So today I bought myself a new laptop computer. It is about damn time I spent some money on a computer that I will get to use.  The last one is sitting 3 feet from here.  My son is sitting on it playing World of Warcraft.  Drop money on a pretty computer and I don't even get to use it.  Why?  The people in my home have serious video game addictions. There is more social interaction online than with the the people that live here...Except for the cat. Bill the Cat sits on my child's lap as he plays video games every night. Bill, apparently, is the boy's strategy manager.  So I get to order a new computer for myself.

So after poking around for a few hours on this thing, text edit became appealing.  I can write down my thoughts and feelings-lol. Thoughts and feelings, ha-ha.  Do you get any of those things called thoughts or feelings after having children?  "Ma, don't talk or you'll embarrass me."  "Ma, don't laugh, you look goofy when you laugh."  I think we are supposed to put those in the trash on the way out the hospital door-especially when you have a boy.

What should I write about.  Well, I just turned 40.  Counting how old I am became less important to me than counting the number of inches to the floor until my boobs sag there.  It seems that number gets smaller and smaller every year.  The only numbers that are associated with me that are growing at a rate faster than a freight train are: my age, the number of gray hairs that I have, and my waist line.  The shrinking numbers include: my height, the number of years until I die, and my income.

I've got one son that is smarter than I will ever be.  Lucky me, hurrah. Giving birth to a genius is not all it is cracked up to be.  The constant barrage of questions from "how many inches will my nails grow in my lifetime?" to "if there is a God, does he watch me while I go to the bathroom?" All these questions tend to get on your nerves after the 80th one of the hour.  These random thoughts going on that need an answer NOW.  Thank you creators of Google.  You are the answer to every mother's prayer.  Your search engine has given me the answer for what to do when my child has a fever to his constant and never ending query about why Douglas Adams chose the number 42 for the meaning of life, the universe and everything.

And then there is my husband.  Yeah, what to say about that.  We co-exist.  That is about all that can be said.  He is happier playing some MMORPG than talking to people in the room.  He will sit 2 inches from me on his laptop and type to me before he will open his mouth.  Am I that hideous?  Do I sound like The Nanny?  He would rather watch some blood elf do a lap dance online than see me naked. Given the state of my boobs hitting the floor, I can't say I blame him but damn, even a 90 year old knows the virtues of viagra.  I secretly toy with the idea of grinding some up in his morning coffee and sending him to work that way. 

What else? Then there is the proverbial question men ask when they know they should do something with you but don't want to make a decision. You know the one, "I don't know what do you want to do?" It just burned me over the weekend.  I decided to be a smart ass after he asked me for the third time.  My reply, "try to take over the world."  He was not impressed.  Glaring at me over his computer monitor he says, "and how do you plan to do that?"  "Why dear, I plan on selling knives with every wife with a smart ass husband," was my reply.  "And what do you think they will do with those knives?" was his query.  I just stared at him until he left me alone. 

Thinking of ways to torture him has become a past time.  Does that make me a bad person or a good person in a bad marriage?  Or is this a good marriage and my sense of good is tainted by daytime soap operas.  Those grand gestures of a bed filled with roses. Those romantic dinners in ball gowns...Who does that?  Really?  I would like to know.

So that's it for now. I'm writing this instead of writing a 12 page paper that is due tomorrow so I guess it is time to use this computer for something other than surfing the internet.  Must resist urge to surf for cute kittens and write paper.... Must resist...

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Apr. 12, 2011 at 10:05 AM

 The only numbers that are associated with me that are growing at a rate faster than a freight train are: my age, the number of gray hairs that I have, and my waist line.  The shrinking numbers include: my height, the number of years until I die, and my income.

Lol, Dawn, this just about sums it all up, doesn't it? Oh, and this is definitely a case of you being a good person in a bad marriage as opposed to vice versa. Hang in there, write that stupid paper, and share more musings when you feel like it. Helps me feel more normal.

Love ya :)

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Apr. 12, 2011 at 10:18 AM

I can certainly agree with you...the technological age has alleviated the stress of actully having to deal with real people. However, we are losing the real social skills and intimacy that we need to survive. Maybe setting aside time to be "unplugged" so you can reconect as a family would be helpful...there may be severe withdrawal symptoms at first but it could bring back feelings of closeness, being connected.

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Apr. 12, 2011 at 2:09 PM

amen sister!  it was like looking in the mirror :)  my hubby and i co-exsist cuz he works first and i work third and we take over child duty while the other sleeps or works!


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Apr. 12, 2011 at 2:10 PM

oh..and did i mention that EVERYONE and their brother like to point out a fresh gray hair or a long chin hair..come on know you get them too!


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Apr. 12, 2011 at 2:40 PM

To me, numbers are arbitrary because there's no way to make them balance.  And I also don't believe in trying to make dh understand this.  It's like watching cows chew cud and I for one would rather do something more my life.

How about we burn a few masculine oriented objects like an "art happening"?

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Apr. 12, 2011 at 3:17 PM

LOL @ the viagra!!!

Brought ya some kittens...

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Apr. 12, 2011 at 3:18 PM

I gotta run and get Z-I'll leave a "proper" reply in a bit.

(BTW-I know Dawn-she writes tongue in cheek-please note her sarcasm with a smile humor)

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Apr. 12, 2011 at 11:34 PM

【【【-Something unexpected surprise 】】】

Alrighty then . . . rude. Not a member, imagine that!

Come to think of it though I could use a new Ed Hardy bikini . . . Do they make tops for 40 somethin' boobies?  :o)

So I'm in love with your post right now, I needed a smile and ya made me do it. I love it when you sit down and write, I know you're supposed to be gettin' your school on but I'm glad you took a little detour :o)

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Apr. 13, 2011 at 5:25 AM

Oh by the way--for some reason grinding up Viagra in a drink doesn't work--I tried it.shrugging

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Apr. 13, 2011 at 6:59 AM

Ha, ha B!  That is good to know!!! That is SO cool that you tried it. I told hilm just now I was going to put some in his breakfast cereal. He asked where I was going to find some. My reply was, "ebay."

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