A Few Things That Don't Really Go Together

Doing taxes suck. I don't care if they're super easy - which mine used to be - or like mine are now, which include a Schedule K-1 for the rent and profits from the trees on the family farm that the Tree Guy (This is what my uncle calls him, so I figure, why change it.) comes by and.. takes away?? Look.. I'm not in charge of it, ok? All I know is that sometimes I get money from it, which I would never question or turn down because that'd be quite stupid now, wouldn't it? So there is interest and income and distributions and all of it makes me want to stab myself in the eye with the nearest ballpoint pen since that would be less painful than say.. this:

"Income or Loss From Partnerships.. If you have passive activity income, complete Part II, column (g), for that acivity. If you have nonpassive income or losses, complete Part II, columns (h) through (j), as appropriate."

Did you hear that? That was the sound of MY HEAD EXPLODING. THAT'S what I thought was 'appropriate.'

What was that you say? That other sound you just heard? Oh that was the cha-ching of Turbo Tax charging me $49.95 to put the pieces of my head back together. And my grumbling about it, which followed.

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Let's say you're in Target, like I was today, prior to all the hanging out with my oh-so-fun friend, Turbo Tax, and you're doing errands like picking up freezer bags and cat litter. You might notice when getting your cart, which is near the 'food' court that it's pretty much packed. At Target. Where the 'food' means scary looking hot dogs and questionable liquid cheese that probably has a shelf life of 157 years and popcorn laden in oil that clogs your arteries upon impact. And these 'customers' might've been just.. hanging out. In the 'food' court. Again, at TARGET. I think you would've thought, like me, that sure.. they might need that cheese despite its lacking of any real dairy whatsoever.. but shouldn't they be.. going after the purchase? Eventually?? Not like.. having dates there? I'm just saying.

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The days of free internetting have gone. Our open connection up and abandoned us in the middle of the night last week. Kyle and I have consequently gone thru withdrawels. Periodically, these can be relieved slightly by a sub-par connection that was recently discovered and has a way of teasing us with its signal bars that come and go every few seconds. Discussions with the new upstairs neighbors have been successful and as soon as their new bundled service is installed, we will be official payees for a portion of that lovely wireless service and thieves no longer! We are practically salivating for its arrival. If you don't hear from me soon, it's probably because the withdrawels finally got to Kyle and out of his sheer greed for a wireless signal he put me out of my frothing misery.

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I was told I was on the front page of one of our local alternative papers on Friday. In the personals section, so it was a little side feature and friends emailed and sent texts and they said oh, now you just wait for the deluge of Prince Charmings to come running! Oh yes they did! And, um.. yeah.. so far? No deluge.. no drizzle for that matter. Nothing. God.. I think it's finally come to this: I have dated the entire frickin city.

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Speaking of the potential for lovin - which there ISN'T any, but one day, maybe - I was trying out some birth control, which sounds weird when your pool of lovin has been reduced to a mud puddle, but trust me that there are other reasons for taking it than just preventing another little devyl. ANYWAY.. I only took it for three weeks. I didn't like it because I gained a little weight and my boobs hurt All. The. Time. It also didn't help my mood in the slightest, which is another reason for taking it, and it actually made me feel crabbier and since there were no benefits that I could see, I quit taking it and that was that. So it's easily been another THREE WEEKS and the boobs STILL hurt.. and they're even a tad bigger, which wouldn't be so bad, but I like them their normal size cuz hey, my rack's alright, thank you, but even if I enjoyed the current boob bounty - and had a date that might also find them rather incredible, it wouldn't matter because OW. GET AWAY. DON'T COME NEAR THEM. OW OW OW.

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Call me Martha again.. call me whatever, but just call me a frickin GENIUS because I have found a guaranteed cure-all for wine stains and anything else spotting up your life.. well, maybe not everything, but stains for sure!

I may have been kneeling in a chair and talking to friends after a few drinks during Keith's birthday party on Friday.. and I leaned over too far and fell into Paul, who was holding a large glass of wine that he promptly threw on me and into my hair due to the fact he was trying to a) catch me and b) not get fallen upon. And yes, there I was with wine all over me and one of my favorite shirts. Awesome.

The soda water I bought didn't cut it so onto the INTERWEB I went and Lo! AND Behold even! I found a miracle as sure as the baby Jesus Himself! Dishsoap and hydorgen peroxide my friends. More of the latter than the former.. and the wine disappeared on contact. The small stain on my tank that was underneath the shirt took a bit more mix to get it gone, but it still worked. Y'all can thank me later.

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I'm off to make some dinner and then checking out Blades Of Glory with Boz. Hope everyone had a lovely weekend as random as mine.