I think I broke the record for least number of days writing for NaBloPoMo. I made it two days and then my brain was like, "Fuck this". I don't know why. Something is broken inside of me. I'm just not feeling the urge or need to write stuff here. Instead I've found it easier to just shoot off tweets on Twitter instead.
I hate to give up my beloved little blog altogether. I renewed my domain registration for another year in September. It seems wasteful not to use it. I don't know how often I'll post stuff here, but I'll make a concerted effort to stop by occasionally. I really do miss reading the funny comments (which were usually better than my posts).
Below is something I posted on Facebook a while back. I had originally thought I would try to have a "Not Safe For Work" post and include this. Maybe it's just me, but seeing all the comments roll in that particular evening made me laugh hysterically.
What's hilarious is that one friend asked me, "Is that a horror movie?" and I had to tell her, "No darlin', it's a porno".
I have one more thing to share that made me laugh. This happened today:
I wish I could say it was the first time I've ever found food on my tatas, but NOPE! Happens with frightening regularity. I've had to get chocolate stains out of my bras more times than I'd like to admit.
Before I wrap up this post, I wanted to mention that if anyone wants to follow me on Twitter, you can find me at @suzdal92. Even if you don't want to join Twitter, you can look at my timeline at your leisure. That's where I express most of my nonsense nowadays. But if you wanna be friends on Twitter, that would be pretty sweet. Ciao for now you dear people...
This may well be my shortest post ever, but a post of any length should count toward the goal of writing something for National Blog Posting Month, so let's go with that.
I'm almost positive that I've never shared this story here before, but if I have, please forgive me because I suffer from a severe case of CRS.
Last year, my then seven-year old son told all the kids on his school bus that his Russian father had killed a man when he was a boxer. And while it is true that my husband was an amateur boxer as a young man, and it it true that he broke one guy's nose (and also had his own nose broken), he never killed anyone. Afterwards, I was put in the awkward predicament of trying to decide whether I should send a note to his teacher or something. It's really hard to send an email that says, "By the way, my husband never killed anyone, despite whatever rumors might be swirling around". How to handle shit like this is never covered in any parenting books.
I could probably write my own book giving example of things that aren't covered in most standard advice books. I'll try to share other stories here as I think of them (hence the title name of "Part One"). In advance, you're welcome!
Hey guys! Just so you know, getting back into the routine of writing is hard. I used to work on my posts all day long in my head and then pound them out once I got home from work. I've gotten lazy. I'm telling you this upfront so you'll keep your expectations low. Like really low. Believe me, it will be much more enjoyable that way.
So yesterday was Halloween which meant Trick or Treating with the small human who lives in my house. His costume this year (and last year) was a gangster. He wore a pinstriped suit, nice white fedora and carried a tommy gun:
What did we hear all night long? "Are you a cowboy?" It was mostly kids who asked this but one adult even asked him that question. Turns out that the quickest way to piss of a tiny gangster is to repeatedly ask him if he's a cowboy.
My Russian husband went as "Russian Guy" for Halloween. All he had to do was wear a fur military hat and speak English with his thick accent. It was pretty easy as far as costumes go. Along the way, we ran into a kid wearing a huge, photo-realistic mask of Trump.
Immediately the people with this kid were like, "Look! It's Trump and Putin! We have to get a photo". I posted this image on FB and one friend made the comment, "If this was really Putin he would've been shirtless". Buuuuurrrrn!
We got lucky with nice weather and were able to trick-or-treat for over two hours. The result? A full bag of candy weighing 9.2 pounds. This is what it looked like when dumped out:
My son said these exact words to me, "Look Mom! I can make a candy angel!" (like a snow angel) and he did. It doesn't suck to be a kid sometimes.
(Note-- this post is one of 30 planned posts for the month of November. I intend to change the email setting so that subscribers don't get daily emails. I'll do that as soon as I figure out how to do so).
I'm the worst kind of asshole-- I think I'm funny.
Personal Page HERE
Blog Page HERE
(Note--I only joined FB in January 2016. Come be my friend, if you want, and like my page before I get fed up with the whole thing and delete my FB account. Kidding. Maybe.)