The goal of anger management is to reduce both your emotional feelings and the physiological arousal that anger causes. You can't get rid of, or avoid, the things or the people that enrage you, nor can you change them, but you can learn to control your reactions. Unfortunately, I must have been absent the day those genes were given out. I speak my mind. Most of the time it doesn't have the desired effect. So what's a girl to do? Call a few friends, have a few beers, and forgetabouit!!!!!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Sometimes I run out out things to say. Are you done laughing yet? OK, good.
I just mean I'm starting to repeat myself. I end up writing about the same old things that piss me off.
So here I sit. Fireplace on. Took Smokey, the guard dog for a long walk in the snow this morning. Yes, this morning. I actually got up early today. Why, you might ask?
I slept the entire day yesterday.
Had a pretty wild Friday night. Just a clue into how wild. I was singing Karaoke at the Carleton Club with a guy named Burt. Burt and I hate each other. He hates my guts. He really does. He loves my whole family, but me. Don't know why, he just does. He doesn't even deny it. While we were singing (arm in arm) I was telling everyone, "Can't believe Burt is even talking to me, let alone singing with me".
Do you know he could have said something like "No I don't really hate you". But he didn't say a damn word.
Talk about getting off track here. This post is not about Burt.
So needless to say, I was a little under-the-weather .
So today I rarin' to go.
It didn't take me long to find something to rant about.
Page one of the local section of this mornings paper. I didn't even get to the death notices for God's sake.
Ok here goes.
Who the hell does Danny Montano aka MFOME think he is? And his mother is PROUD of him?????????????
We should all be so lucky to have a fine, a law abiding sons such as him.
Don't get me wrong. As a parent, I've done some pretty stupid things, and have been pretty blind. And everyone deserves a chance to redeem themselves.
But if I remember correctly, he was given a chance and the same night was caught in the Armstrong Tunnels doing it again.
I don't understand.
So while this creep is in jail, he has an art opening? Who's profiting from this?
I have a great idea, I think everyone who woke up one morning with MFONE scribbled, yes, scribbled, it's not art, it's scribble and defacement of property. Anyway, they should meet outside the mattress factory with spray paint and just let loose on his so called "Art". Better yet, use black paint. Spray floor to ceiling. Wonder how ol'Danny Boy and his mother would like that? Or the Mattress Factory people.
I'm not one to wish ill will on people, well, ok almost never. But wonder what Heather Pesanto, the curator of this exhibit, would feel is she woke up one day with her house spray painted. Think she would think it art?
The Mattress Factory called this a "natural Conflict"/WTF is a natural conflict???? Stupid little boys spray paint buildings that someone, not them, own.
I have an idea, when they get the urge, why don't they just spray paint their parents home. What, why not.
Maybe that should be part of the punishment. Wonder how Danny Boy's mother would feel if she had to look at that shit every day. Just a guess, but I'm thinking she doesn't own her own home.
"It's hard to see the artistic value in something that you have to have removed," said Mr. Olijnyk. "That's a natural conflict. But at the Mattress Factory, we're just about the art. Everyone who comes here comes here because we find their work interesting.
OK Mr. Olijnyk, my natural conflict? Deciding who's the bigger asshole. You, Danny Montano, his lawyer, or his mother.
I swear, if he ever defaced one of my buildings, I would follow him for the rest of his life to make sure he never made a dime until all of his victims were compensated.
So far he's racked up $713,801.00 in damages. Yes, $713,801.00. Wonder if he stole that from a bank and made a sculpture out of the money, would that be considered art?
Just askin'.
Or is it just me?
This Thursday AMG will be testing their artistic ability at Kil-n-time.
It's BYOB. We will meet there at 8:00. 38th and Penn Ave in Lawrenceville.
Let me know who's coming, so Ginny Ann can give her a final count. It will be fun, something different.
Also Erin's going away party is going to be Sat. Feb. 23 at Trinity Art Gallery in Lawrencevile. We'll talk about that more in the coming weeks.
I have to go read the rest of the paper now, so there might be some additions to this post.
God, Cyril (I'm too smart for all you dumb people) Wecht's trial is starting this week. Get your dictionaries out. He uses every big word he knows in one sentence. He just rearranges the words in each sentence. Saying the same thing over and over. But no one knows. Because they don't know what the hell the words mean. But me, I will be ready with my dictionary.
On a funny note, I was searching for a picture to go with this post. I typed in the word "Asshole". I thought maybe I would get a the word painted on a wall or something. You know what came up. About 25 Pictures of George Bush.
Funny.
Monday, January 21, 2008
About Last Week......
Um, about last week. Uh, yeah about last week,
Not only was I missing, it seems my common sense was missing, yet again.
Oh well.
I think it was worth it just to see the looks on all your faces when I got up and left. Too funny.
Then the whole stalking thing. What did you all think you were going to do if you actually found me?
Don't you know, you can't stalk a stalker. Did you really think I was going to leave my car out for all to see????
I would love to have been a fly on the wall after I left.
Poor guy doesn't know what he started.
The only thing I have to say on the matter is, it's a safe bet that I didn't go to meet MY stalker. (Not going to start that up again, I hate hiding in bathrooms)
My life, my crazy life.
Don't have much to talk about this week. (Or at least what I'm willing to share)
I'll just be brief and list things that burn me up:
1. I feel like running away to Florida. I hate this bitter cold.
2. Still do not have heat in my car, PLUS have a flat tire, PLUS it's stuck in my brothers parking lot in Mt. Washington.
3. Just listening to the news, Brugger's was robbed by a polite robber. I'm out as a suspect, I wouldn't be polite, not at Bruegger's anyways.
4. Just met a few in our group for Kevin's BD. I was supposed to post something. Too tired to remember. Sorry..
5. My secrets out.
My nephew's band is playing at the Sundance Film Festival. One of 6 bands playing with Bono. How cool is that???? He has the same publisists as Bono. I brag about that all the time. He corrects me by saying Bono has 7 publisists. I tell him, it's still big if one of the 7 is his. Right? Needless to say, I'm proud of my rock star nephew, Jeffrey Andrew David. He was born on my 21st Birthday. (Which, by the way, was the same day Pope John Paul II was made Pope. 10.16.78)
I just thought of a funny story. Sunday, while watching playoff games at varoius places. The last stop was at Elbow Room. A bunch of people that looked really familiar were there also. They said the same thing to me. We had a great time watching thet games. Turns out we all stayed at the same hotel for Superbowl in Detroit. They were part of Rooney family and we all partied together the night before the game. We all agreed, it was one of the best times of our lives. (Unfortunately, they got richer, and I got poorer going to the game) But it was well worth the trip. Too bad we aren't on our way to Arizona.
My life is so wierd that way, I always run into people from past events, over and over.
There is another crazy story about the girl I met at Wm Penn Tav. and the whole FBI connection. That will loose something in translation if I try to write about it. Tell you all about it tomorrow.
Tomorrow, lets go to Elbow Room. We haven't been there in awhile.
See you all there around 8.
Sorry this post is so mush-mash. I am tired.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
We're more than a bunch of pretty faces! Don't you think?
Sex Towels??????
Shaving?????????????
I'm not going to say another word on those subjects.
It took me three days to try to decipher conversations from Thursday fit to print for a mixed audience. So folks, I'm not going there.
But this got me thinking, when did my life take such a different turn, huh, just when?
OK, one day, I am wearing queer ass holiday sweaters from Talbot's. Making wreaths for my front door for every holiday. And my goal was to be the best snack mother in my son's homeroom. I kid you not. In my other life, I used to make sure I was first sign-up mother for snacks in September. I used to make sure I got the last day before Christmas, Halloween, etc...which were the kids class party days.I used to make individual gingerbread boys and girls (homemade) and write, with icing every single girl and boys name on them. Yes, I had way too much time on my hands. Well, maybe not, I just concentrated on different things.
I won't even mention the time I woke up at 5:00AM to make penguins out of olives to take to school at 7:30AM.
So for the better part of 25 years. I was a mom, wife, snack mother, ......you get it.
So, when did things turn???
I never even swore for Christ sake.
Then there are our Thursdays!!!!
I discuss things with a bunch of woman I never even knew 5 years ago.
Sometimes the subject turns and we talk of things I wouldn't have even thought about in my past life, let alone say out loud.
As everyone knows, I was married for 25 years. Three of the five guys that I went passed kissing on the lips are dead.(Should I admit that? Should someone warn Mr.B's 20-something girlfriend?Maybe she could have him up his life insurance. It would be for her own good, after all.)
Talk about the "Kiss of Death". I really shouldn't be joking about such things,oh well, humor always got me past the most difficult things in my life. You got to laugh folks.(Esp. at myself)
Anyway,what I'm trying to say here is, I'm not real experienced in some things.
I'm not saying my life is bad, just different, way, way different.
That being said, I love our Thursday nights. Most Friday mornings my cheeks hurt from laughing and my throat hurts from screaming.
We are a bunch of woman from all walks of life who somehow connect.
We have alot more differences than things in common.
We are all different ages: 30-60
Marital Status: Married, engaged, widowed,divorced, single,loser (ME)
Professions: Students, housewives, Judge Judy, Dean's, social workers, educators,professionals and non professionals alike.
Health nuts and those of us who just eat way too much nuts.
Liberals and Conservatives, and those who don't know the difference and could care less.
Thing is, we aren't even angry.
Well, most of us anyway, ok, so I'm a little bitter (blame it on that whole kiss of death thing).
Someone once told us we were the happiest group of angry woman they ever met.
Men think we just get together to bash them. We don't. Most times they don't even come up, But when they do...............
I keep wanting to do a chart on where everyone came from and who's connected, but somehow never get around to doing it. One of these days.
We keep trying to change our name to something nicer, but AMG just keeps sticking, just like we do!
If anyone needs some old lady Holiday sweaters, I donated a ton to Goodwill....
Things that Burned Me Up this week:
1. Getting up and going to work this past Friday......OK Girls, I feel your pain. I had to sit at a dental conference for 8 hours. The speakers were so boring.
Why do they have conferences? Maybe it's just me, I've never really gotten a thing out of them. The speakers are usually so corny. They have the personalities of a brick wall and try to be funny. Uh, sorry, you're not.
Maybe I should try going to a writing conference, these wouldn't be so painful to read.
2. I STILL do not have heat in my car. Brrrrr.
3. Tom Brady still has use of both his hands. Really, how hard can it be to break ones hands, how about just a thumb? It was easy enough for Tony Soprano, how come so hard for hundreds of NFL players.
How about we try Ryans Pub on Forbes and Braddock in Regent Square this Thursday.
It's somewhere different.
If anyone wants to drive with me. Meet me at Mardi Gras around 7:30.
Coming attractions: We are going to that Ceramic Place on Penn Ave 1/31. She is letting us bring our own alcohol.(Did anyone warn her?)
More details to follow.
Maybe we can make some towel racks for those "Show Towels"
Or razor holders?
Also, even though I hate to admit it, Erin is leaving us. (That is, if Tom finds her!) So we have to have a grand send off. We can talk about that on Thursday.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
It's A Beautiful Day In My Hood!
I love my neighborhood. I really, really do.
I don't think about it much. Sometimes I complain about it more than I should.
But after nights like last night. It really makes me stop,think and realize,
I LOVE THIS PLACE.
Dan's cousin Angela has an absolutely beautiful home in Upper St. Clair. Wow, what a house. A great party house.
She's known for her great Steeler Parties. She actually rents Big screen TV's for every room in the house. Amazing.
So I figure, what the heck. She's always inviting me, and I always make up some reason for not going. She's my favorite of all Dan's Italian cousins. (Notice I said Italian Mar!)
I always dread going, not because it is not fun, it always is.
Not because I do not like them, I do.
The real reason.
To quote "First Cousin Ginny Ann". It's like going "Out-a-State".
Danny, Ginny Ann and I got into the car.
Purse? got it.
Snack? got it.
Bottle of wine? got it.
Passport?
Passport?
Yes, passport. Don't you think people should need a passport to go through the tubes?
I think you should.
Then when you come back through, they could set up customs in that little booth the county policeman sits.
It's like a different country, for cyin' out loud.
Anyway, we turn off Bower Hill Road into the "Plan" I guess that's what you would call it. Just like the ones in "Shalerville" but older,nicer,and classier.
That, my friends is where civilization as I know it was over.
We didn't see one person on any street going or coming.
I swear, not one.
Where are all the people? I wanted to start knocking on doors and ask. When do you leave you house? Do you ever walk your dog, or go the the store?Where are you're kids, tied up in the basement?
So we left sometime in the third quarter, I know, we missed the best part of the game, typical. And we got back into civilization.
Stopped at Hambones and Mardi Gras and headed home.
Even after the heartbreaking loss, there were people EVERYWHERE.
Now that I think about it, wonder if that's were all the people from Upper ST. Clair were. Ya think?
By the time I get home it's around 2:15AM. Smokey, my guard dog was driving me crazy to go for a walk.
I figure, what the heck. He'll guard me if anything happens!!!
I walk out of my house and immediately see three or four people, one talking on the phone, one walking her dog and another walking toward her house.
I'm thinking, it's 2:30. And I see just as many people as if it were noon.
I start my walk towards Highland and people are sitting on their porches, walking to cars, a few were taking their dogs for walks also. Cars were driving up and down the street.
I started laughing to myself. Again, it's the middle of the night and if you didn't know it, you would think it was noon.
That's when I know my nocturnal self is living in the right neighborhood......
A few other observations about places like Upper St. Clair:
They have signs on the streets saying you're not allowed to park on the street from 2AM until 7AM.
You have to have a certain kind of mailbox.
So I'm thinking, yeah, beat the shit out of you wife, just make sure you're car is in the garage by 2AM and you're door and mailbox are the right color.
The biggest thing, NO STREETLIGHTS? Why? Why are there no streetlights in the suburbs? Christ, you can't even see the car you have to move by 2AM. The streets are pitch black.
Reminds me of a story about my Grandmother.
My uncle was the first of our family to move to the North Hills from Lawrenceville. When they took my Grandmother out to see it for the first time, getting out of the car, her first remark was "Why would anyone want to live way out here? They can't even afford streetlights or sidewalks"
My Hero.
I thought up what I'm going to call the end of this post when I mention little things that pissed me off, but not enough for a whole post. For the lack of a more creative title:
Things That burn me up:
1.)Don't want to beat a dead horse but, Bruegger's. I ordered one egg and cheese bagel, and one Cinnamon raisin. She told me it would take a minute for the egg to cook. I said fine. She cut the two bagels, put cream cheese on mine, put the cheese on the egg and cheese bagel, AND THEN prepared the egg to be cooked and added to the sandwich.
Why didn't she start cooking the egg and while that was cooking, well, you get the idea.
2.)People that take their Christmas decorations down the day after Christmas, and there is no evidence that Christmas was the day before, it could have just a well been six months ago.
Things that didn't piss me off:
Hillary coming in third at the Iowa Caucus (whatever a Caucus is).
And Barb is coming to AMG this week. Back for a day from her "Life in the Four Letter State", She gets to pick were we are going Thursday, I'll keep AMG girls informed.
Late Edition of things that Burn Me Up:
OK, Just got back from wandering around aimlessly for an hour or so in Giant Eagle.
Just couldn't decide what to buy. First I was going to make wedding soup, but couldn't remember all the ingredients, so switched to a few things before settling on Chicken Noodle Soup.
But here are a few things that burned me up while I'll was there:
First, what the fuck is meatless meatballs? If they don't have meat in them then they aren't meatballs. I actually saw this "ORGANIC MEATLESS MEATBALLS". Know what someone should do? Switch contents with actual meatballs. Watch the "Artsy-fartsy freaks say how wonderful they taste and how better they feel by not eating meat. Get on you bikes and please go away....
Second. The cover of Marie Claire in the magazine section. Christine Arugula or whatever the hell her name is, from Wexford (Out-a-State) with her naked, pregnant ass on the front cover.
No one want to see her naked,fat-ass stomach slapped on the front of a magazine. If that were so, my fat ass stomach would be all over the place.
I'm not even going to get into the Valentines shit all over the store. UGHHHHHHH.
Or is it just me????
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