Category Archives: The Bitch

School Days

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I’m in a funk.

I was really, really, REALLY looking forward to having 3 days a week with 2.5 hours a morning of time to myself. ONly to find out that number 4 will have to go to school in the afternoon. AFTERNOON!!!! That means, damn it! That I won’t get that free time. Time to write uninterrupted.

It feels selfish…but, rather, I like to think of it as disappointment. HUGE DISAPPOINTMENT.

*sigh*

I guess this all just part of being bitchy… Grrrr.

On the other hand, my daughter took her father to Open House last night, and her teacher took this time to inform her father how much she’s falling behind. OMG! was I pissed or what! First of all, we [parents] were told specifically that this was NOT parent-teacher conference time! We should restrain ourselves from having lengthy conversations with the teacher. This was inappropriate. It was an open door, open session–anyone could walk in–visit. My daughter’s brother was standing right there with them. I mean, COME ON!

My daughter is strong and she held it together with stoic appreciation. But when she got home, she cried. And of course, hubby is just upset that she has fallen behind. He doesn’t really see the wrong. But I do! and I emailed that teacher and told her what I thought. Nicely. Bitchy is for this blog.

Sometimes, I hate teachers. Why are they like this? Have you ever had a teacher talk to you condescendingly? I have. Many times. It just pisses me off. This is the icing on the cake though. You don’t mess with my kids! Stupid.

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To The Man In Urbana, Selling a Chevy

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YOU SUCK!

The guy wouldn’t give me his name… and was close-mouthed about what kind of truck he was selling. FREAK! I mean, if you’re going to advertise and sell a truck whether it be from your front yard or the classified or the internet, YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE TO TALK TO STRANGERS!

I mean, my husband and I have browsed dozens upon dozens of truck ads in the past several weeks. How the hell am I supposed to know what guy is calling me… if he doesn’t tell me?

Also, and this is the kicker, the wife posts on craigslist, a chevy truck for $2500…Matt emails her[cuz, the woman didn’t put her phone number in the ad] and 2 days later the woman emails him back. No number, just, I’ll get you some pictures. Matt gets the pictures and finally talks to the woman, who, btw, knows nothing about the truck. The NEXT day, there’s a new ad on Craigslist, with pictures, a chevy truck for $3000. Can  you believe that shit?

Who wants to do business with shifty people like that? Jiminy Cricket! What is wrong with people? The internet is not an excuse for dishonesty and two-facedness…

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On the phone with Children’s Hospital of Pittsburgh

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OMFword!

[LONG STORY] Last May, I faxed a written release for my son’s new doctor, Larry Tyschen in St. Louis. He wanted the MRI reports from when Sean was a little guy. When Sean started seeing an Endocrinologist this summer, that doctor wanted the MRI report. Soooo, i called Dr. Larry and he said, what? we never got that MRI report.

So I called Pittsburgh [8/11]. They said, “Oh. We couldn’t process that because we didn’t get a release form.” *breathe* Anway, so, they faxed me the official HIPAA forms and I filled two of them out and refaxed them back over. [btw, there’s nothing special about the HIPAA forms and my “written release” was just as good. As a matter of fact, it had more information on it and was easier to read] One for Larry, MD and one for Myrto, MD. I called the next day and the nice lady said that the order was being processed. Okay. It’s late, but it’s done. FINE.

I called the endocrinologist this morning to find out what the hold up was. They are supposed to call me to set up an appointment for my cutie-patootie, 20 pound three-year-old.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Strasser, we never got those MRI results.”

What the fucking WHAT???

 

I’m out of my mind. That’s all there is to it. Well, I called the Children’s Hospital again this morning. They closed the account as job complete. Sent the records to St. Louis Children’s Hospital as requested. I said, “..and St. John’s Mercy, you mean.”

Cuz, dumbass, that’s where his endocrinologist is. Dr. Myrto is at St. John’s[they had the address, phone number AND fax number].

“Oh, we only recieved one request…to Children’s.”

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Then, I call St. Louis Children’s Opthamology offices, which, BTW are different from the hospital offices. They have NOT recieved the reports. The nice girl there says that maybe the records went to the hospital records department. Of course they did… but the  hospital records department can’t release the MRI reports to the Ophthamology department because it came from Pittsburgh. ONLY Pittsburgh can release Pittsburgh records.

So…I’m at square Fucking ONE.

I have re-FAXED all the release forms with a LENGTHY note on the cover letter to my Health Information person at Pittsburgh Children’s Hospital. She was very nice. Very helpful. Wanted to make things better. I’m WAY frustrated [but not at her]…just at the stupid incompetence of whoever she works with and who put her in this position to be laiason to the Bitching Betty.

I have to call her…make sure she got my fax. :eyeroll: It’s ten o’clock in the morning. I haven’t gotten a thing written or a critique critiqued. I haven’t had coffee and i’m eating a DingDong.

GRRRRRRRRR……..

i ran out of steam…

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But you should have seen me this afternoon when I got home and there was a message on my machine from my friend, the neighbor. A really, really nice lady who hosts craft night once a month. Guess what night it is???

TONIGHT!

Of course, and she wants to meet my mom who’s been visiting for the past few days…so I feel badly not going. Another month and no excuse not to go. I was really irritated at first thought, but I tend to talk my self out of those irritations. Not sure that’s good or bad, just…depressing. I’m such a bitch.

It’s been a long week.

No writing.

No alone time.

No Normality.

That’s hard on my psychological welfare… LMAO.

ALSO…is it really so bad to want a tattoo?? Why, when I say that, do people make disgusted faces and say ew. I see people with them and I like them!!!!! It’s not very nice to be so negative about what other people like…  I mean, I don’t go around saying, “I really hate when People read bible verses out loud at the breakfast table…as if we all want to hear it.”

I’m sorry, but to me…that’s pretty. 

and so is that…

Sexless…shitheads

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You can’t possibly understand how pissed off I was last night during the Olympic opening ceremonies. I watched all these beautiful people people parade in with their beautiful dresses…their scarves…their hats…pretty shoes. I don’t remember which country wore them, but the women had on these sassy red dresses. Reminded me of Audrey Hepburn…

I remember thinking at that point, Oh, I can’t wait to see what the US is wearing.

OMG! OMG! OMG!

First of all, if you saw our team from a distance you wouldn’t be able to distinguish man from woman. It was the most disappointed I’ve ever been!!!! I mean, what stupid Freak women’s Liber decided we had to be Fucking equal to men??? HMMM? There was nothing, absolutely NOTHING pretty about any of the women’s clothing. They looked just like the men. Pansy ass men wearing Polo-ish Caddyshack-reminiscent WHITE pants, blue[yes, Navy] sports jackets, and stupid, freaking, country-club set scarves at their necks.

[My daughter saw this picture when I was complaining about the outfits…she said, “but the dress is pretty.” YES! THANK YOU, smart 9 year old female. I LOVE YOU.]

I’m a republican…but, EW. EW.EW.EW. They looked like cookie cutter conservative, golfing..SEXLESS SHITHEADS.

When is our country going to WAKE UP and realize that woman have more to offer!

Put a dress on, you morons!!!!!!!!!!

Kids

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There’s something about kids.

They make you want to pull your hair out.

They make you yell when you want to be calm.

They call you stupid… and end up grounded to their rooms.

They wish you were never born.

They have excuses for not doing what you tell them to do.

Then, a minute later they are smiling…and you still want to pull your hair out. You wish you didn’t exist. You yell. But most of all,  you wish you had been too stupid to have sex.

 

 

I BLAME HIM! ————->

 

 

 

(heh. i can’t help but laugh. which is how we get ourselves more children in the first place. STOP making me LAUGH!)

Love and Anger

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I came upon a revelation last night.
Having never understood people who could look at their children and say, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, I was taken by complete surprise by that very overwhelming emotion. My daughter heard me and my hubby arguing last night [of which I will bitch about in a minute] and when the old man turned away, my daughter called to me. I went to her door to peek in and she said, I love you mom. I was never more grateful for my daughter…

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Just because I’m wrong doesn’t mean I can’t bitch! 

I can’t keep a freaking balance. I want to, I try to, I always screw it up…somewhere along the line.  I’m a shithead and sick and tired of feeling like the only one who makes mistakes around here.  God knows, He made other people perfect….

Why am I the only one who has to do things that go against the grain?  Other people aren’t doing things that are hard for them. They aren’t stepping outside any character box in order to complete a task. It’s all easy shmeasy. [offtopic]They didn’t carry four children then HAVE to overcome all these NONmaternal instincts.[<–sarcastic tone] Not everyone is automatically child friendly. Hell, I stopped babysitting in high school because I couldn’t stand the kids anymore.  Of course it’s different with my own kids, but that doesn’t mean at their births I donned the cloak of patience and craftiness. No. I have to work at it if I partake at all.

[on topic] Don’t go to fucking sleep on your anger. That’s the bullshittiest phrase ever. Sometimes, I hate my life. I want to run away to Vegas and forget other people. I want to live on the edge…do things I never got a chance to do.

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But, then I hear a screech from down the hallway as a streak of blue races by the kitchen. “Potty. I gotta go potty!” And I laugh because my four year old waited too long again. And I love when he gets breathless in his panic. It’s so cute and worth way more than a thousand reckless escapades.