Fatpants, Please?

fridayi pushed through work as hard as i could today- complete with taking down a client’s christmas tree (yes, i know that it is january 31) and the whole time all i could think about was how AWESOME it was going to be to get home, get into my fattest of fat pants, make some tea and write.  if i felt like getting a little crazy, i was going to read.

i decided i was going to make a plate of nachos, put on some Pearl Jam and just ignore what the rest of the world was doing.  simple enough, right?  wrong.

  1. my fattest fat pants weren’t dry yet, so i had to change out of work clothes and into something not as comfy.
  2. i remembered my vow to give the Terror Dogs baths.  so i had to do that and itwas AWFUL.  the dogs LOATHE the hair dryer, you know, if that ever comes up as a question for Final Jeopardy.
  3. got some bad news-about, not just being broke- but being REAL REAL broke, and even broke-r.
  4. 6,000 other little shitty annoying things, and now my blood is all angried up and my brain is mush.


i’m phonin’ this one in kids, i give up.  maybe after a little mindless staring out the window, i’ll be back to good and can do some actual writin’.  until then-


Lucas and a Snowman

i’m typing.  my son is across from me in the burgundy “old people-style” armchair, reading.  you would look at me and think that i am nervously tapping my foot, but what i’m actually doing is bumping my foot into the dog, basically kicking her.  now, i’m not kicking her out of anger, she likes it.  it’s attention, and if there is one thing this orange beast likes, it’s attention.  she keeps moving her body around so that i knock into where she wants.  when my leg becomes tired, she tries to give me her paw to make sure i don’t stop jostling my foot up and down, as if this a bribe to sweeten the deal.  the hound-y black dog is happily hiding under the comforter at my son’s feet, and you wouldn’t know she was there except for her loud snoring.

my son looks up from his book and asks me questions about cooking and how i prepared the meatloaf we are having for dinner.  i’m proud that he has taken an interest in cooking, something that i never expected to happen, and now encourage and nurture every chance i get.   we joke and laugh, in our usual way, trying to one up each other with insults, but knowing that we really do enjoy each other’s company.

the sun is quickly leaving us for another day, and the moon is pushing its way back up through the sky.  the snow covered yard is still brilliant white, almost glowing, untouched by boots or pets.  i contemplate the effort it would take to build a snowman.

“it’s dark as hell in here”, my son announces.
“then turn on the lamps, Einstein,” i respond.

he switches on the lights, disrupting the hidden dog at his feet, but the lamps do little more than turn the room a deep burnt orange.  my mind wanders and i stare again out the window at the snow, thinking how happy i am to be cozy in my jammies.  i think to myself that there are few things better than meatloaf, a warm home with lots of puffy blankets, a kid that loves you and two quiet (although cranky) dogs.  i smile and my son grimaces playfully, sneering at my unspoken sentiment, yet wordlessly agreeing.  i wish for Lucas to be here and out of the cold machine shop where he’ll be for another seven and a half hours.  i wish he was home.  i sip my hot tea, blood orange zinging my lips and feel extremely blessed; missing only Lucas.

it is full dark out now.  the street is extra quiet as if the bitter cold has consumed the barky dogs, chirping children and rumbling scraping snow shovels.  most pittsburghers are probably home now, making their own meatloaves and drinking tea, warm and cozy

glad for another January day marked off the calendar.  families are chattering about, laying in front of the tv, reading the paper, doing their nightly routines, cluelessly unaware that my family isn’t all together and that Lucas still has seven hours left in a noisy machine shop.
the night moves slowly on, and still, hours to go, and the same quiet neighborhood, perfect glistening yard, still no Lucas, and still, no snowman.



A Little Help From My Friennnnnnnds…….

cross your mindHello Fellow Blog-a-teers!

not that ANYONE really actually follows my blog, but, i’m going to go ahead and pretend like a have a vast following of hardcore fans that sit around all shaky, jittery and salivating until i update my blogs…. having said that- i’ll say-i am finally getting around to doing the second part of the Liebster Award bloggy dealie. you’ll remember the first part at my extremely humorous and deeply touching and bone-baring post-

The New Phonebook Is Here! The New Phonebook Is Here!

try to contain yourselves friends…. *holds worshipping fans back like walmart shoppers on black friday*   there’s plenty of me to go around… and i’m not exaggerating.  PLENTY.OF.ME. no shoving!  and please, please.  no more flowers, fan mail and stuffed animals!  it’s embarrassing!  my boyfriend is getting jealous from all of the marriage proposals and Heart of the Ocean-sized jewels that arrive at our house, daily…. instead- why not donate that money to a charitable organization- like a neighborhood food pantry or local homeless shelter!  do it for me, willya?

(*all ONE of my actual fans applauds wildly*)  I LOVE ALL OF THE ONE OF YOU SO, SO, SO VERY VERY MUCH!!!!! *bows graciously*

so.  a recap of the rules–*cue sinister music*

1. Thank the person who nominated you and link to their blog.
i thanked the very lovely lady from Fonts and Frosting for finding me and giving my blog some love! *more virtual kisses*
2. You must answer the 10 questions given to you by the nominee before you.
i answered my questions- and had a great time doing it.  no animals were harmed during that portion of my blog.
3. You must nominate 10 of your favorite blogs with fewer than 200 followers and notify them of their nomination.
4. You must come up with 10 questions for your nominees to answer.

without further ado- i am presenting my adorable, lovely, creative, talented, eloquent and downright sexy bloggy virtual family!  *throws confetti*


  1. a delightful, insightful blog, Anawnimiss, reminds me of myself and makes me think i could be more put together if i was like this gal.  alas, i am not.  so thank god for people like her. (it gives me hope)
  2. Coffee Crumbs feels like a fun little spot to go and check out what this gal is doing from time to time.  it would be lovely to see more crumbs from her!
  3. Dysfunction Diaries is a great place to go and read about how the ‘other half’ lives…. you know, where i live.  where moms aren’t always at pilates and cutting sandwiches into hearts or talking about the lord as if he was sitting in the passenger seat of your car.
  4. most times you don’t get to see what the CRAZY in “crazy” dating experiences look like—-  you can here…. this guy has as bad of luck as me- all of the weirdest things happen to him….http://theunfortunatevirginmale.wordpress.com
  5. Sniderwriter– reading this blog helps me pretend that i am young, cool and hip.  one of these things- I AM DEFINITELY NOT… the other 2 things (cool and hip), i fake as much as possible.  i wish the author would post more often because i enjoy her quirk and bloody-style fun a lot!
  6. it is very enjoyable and exciting to get in on the ground floor of writers starting out on new write-ventures, books and stories.  i enjoy peeking in this “occasional feminist”‘s brain and seeing what she can pull out.  i look forward to following her on her journey.  everybody- meet K. A. MacKinnon!  *waves*

now- as a disclaimer of sorts–  i live an alternative lifestyle, as i am a brazen bisexual, partnered and in love with a transgendered guy; i’m not a “vanilla sex” type of gal.  having said this, the next bunch of blogs may not be for everyone—- but, if you live outside the lines like me, in the rainbowland beyond black and white (and grey)- you’ll probably enjoy these blogs too.

  1. sometimes you need a little trip to the sexydark corners of the blogosphere.  Mystics Mindfuck is a not-so-secret invitation into the mind and bedroom of a lesbian that isn’t afraid to share- and even will answer your private questions.  very nice!
  2. it’s hard to be the new kid in school, but when you are weirdly different kid, it’s a pretty miserable situation.  if you are lucky enough to ever spy someone that is weird like you, maybe at recess, or in a different grade, it gives you hope, hope that you aren’t alone, and you aren’t the “only one.”  The Transparent Couple is a wonderful little mirrored microscope into one of the situations i currently have in my life.  i have a newly transitioning partner, and we are slowly making our way through the weird, unusual, abnormal things you deal with, as well as the day to day bullshit everyone faces.  it’s nice to find a little bit of yourself somewhere else in this giant blogosphere.  i’m happy to have found them.
  3. yummyrotica is the last stop in our tour of the un-vanilla and cozy pockets of sexy deliciousness—-what kind of mother would i be if i didn’t shamelessly tried to promote my other blog, hmmmmmmm? it’s been dormant for a bit, but, i plan to bring it back to life soon.  this little lovely piece of the internet is a place for sex positive writing focusing on the GLBTQ community and their allies.  take a peek if you are so inclined. you know you wanna….. feel free to submit some juicy goodness if you dare.

the ten questions?

  1. what is your favorite song RIGHT NOW?  i’m always looking for new twists in my playlists.
  2. as a blogger, do you consider yourself an “OPEN BOOK”? or do you only show the parts of you and your life that you are willing to share?
  3. if you were a piece of chocolate in one of those giant boxes of assorted chocolates- which would it be, and why? (no need to over think this one, i’m just currently enjoying a nice assortment of chocolates…*lol*)
  4. what is your favorite go to book that you recommend to anyone that asks?
  5. what is the current temperature where you are right now?  (it’s -6 farenheit, here, so i’m curious about you guys.)
  6. what five ACTUAL things can you not live without?  (ACTUAL TANGIBLE OBJECTS)
  7. what five intangible things can you not live without?
  8. of the aforementioned ten things you listed above, which would you choose over the other— i.e., you can ONLY HAVE the tangible objects OR the intangible ones– which would you take—
  9. if you were to create an interesting cupcake flavor, what would it be?
  10. i dont capitalize the beginnings of most of my sentences and have my own unique writing and punctuation style.  do you think that is a good or bad thing?  do you think i could be a successful writer by not following mainstream writing “rules?”

thanks for playing, kiddos!  there is a badge for this award somewhere- but i’m not adept at that kind of thing yet- so feel free to look it up if you wanted to add it to your page.  or be lazy like me- no one will judge you.  at least i won’t.  at any rate- i’m happy to have you on board my crazy double-decker bus of blogging love!

*Miss Theresa Wordwhore*

C+ To the Schlub of the Week

caloriesi was a huge and horrible schlub last week.  i only made it to the gym once and the rest of the week i was too lazy to even think up an excuse not to go.  i DID, however, write every day which is awesome.  but, this also seems to be a never-ending dilemma.  i can either devote time to working out or writing.  i rarely can do both.  i’m not wonder woman and i certainly don’t have a time-turner like Hermione.

i know that in order to be healthy, i need to exercise and blah blah blah.  i know all of this.  but i also want to focus time on writing, and day to day life ALWAYS gets in the way.   i won’t be this extremely gifted forever and after i make it big, i’ll be able to afford one of them newfangled cyber bodies. or lipo.  whichever.  money will be no object.  either way, i’m gonna look GOOD, and i’ll be happy that i skipped the gym to throw down some of my masterfully written eloquence.



i wrote a lot, exercised very little, volunteered, tried out a new kick ass chicken recipe, FINISHED READING A BOOK (that was some sort of miracle) and— um….. well, yeah.  i think that’s all of the noteworthy stuff i did (that doesn’t include day to day stuff like work, laundry, cleaning, home maintenance bullshit.  so i get an “C+” for the week, (which is about as good, if not better than when i was in high school) mostly because i was extremely happy, wrote a lot and tried out a few new things.    meanwhile, i type this as i am 3 pieces into a box of assorted chocolates.  there’s always tomorrow.  or the day after.  or next week.  or when the fuck ever.


Brainvision is the Wave of the Future

considering that i just entered middle age without becoming a successful or published author, i can only assume that it’s going to be at least 65 more years until i get that amazing book deal i’ve been hankering for.  i figure we’ll all be living in space and driving rocket cars to McSoy-nald’s.  there’ll be no more books and everything will be transmitted by telepathy to our Brainvision (like cable, but cheaper).  so, i actually won’t need to write a blurb for a book jacket, because even e-readers will be a thing of the past.  instead of book covers, they do video interviews that get transmitted to all of the subscribers’ Brainvision feed; so i’ll only have to record thoughts about my incredibly life-changing, awe-inspiring, intelligently witty, breakthrough universally best selling piece of work.  but since they are still working on that technology and i still only have an IPHONE 4, i have plenty of time to plan what i want to talk about.  in the meantime, i also have plenty of time to get that laser eye surgery i wanted and lose all of ‘the weight’.  i’ll start investing in some futuristic wigs and talk to a few drag queens about doing my makeup.  i’m going to have to ask for an advance so that i might buy some clothes because i can’t show up on Brainvision in my Steelers’ sweatshirt and my favorite fatpants.



i’m fairly certain that my futuristic look will be a cross between Effie Trinket and Rose from Titanic. i’m going to have to produce several Brainvision episodes just to cover the cost of my glitter, makeup, facial crystalling and costumage!  or, i guess i could just invest in a cybertronic *MissTheresa*.  either way, even though i’ll be one hundred and five years old, i’m going to look GOOD.  real good.  oh yeah, and my book is going to be pretty great too.

<<<<Brainvision communication- signing off.>>>>


Nice, Schmice. I Just Want To Go Home.

assholei catch myself saying “did i ever SAY that i was nice?” at least twice a day, mostly to myself, and mostly grumbling in response to some idiot.  but still.   i’m not a nice person, and i admit it.  i’m not a BAD PERSON, i’m just not nice.  NICE is your Gramma.  your librarian is NICE.   NICE is a kindergarten teacher.  NICE- is NOT me.  i am NOT nice.

not only am i NOT nice, i also am extremely snarky and sarcastic, with a smidgen of self-deprecation thrown in, making me quite a character; which, believe it or not, makes me rather LIKABLE.  this is 75% me being me, and 25% an act.  when i have to interact with people, i put up a bit of a shield, for self preservation.  why, you may ask?  why do i need to self preserve?  well, mostly because i’m fun. and funny.  and ridiculous.  and most of all- i am THE CLOWN.  everybody LOVES the clown.  this is fine, i accept it.  i was voted CLASS CLOWN in third grade for fucksake.  you can’t carry that title around through life without constantly picking up clingy people that immediately assume that since you said something funny, you are instant BEST FRIENDS FOR LIIIIIIFFFFFFFE!  which, really, the opposite is true.  i tend to not get along well with people who are sweet and kind and NICE.  call me a snob, or whatever, but, that’s how i roll.

so unless i put up this shield of what i like to call “CUSTOMER SERVICE FACE”, i’ll have 416 Facebook friend requests before i even get to my car.  this customer service face was forged from working four Christmases dealing with asshole customers at Toys R Us.  it also happens to be the same tone i use when talking to kids.  “Hey! Buddy!  You wanna take that drum somewhere else?! away from me and into the other room, pal?”   cheer masking contempt.  it’s how i get by.

people will disagree with me when i say that i’m not a nice person, but truly, i am not.  again, this doesn’t mean that i am a BAD person, i’m just not NICE.  people that TRULY KNOW ME, will agree.  i’m a GOOD human being.  i volunteer a ton.  i do a lot of advocacy work.  i’m just not NICE.  i’d just as soon NOT chitchat with the ladies at the gym, and i really hate hugging people that i don’t know well.  i’d just as soon walk by someone i that i only know through other people, than stop and make awkward conversation.  i dread small talk with dental hygienists, hair stylists and neighbors.  i’m fine smiling and waving, but when i am forced to interact with people that i just have to be NICE to, i tense up.  i despise being stuck in the middle of large groups of people- like at bars or concerts and not because of personal space issues, but because i hate fake and forced interaction.  let me just stand there and enjoy the show or my drink.  no, i don’t want to dance with you and please don’t try and dance up on me.

having said all of that- i am NOT an asshole (outwardly).  i respect and commend anyone that works customer service or directly with other people.  waitresses and bartenders, servers and cashiers- god bless you.  you deal with the idiots of the earth and i will make every possible effort to make waiting on me as easy and pleasant as possible.  i smile, act cheerful, will say silly things, tip well, and even bag my own groceries.  HOWEVER, we both know that we aren’t friends and our time together is brief.  this is fine.  for both of us.  anyone that HAS NO CHOICE but to interact with the public, deserves my instant cheerful CUSTOMER SERVICE FACE too.  it’s only right.  but cheerful CUSTOMER SERVICE FACE is NOT small talk about the weather, or trite phrases about what day of the week it is, i.e., “Thank God It’s Friday, eh?” or “Happy Hump Day!”  and unless i GENUINELY care about what a particular sports team is up to, i don’t pretend to care for the sake of idle chit chat.

at the bottom of it all, i’m not a BAD person because i don’t want to befriend every single person that i come in contact with, no matter how much i remind them of their “one crazy friend back in college”.  it’s easier to be standoffishly customer service face-d than kicking yourself later when you see their Facebook friend request, knowing full well that you’ll never actually hang out with them again.

imagine an awkward blind date.  we’ve all had one.  you’ve talked about what you do for a living and the last movie you went to see; you might have even talked about pets or hobbies.  but you know it’s not going anywhere and are basically counting seconds until it’s over.  you have checked your phone enough time to be considered rude and texted a few people “WORST DATE EVER”, “HE DOESNT EVEN LOOK LIKE HIS PICTURE, GURL!!!!”  you go through possible scenarios until deciding on the one that looks the least douchey so you can leave.  THIS is what i am trying to avoid.  but instead of it being a date, it’s a friend of a friend that was dragged to a party and standing by themselves in the corner, or Painfully Awkward Guy all by himself at the concert.  it’s cutting off any need for exchanging phone numbers with the out-of-towners you had a few drinks with, and eliminating the insincere “we should go for a drink” with the people in your non credit painting class.  it’s the priceless opportunity to sneak out of your neighbor’s Party Lite Party without having to share your famous Bacon Cheeseburger Dip recipe, knowing full well they could just look it up themselves in the time it takes you to find a pen and write it down.

NICE PEOPLE, all of them, but me?  nope.  i am NOT nice enough, certainly not for that.   i like some ACTUAL GENUINE CONNECTION in my connection to people, not just half hugs from the table full of crazy women you got stuck playing BABY SHOWER BINGO with all afternoon.

you know that i’m right.  you don’t have to feel bad.  you aren’t an awful person, you just aren’t nice either, and deep down, you know that you don’t really care.


My Name is Theresa and I’m an Addict…

Hi.  my name is Theresa and i’m an addict.

(in droning monotous voice) “hi theresa”.

it has been three days….  three days since-

“go ahead, theresa, you can say it.”

it has been three days since.. *deep sigh*  i watched a Christmas movie.

that’s right.  i’m a Christmas movie addict.  i’m not proud of it.  i guess it all started with Rudolph.  back in the days before dvds or even vcrs, you relied on TV GUIDE to tell you what shows were on and when.  a few weeks before Christmas my mother would read us the listings for all of the classic holiday favorites- Rudolph, Frosty, Charlie Brown; and we would nearly pee our jammies in anticipation.  Christmas movies were so precious and special because you got ONE and only ONE CHANCE to see them a year.  that’s pretty serious shit.  even after most families got cable, you still only had a limited amount of time to get your fix of stop/start animation filled with freaky jittery characters cavorting and singing terrible yet catchy tunes.  mmmmmm…..  Heatmiser, Snowmiser, the Burgermeister…  we grew up with them.  we hated them for trying to hold back Christmas, but we loved them for what they stood for.  they became a part of our traditions as much as overeating and our dad’s drunken capers.  we fired up as much of that Rankin-Bass goodness as we could in the short time we had.  we were hooked.   our hearts hurt when the credits rolled and you knew it would be an entire year before we would get another holiday high.  january left you empty.

the years moved on and Christmases came and went.  new movies were created and added to quiet our inner Grinches.  pretty soon, anyone in America with cable, a VCR and/or a DVD player could spend an entire afternoon speedballing everything from Emmet Otter’s Jugband Christmas to A Year WIthout a Santa Clause.  it became a part of our culture, of who we were; we became addicts.  it was nothing to mainline Frosty, Frosty’s Winter Wonderland and Frosty Returns in one bump.  you could even slam Rudolph and Frosty’s Christmas in July, you know, if you were into that kind of thing.

every year was the same, i would get blazed and overdose on these beloved holiday movies and then spend an entire year in withdrawal- jonesing for more festive frivolity.  from the Muppets to Kris Kringle, we needed more and more and more AND MORE doses of yuletide cheer.  eventually TBS did something never done before- they decided to run Christmas Story for twenty-four hours in a row and became the ultimate enabler for holiday movie junkies like myself.  many a Christmas i spent locked in my bedroom, for hours on end, fixing on the antics of Master Ralph Parker and his Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two Hundred Shot Range Model Air Rifle.

now here i am, forty years old, with a 19 year old son, and there are more holiday movies than ever, so i can blaze up hours of sweet, pure Christmas joy as soon as Thanksgiving is over.

my boyfriend said that i had a problem.  he said that it’s time to put the dvds away for the year.  but maybe i’m not the one with the problem, maybe HE’S the one with the problem.  its just a movie, is all.  so what that it’s been a month since Christmas?  i’m just going to spark up National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, just one more time.  who doesn’t love Aunt Bethany?  she’s hilarious!  so what if i had Muppets’ Christmas Carol on repeat four times in a row?  it doesn’t mean anything.   i’m not hurting anyone.  it takes the edge off, man.  i need it, i need it to relax.  just one more.    just one more.  i’m just going slip in Santa Clause is Coming to Town-

i don’t have a problem.  i can quit anytime i want.  DON’T YOU DARE JUDGE ME.  i chose this life, i don’t want your pity.

i need it.