do it tonight. The rest looks so nice I don't want my share to be the bastard stepchild.

I take that back Travis' bathroom is disgusting. Mine may be messy but his is dirty. He never cleans it at all. And he doesn't understand why if he doesn't mind using it like that that I would mind having it be like that. Maybe because I paid for this house? He is such an ass about that. Cannot wait for him to move out. Will just remove so much stress from the house. And since I clean the damn bathroom anyway. Might as well enjoy it.

When he leaves I am going to paint his room pink or something else girly. Have to make sure he doesn't ever want to move back.

6:19 a.m. :: comment ::
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