Entitled Bitch

Often you can tell how manipulative a person is by observing how much logic pisses them off.

When life hands you lemons, hurl them through your neighbor’s window while swigging Wild Turkey.

I hope this is rock bottom.

I will never buy into the fact that it’s better for children for their mother to stay in a situation that depresses her.

Older women are better able to handle being made to feel like shit. But it doesn’t make it OK.

Women are designed to slowly break down and die after they’ve had their children. They are of no use evolutionarily after having completed this task.

Womanly tip: Do not be clinically depressed if you’re married. It’s an embarrassment to your husband.

Flaws are an integral part of perfection.

Step 1: Invite relatives over
Step 2: Criticize them
Step 3: Wonder why they don’t visit more often

I only have 18 brands of toothpaste to choose from. What the fuck is this shit?

A woman followed me home honking because I paused too long at a stop sign and she was in a hurry. Once I saw a woman nudge a traffic cop with the front of her mini van because she was in a hurry. Where the fuck are all these women going?

We have been appalled by those in history who have tried to control the thoughts of others, yet people do this to one another every day, on a smaller scale, veiled by the guise of “knowing what’s best.”

My friends think it’s weird that I let my kids wear a brand of shoes that I think are ugly. I keep forgetting that, as a mother, I’m supposed to control my children’s taste. I’d better get on that.

I was waiting in line at the post office today, and a woman in front of me with a lot of packages offered to let me go ahead of her! “You have kids with you,” she said, “and this is going to take me a long time.” So sweet and kind!

Then, as we continued to wait, another woman walked past all of us in line, went up to the counter, and demanded an answer to a question. The postal clerk told her she had to wait in like everyone else, but the woman would have none of that. She was in a hurry and she wanted service now! The postal clerk pointed out that the rest of us were patiently waiting and it wasn’t fair to let her jump ahead. The woman was so mad that she demanded the name of the supervisor and threatened to report the clerk. What the hell?? What exactly is she going to report her for?

I’m a 47 year old mother of two. I don’t care about minivans or granite countertops or juice boxes. I have interests that don’t involve my kids. I don’t give a shit about American Idol. I don’t tell my kids how to dress. I’m not a doormat. 

#smashthisfuckingstereotype

Nod and smile. Pretend to be stupid. Repeat as necessary.

I’d try a yoga class for stress relief except flushing money down the toilet also stresses me out.

From Andy Borowitz: “Based on some people’s comments after the supreme court decision, I think stupidity may be a pre-existing condition.”

From Louis Peltzman: “The real tragedy here is that all the people distraught over the healthcare ruling can’t console themselves with faggy Oreos.”

Car wash attendant reminded me to roll up my windows before going in. Thanks, man, that’s a great tip.

Neighbors are disgusted that someone is raising chickens in the neighborhood. Because having a dog shit all over your yard is so much more sanitary.

Want to skateboard through the forest preserve with my kids. Sorry for the interruption, parked car perverts.

When you’re married, you’re supposed to feel better about yourself around your spouse, not worse. Watch for this.

Camping trip with friends of friends this weekend. We did not play any actual games, but I’m pretty sure there was some sort of contest to see who could have the most mind numbingly boring conversation.

When you let your kid walk all over you, you’re not being a good person. You’re being a person who’s releasing a monster into the world.

The suburbs: Where you drive from one depressing place to another while being tailgated by a giant SUV.

I have a acquaintance who gave up her career, home schools her children, cooks for her husband every night, and attends weekly Bible study. I enjoy talking to her, but I’m always wondering if she pictures me with horns growing out of my head.

As a child, my block had a giant clique of girls who did everything together, shared secrets, and had their own special way of speaking to one another. I was never allowed in. I somehow never knew the right language. My attempts to get it right left me feeling stupid and embarrassed. Today, at age 47, on an entirely different block, I am in the exact same situation. I still don’t know the language or the secrets or the exact things I should be doing or saying to be invited to join in.

Sunday brunch: Where masses of humans shovel eggs and bacon into their faces while complaining about all their health problems.

A few weeks ago, a woman at the grocery store expressed her irritation with my parking spot choice by telling me I was dressed like a slob. By this line of reasoning, I’m going to guess she was on her way to shoot a porno.