Confessions of an Unintentional Domestic Goddess

Just another weblog

Observations from the public swimming pool 2011

Today we made our first visit to our local swimming hole, I mean pool. It’s a really nice pool, compared to the one when i was growing up. The public pool available when i was growing up was an indoor pool that was also used for the high school swim team. It was filled with noisy obnoxious kids who had no place else to go in the sweltering heat. Today, the public pool has a beach entry, two diving boards, a kiddie pool, a splash pad, and two, count’em TWO water slides! it’s amazing!

Today’s version of people watching was not as interesting as the past, it wasn’t crowded. Which is a good thing, it was a perfect pool day: not too hot, not too crowded, and the water was still refreshing. Sometimes later in the summer, after too many days of 100+ to count, the water begins to feel like bath water. Call me crazy, but I’m not in for the public baths.

I realized today that if I did choose to wear a bikini again, I probably wouldn’t look as bad in it as I thought I would! I think the key is confidence and not caring what anyone thinks!

Anytime a guy just a bit older than me calls me ‘ma’am’ and asks me for the time, I need to get my hair done!

For all of those kids there, I don’t remember seeing many of them using the restroom, which makes me thankful for chlorine

Tattoos, the arm band type, don’t make a young guy look tough. I’m not even sure they make him look cool.

Like last time, there were tattoos on many people. There was a woman who looked like she could kick my husband’s ass, who had many in various locations, including on her neck (shudder). And then there was one that made me kind of giggle. You see name tattoos in essentially any spot, arm, neck, chest. The woman sitting on the chair next to me had “Wayne’ tattooed on herself. It was the location she chose that made me laugh. I think it was the ‘I love you, but not THAT much’ it was on her foot, close to where the toes bend.

I’ve heard it said that tan fat looks better than pale, white fat. While that may be true, I think some people should look in a mirror before leaving their house for the pool. There are some things in this world we are just not meant to see!

If your very small child of maybe 3 or 4 yrs, cannot swim, he will not, and I repeat NOT learn to swim by making him jump off the diving board in 12ft of water and encouraging him to swim to you. Nor will he learn to swim while trying to catch you in the shallows as you walk away from him watching the water slowly cover his head, and telling him to keep coming toward you. That makes you look like a total jerk and will only serve to traumatize said child.

When playing catch with a wadded up t-shirt, you’d better have good aim, because if you hit me again, I’m going to hold you under the water til you cry for your mama!

Every time we arrive after opening, the only chairs left are the wonky ones missing straps so my butt falls thru. You’d think I’d learn better!

Here’s hoping that next year, we have a pool of our own to enjoy. And if my children dare to even think of using the bathroom in it, they will be banished!

How do you spend your hot summer days?

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Why now?

Sorry gang, this is a rant. I’m kinda pissed right now and for me, to just get it all out there helps me feel better and get over it, so grab a glass of wine and hang on.

I graduated high school in 1985, which puts us at the 25 year mark this year. I was on the planning committee for our 20th reunion. We started with at least a dozen, maybe 18 people on the committee. But as with any committee, it starts out strong and ends up with only a handful of people doing all of the work, for the benefit of everyone. We worked really hard and I think it turned out well, we had a good time and a pretty good turn out. When it was over, several people were asking us about a 25. The committee chair and I both said, there wont’ be a 25, if you want one, you plan it!

Flash forward to last fall. A classmate of mine who was unable to attend either the 10 or 20, thought we really should mark the quarter century mark with a big party. She asked for assistance in the form of a committee. A few people offered, but never really came through. I offered to assist in any way that I could. Key word being assist. Yeah, right. You know where this is going, especially if you’ve ever offered to assist in some kind of function. Basically, it came down to being Jami, the chair, and me. She asked for more people to help, and a couple did, but that was pretty much it. Out of 350, 116 of whom are on our class Facebook page. So it’s not like they’re clueless and completely in the dark about everything.

My co-chair (see what I mean? assist = co-chair) essentially did everything once we had the location chosen. She contacted the dj, signed the contract, chose the colors for the china, napkins and table coverings, by the time I asked what needed to be done, she would rattle off the things she’d done and I was gobsmacked at her attention to detail. Oh, and I have to say that she was not only trying to plan our event, she was teaching 8th grade pre-algebra, planning her own wedding, and planning a move out of state. This woman knows how to multi-task and puts me to shame with her eyes closed!

We have been selling tickets online through our Paypal account we setup to make purchasing easier for everyone. A couple of weeks ago, I had a heart to heart with Jami and told her that I think we may have to call the reunion off. We had only sold 30 tickets and needed a minimum of 100 for the event to be held, otherwise we’d lose money on it and have to dip into the class account, which is pretty small. We discussed it and agreed that we should give everyone one last opportunity to buy tickets if they were planning to attend but had not yet bought. The response we got from that was, um, well, I’d call it underwhelming. And disappointing and frustrating.

The reason for my rant is Brian, a classmate (and apparently a dumbass) I’ve known since elementary school. Tomorrow is the deadline we agreed on to give our classmates until tomorrow at midnight to buy if they wanted to.  Jami forwarded a message from Brian that was basically telling her, and me, that the reason people weren’t buying tickets was because we were having it at the Hard Rock Casino, and no one wanted to support a casino. And I totally get that, believe me, our state has a serious skin condition and it’s called casino-itis.  And that he thought we shouldn’t have a ‘big fancy gala with a big price tag’. Ok, gala to me just means a really nice party. We never said it was black tie. No word of attire was ever mentioned. And, oddly enough, he conveniently forgot that it’s the same price of the tickets for our last reunion, which he attended. So I responded to his letter, and let me tell ya, I let him have it with both barrels. I hope his eyeballs blister when he reads it. He had many opportunities to voice this concern. In fact 6 months ago when we chose the venue, only one person had an issue with the casino, but their convention halls have a completely separate entrance. You can’t even hear the ‘ding ding ding’ of the machines. Honestly, if you had been invited to an event such as ours, and input was asked for and welcomed, why, oh why, would you wait 6 months to let your feelings be known? Grrr. He just really irritated me. I replied to this message that was sent to her and I hope she forwards it to him because that’s just crap if you ask me. If you have misgivings about something, or an issue with the location, why on earth would you wait to voice your opinion until it was too late to do anything about it ? I mean seriously. He started this note with ‘meaning no disrespect to the reunion committee’ which was Jami and myself. Well, you know what? It was disrespectful and hurtful.  He mentioned a tailgate before a football game where people can hang out. I told him if he wants a tailgate to plan it himself because I”m out. He’s a rat pig, but that’s a different story that I think I”ll keep to myself.

Thanks for letting me rant. I feel better now. I think I deserve a glass of wine now. Ha ha. And I didn’t think this was going to be very long! Guess I was on a roll.


Liar, Liar, Pants on Flaming Fire!

Ok people, I’m gonna vent here, so just hang tight. I have a pet peeve.  Well, I actually have a few, but this one has to do with credibility and professionalism, not a big deal.

We had our house painted in November. The same guy did our last house, so that must mean he’s a good guy, does a good job and doesn’t rake his customers over the coals, right? Well, in theory, yes. In April, I notice one of the trim boards on our chimney is peeling. Not  just a little and hardly noticeable, but I’m talking serious peeling, almost like it hadnt’ been touched at all!

My husband rings him up, gets VM and hangs up. His thought is if yayhoo (from here on out known as Liarpants Painterguy) gets a message about something he screwed up that wont’ be making him any money, he’s not going to call back. So, Liarpants Painterguy rings back, almost immediately. My husband tells him what’s up, and he says ‘Oh, sure, I’ll be out to take care of it.’ Riiiiight.

So, nearly two months go by and I finally remind my very hardworking husband about this stupid paint sitchiation. He rings up Liarpants Painterguy, once again gets his VM and hangs up. But this time, when Mr. Painterguy calls back, my husband has gone to work and I get to talk to him. It goes something like this.


‘This is Liarpants Painterguy, I missed a call.’

I explain the situation and tell him he needs to come and fix it.

‘I’m so sorry I haven’t had time to take care of that.’ RIIIIGHHT. Whatever. ‘What’s the address? I’m on my way over right now.’

Oh, ok, that’s more like it!  I’m doing the things around my house that I’ve been putting off and realize that TWO HOURS have gone by since Mr. Liarpants Painterguy has called me. Hm. Well, I can’t wait around here any longer, I have places to go.

A week later, after he was supposedly coming right over, I ask my hubby to call Liarpants Painterguy again about the chimney. We are heading into summer and it’s only going to get worse if we just leave it.  Our house will look like one of those poor old run down houses that have about an ounce of paint left on them.

Hubby rings Liarpants Painterguy, and this is the part where he got his new name so pay attention. Mr. Liarpants Painterguy tells my husband that he was here, had come TO my house just like he told me he would, didn’t take the time to tell me he was here, checked it out and left.

It was at this point me head spun 360 and I felt the green pea soup vomit churning. Seriously, if you’re going to lie about something, you have to make it believable! I had been here at the time he said he made his drop in. Oh, and have I mentioned I have a dog? Yup, Lucy the mutt barks at a leaf blowing down the street, so can you imagine what a car door opening outside my house does to her? It literally sends her into orbit! So this guy can’t tell me he came, Lucy would let me know. Anyone comes near my door, she goes completely bonkers! I mean eat the pizza guy bonkers!

He tells my husband that he’ll be out this Wed to fix it, but we have to call and remind him! Seriously? You’re so busy you can’t even remember to fix your screw up? All I can say right now is  GRRRRRR! In other words, the tanking economy hasn’t had any effect on his business lately at all. He’s so busy he doesn’t have to worry about credibility or referrals. Oh well, whatevs. Once he fixes the crap job his did on my chimney, he won’t have to hear my name again! Jerk. Oh, or get any more referrals from me either. I hope he feels the pain.


Today is the day we (read ‘me’) were supposed to call and remind Liarpants Painterguy to get his arse out here to fix his screw up. So, I did what any normal person would do, I sent him a text message with everything I needed to say. I got my point across and didn’t have to listen to any of his BS excuses. Great. Now I just sit back and wait for it to happen. Holy crap I am a dumbass sometimes! You know that? I continually try to give these yayhoos the benefit of the doubt only to have it slap me in the face. I finally get a response to my txt at about 5:30 with an excuse of being in and out of doctors office b/c he’s been sick. Ok, I don’t mean to sound cruel and uncaring here, but I really don’t give a rat’s arse about his problems! I don’t want excuses, I want action, is that asking too much? Sheesh.

Oh, and I got scolded for sending a text. I told my husband he was going to have to call Liarpants Painterguy b/c he just doesn’t respond  to me. I told him I’d sent a text and he went off on me! He said I should’ve called him b/c that’s what he said to do! Well, guess what! Next time, as in tomorrow, dear husband will be the one who’s making the call to Liarpants Painterguy because I”m done. I’ve done what I can do.


A word about cheating

I am really disappointed and dismayed at the events that have played out over the last week involving Tiger. What a letdown. You would have thought, I would have thought, that he was a good guy. He’s got a beautiful wife and two precious children and yet, he can’t seem to keep his pants on when he’s away from them.  It’s really tragic.  I feel so badly for his wife.  Not  only does she have to deal with the fact that her husband is an ass, an adulterous ass, she can’t leave her home for all of the photographers and reporters camped out in her front yard. Really, it’s none of our business.  They need to deal with their problems on their own.

What I don’t get and maybe it’s because I have a modicum of morals and scruples, why,WHY would you come out and say to the media, US magazine to be exact, ‘Hey, it’s me!  I AM THE HOME-WRECKING SLUT!  OVER HERE!  LOOK AT ME!  I’T’S ME!  I DID IT! AND I’VE GOT PROOF!’  I guess when the press started accusing the first woman of being the ‘other woman’ and she vehemently denied it, this next bimbo feels slighted, comes forward and sells her soul, and dignity (if she had any in the first place),  for a few bucks. I’m sorry, but if it were me, I’d be grateful the fingers were pointing elsewhere and taking the heat off of me. Not this bimbo. She’s probably about as smart as a bag of hammers.  But if Tiger was cheating on his wife with her, it wasn’t for her intelligent conversation or witty repartee.

I was watching an interview w/the editor of Us magazine.  The interviewer was asking him why it’s our business. You know, that’s a great question, why is it our business? Because he’s a public figure, was the answer. Bill Clinton had an affair.  Yes, true, but he was #1 an elected official, and #2 doing it in the Oval Office and possibly compromising top secret info in the process. This guy is just an overpaid jock, if you can call a golfer a jock, who screwed around on his wife. who cares.  I hope she did beat him with a golf club.  He deserved it.  That and the trip to the cleaners she’s going to take him on. He deserves every bit of what’s coming to him. She does not. If she married him and took his word with his vows and she was faithful to him, she didn’t deserve this. No spouse deserves to be cheated on. I know it happens all the time and it’s a real tragedy.

So, here’s my word on cheating, are you ready, it’s a really simple one: DON’T.


So apparently the first woman linked to Tiger, the one who vehemently denied, has now come clean and admitted that yes she was involved with him. AND she pissed that he was messing around with other home-wrecking sluts. Really? How does she have the right to be mad about anything, other than being outed? Honestly.  His wife is the only one in this situation who has any reason or right to be upset. The other bimbos, they can all go cry in their beers over how bad he is. Or better yet, just go away.

That’s one thing about the whole cheating mentality that some people don’t seem to understand.  If he is willing to cheat on his wife, why on earth would you think he was not ‘cheating’ on you? Ugh. Makes me want to throw up.

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