in my next life i think i’ll be a gay man

Okay, anyone who’s ever had a conversation with me about sex knows it is absolutely NOT even a remote possibility for me for me to be a gay guy.  Unless I’m a celibate homosexual male, there is just no way on God’s green earth I could ever be a gay man, period.  Why?  I am so absolutely freaked out by anal sex I can’t even stand to talk about it.  I know- this is redonkulous.  Especially since I seem to have no scruples in life for the most part.  BUT, don’t get me started on the butt sex.  I am like Oprah when she talks about pedophiles or Rosie O’Donnell when she talks about… food.  Or whatever.  I don’t even like that Rosie.  Anyway, I have been known to end a friendship or two when I find out people are all whoopiee about the anal.  I swear to God I don’t mean to but I suddenly lose respect for them and can’t look them in the eye anymore.  And let’s face it, it’s hard to have a friendship with someone you can’t look in the eye.  I know, this is totally my idiotic problem and I should just get over it.  But… well I don’t know.  I’m trying.

What was I talking about anyway?  Oh, I remember.  If I could get past the whole, you know, intimacy in the poop shoot thing, I’d totally want to be a gay man.  Every single one I know is freaking awesome!  They are so much cooler than I am, they are way more fun and they are WAY better dancers.  WAY!  Not to mention they take freaking awesome vacations.  This is what has me all in a tizzy today.  I was just looking at vacation pictures from my friend Scott and I just want to punch him in the junk for being all kid-free and footloose and fancy free and able to take this sweet ass trips with his little snuggle muffin Aaron.  (He’s totally going to freak out when he reads that.)  I may have changed the names to protect his identity.  I may not have.  Whatever.

I don’t even know where they went and it probably doesn’t even matter.  They might have been at a KOA down the street, but everything just looks so fancy and awesome.  Which reminded me of our recent “Improper Family” camping trip we took with the in-laws in June.  The Hubs and I were walking the kids down to the swim area when we see a guy out taking pics of some flowers.  Then we walk a little further and see these two adorable little Adirondack chairs set up with wine and cuteness.  Then we walk a little further and see the cutest little camper all set up with that green fake grass rug stuff and twinkle lights and more cuteness.  The only thing that was missing was the little pink flamingos.  And inside my head I was all “Goddammit you know those are either two gay guys or some old lady has gone bat-shit crazy out here and her Hubs is going to lose it when he comes back and sees what the hell she’s done to decorate the fucking great outdoors.”

A few minutes later I walked back and the two cutesy little guys were sipping their wine and living the good life to their George Michael soundtrack.  (no I am not stereotyping, it really was GM.)  And then inside my mind I said to myself, “See, if I’d have been born a gay man I would be having the time of my life right now drinking a glass of wine with a HOT guy, but instead I’m schlepping 3 life jackets and a fucking inner-tube up and down this godforsaken campground for my ratbag kids and fat ass husband.  Oh well, at least I know I’m not having butt sex tonight!”

It’s a trade-off people.  Sometimes you gotta give a little to get a little.  (Or in this case, give a little so you don’t have to take it in the ass.)


{I love you Scott, and I hope you don’t hate me after you read this!}


you don’t want to read this…there’s no freaking point to it. except for me to bitch. duh.

SO much has happened since I last blogged I don’t even know how to catch you up.  Here’s the high points:

Hubby got a new job which just happened to be in the town we are from and enabled us to move back to the place where most family is.  It’s super awesome.

My baby boy broke his femur, gave me a damn heart attack and is now a huge pain in the butt.

We moved, to our hometown, but not our own home as we are now searching for the perfect place… while we stay at my in-law’s.  I will make no comments about this except that I am eternally grateful for a loving place to stay while we search and while the little man’s leg continues to heal.  We are all a pain in the ass I’m sure.

Given the new job, I no longer have to work- no more daycare for me or anything else in the near future for that matter.

Okay, that about catches you up.  Whew.

All that leads to one thing today… I am having an identity crisis.  I may be a touch hormonal.  And I am just a hot mess of emotions and grumpiness all rolled into one.  Oh- and my hub’s paychecks are somewhere in the oblivion of “mail changeover” which is so totally awesome because that makes us one step above destitute till the goddamned USPS gets their head out of their asses and delivers my money.  So there’s that.

I know, there’s no point to this.  There’s just bitching.  And whining.  And being as annoying to you as my ratbag family is being to me right now.
So… uhhhh… you’re welcome.


In other news, have you been invited to google+ yet?  I’m kind of loving it.  But I only have like 5 people in my circles.  Who wants an invite so you can be part of the cool club?  You can email me your email address if you want to be in my circles (and yes, putting me in one of your circles is required.  asshole.) 😉   send it to improperlyforward AT gmail DOT com.  All the cool kids are doing it dammit.