Baton is the cure for cancer and other mundane musings because that post below is so old it's starting to smell bad.

I'm Aliiivvee. Yes, I'm sorry. I went into hiding after my first attempt at being a low budget director, producer, editor, host of a home video that I dared called a 'show.' So many things have happened since we last met so please, sit your ass down and catch up with me will you? Cliffs notes style...

Two Saturdays ago, I got into it with the munchkin's kindergarten teacher over BATON. Yes, BATON. You see this teacher has been teaching baton since Moses was in a onesie and signs up most, if not all, her female students into baton class every year. The munchkin was not really keen on baton when I asked her about it but teacher told me that all the other girls had signed up and oh I better sign the munchkin lest she be the outcast. The munchkin continued to be neutral about baton, liking it more for the social aspect of getting together with her friends and using the batons as pretend microphones, swords, and what have you. Things came to a head when there was a 'baton competition' that the munchkin could care less about. We were there for an hour, she got bored, and we said screw it, and went to the beach before her event was up. Who knew this would get her petticoat in a bunch? I then got lectured on Monday by crazy baton teacher about failing to teach my child 'life lessons' about commitment because I pulled her out the minute she got 'uncomfortable.' The woman means well, and she is probably in her late thousands, but clearly she doesn't know her boundaries with the whole parent/teacher relationship as she reprimanded me in front of other teachers and students, INCLUDING my daughter. Sure, I'm probably a toddler in her eyes too, but please do not tell me how to parent, especially in a condescending manner, as if I'm some open mouth breather at the back of the short bus. Only my parents can do that, and they've had years of training so there's no contest.

I had to break it down for her that the munchkin did not like baton from the very beginning and if it's something that she never liked to begin with, I am not pushing my daughter to do it. Look for your pageant mom elsewhere o' wrinkly one because you won't find her here. I did it in a very polite way of course, because I respect fossils of all types, dead or alive, but still...even when I told her, I could still see that she could not wrap her head around the fact that my daughter didn't like baton. She was almost shocked. I wonder if she knows that baton is just fancy stick twirling and not ongoing research to cure cancer.

My work laptop done broke. Dog got caught up in one of the wires while he was having a spastic attack because viking husband came home. (seriously, this dog is almost 10 and still acts very much like a puppy....that's had like 10 pixie sticks). I ended up going on craigslist and found a very nice computer with a 17 inch lcd monitor for 160 bucks! The guy who sells it apparently steals buys computers in bulk from open delivery trucks offices that are going out of business. Either way, I got a great price and I blame the economy for having to go through back alley computer dealers from craigslist.

And I got a vacuum from craigslist too - normally a 200 dollar vacuum that I got for 40 bucks. It was used and missing one attachment. I was excited. Then depressed that I got excited over a vacuum cleaner. Then excited again when I began to think about how clean my rug is going to look when I use it. Then got depressed again because...well, do I really need to explain? Again, I blame the economy.

I was checking out my bangs to see if I needed to touch up my roots or if the hairstylist did indeed match my original hair color. Well she didn't - and I don't blame her because apparently, my original color is now GRAY. YES. That's right. Raise a glass of Ensure and please toast it in my honor. I found a cluster - not one or two or three - a CLUSTER, a BUSHEL, a CROWD, a HANDFUL, a DISTURBING amount of gray that had sprouted up around the front. What the fuckity fuck? I can't grow a measly three inches to be out of the 'little people' category (or an Olympic gymnast. I could have been a contender. Just sayin.. ) and somehow I have fucking gray hair. God has a sick sense of humor, I'll give him that. But I don't blame God. I blame Jenna Jameson for giving me a horrible visual when she 'gave birth' to her twins with UFC fighter Tito Ortiz. 'Giving birth" as in I picture the doctor walking into her twat garage and walking out with two bobbleheaded babies. I think I just sprouted two more gray hairs just typing about it.

I hate people who add me on as a facebook friend and can't be bothered to say "hi" on my wall after I add them. If you just want to be a snoop then at least be honest. Leave me a note like; "hey I don't really give a shit about what's going on in your life, I just wanted to see if you had gotten fat since high school and how fucked up your life is. Don't mind me. Just add me as a friend and kill the curiosity will ya?"
That I can respect. And I would most definitely add you. (Then delete you later after I'd taken a gander at your pictures). Fair is fair when it comes to facebook.

Other than that, more mundane stuff that's so beyond mundane that I can't even write about it here without feeling completely guilty that I'm subjecting you to such crap. (plus if you're really interested in my need to put Nutella on everything, at all hours of the day, just look at my twitter posts. I tweet mundane crap at least twice a day.)

Who needs a vacation? That would be yours truly.