I’m sure it doesn’t seem like it, but I try really hard not to complain TOO MUCH on my blog. I have no idea if I’m successful at this or not. The thing is, I’m a complaintaholic. That is: Once I start, I can’t stop. I’m forever a glass-is-half-empty kind of person. Seriously: Drearily pessimistic.
Let me preface this by saying: I’m one lucky bitch. I have a heroic husband, two insanely funny kids, and great family and friends. I have a roof (actually, two, but I’ll get to that in a moment) over my head and I live comfortably.
But I’m losing it now and I have some repressed complaints ready to bust out like they are Pamela Anderson’s boobs trying to break free of her dress. Yes, that repressed. My main stress? We have a house in MA that WILL NOT SELL. It has been on the market for over a year. OVER. A. YEAR. I really try not to think about it too much because I get too wound up about it. And if I focus on it too much, I get caught up in my own self-pitying demise.
For some reason though, it’s really hitting me hard today. I’m so frustrated with the whole ordeal that I want to scream. It has gone through numerous price drops and at this point we will definitely lose money on it — that’s a given. This loss does not include the hemorrhaging of money every month while we continue to pay the mortgage and utilities on it. I’m really starting to freak out. I need someone to tell me it’s okay. And mean it. (And when I say someone, I mean a buyer with a decent offer.)
I have a huge freelance project that I really want to be a part of, but it would take up so much of my time that, unless we get the kids into school, I most likely will not be able to participate. With the uncertainty of our house selling, the freelance work would need to cover the costs of school/daycare. Honestly, I don’t think it will cover it and the idea of worrying about that every month is probably not worth it. Which leaves me a little depressed because I’m not sure what I’m going to do when camp is over very very soon. Have a mental breakdown, maybe?
I love these kids but once you get a taste of freedom, it is so hard to go back to full-time again, with no end in sight. Oh right — kindergarten. Like a million years away. The other option is a nanny/babysitter. We’ve been blessed with a couple of great ones in the past, but I would prefer to get the kids out of the house, especially since I work from home and since we constantly have to worry about noise level. And the cost is not that different from school. Plus, they are making friends at camp, and I love the social aspect of school/daycare for them.
[Tangent: In general, I don’t like to ask people if they will babysit unless I know already that they are babysitters, e.g. through friends. I get all nervous about putting people on the spot and making them feel like they must oblige. But today one of the kids’ camp teachers came over to tell me about the kids’ day and then said if I ever wanted a babysitter, she would love to sit for these guys. I almost tripped over myself and then ran around in a circle trying to find pen and paper before she changed her mind. GET OUT OF MY WAY, PEOPLE! A great babysitter is hard to find.]
[Back to scheduled whining] Where was I? Oh. Bitch bitch bitch. Want to buy a house?
In light of all this, I’ve been thinking about become a whore — a blog whore, that is. I’m thinking of expanding my blog á la J.Lo; i.e. triple-threat it; expand my blog sections; soup it up with some ads. Maybe start a conference called BlogWhore and then cap it all with a perfume called Bl-Ahhhh-G Me. I have a feeling I would make enough to buy a donut (once a year) but I’m still curious. After reading all the controversial posts about ads, I realize I may be shamed, shunned, and ousted off people’s bloglists (yes, all 5-7 of you). So I apologize in advance if this offends. I don’t mean to. I won’t give the “I need to feed my babies” speech, but if you read above, you will see that ultimately, it might keep me from having a mental breakdown. So (for the mathematicians in some of you), Blog Ads=Keeping Janet Out Of Loony Bin.
I’m still kind of wishy-washy on the whole ordeal. I may trip over my own feet and scratch the whole thing. (If I’m anything, I’m non-committal.) But since I spend so much time in love with blogs, I figure I may as well jump into the blorgy.
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On the topic of bitching and moaning, here are other things I hate (or vehemently dislike):
* Rachel Ray. Seriously. If you’re a fan, please share why. I demand an explanation for this tomfoolery.
* The freakin’ people who keep ringing our doorbell looking for the 3rd floor apartment which is having some kind of open house. There are three buzzers, people. If you are looking for #3, do you push the middle buzzer? Go away. I can’t have idiotic neighbors.
* These young celebrity brats in Hollywood (btw, if you haven’t already, check out What Would Tyler Durden Do? Best commentary ever.)
* People who don’t clean up after their dogs. Everyday is like walking through a minefield, with the twins yelling, “Watch out for the dog poop!” (Actually, Bean now says hi to the dog poop and waves at it.) Inevitably, we come across shit that has clearly been stepped in, as evidenced by the shit-footprints in the area. And I silently say to those victims, wherever they are, “Fuck, I hope your day got better.”
* Pedestrians who barrel over my kids and act like we are deliberately out to ruin their day. I have a nice pile of dog shit you can step in if you want to see ruined day.
* Stupid-ass clients.
I have more but I’ll stop here.
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This is a shit post, but it’s my birthday so fuck it. It’s also why I’m not linking anything. Yes, for my birthday you are going to google it, people. Thank you. Today I am 3-4. I think. I always have to think about it since after 25, it seemed pointless. (See? Drearily pessimistic.)
Anyway, thank you all for the previous birthday happiness wishes. 
And those stylin’ clothes? I am cheap. Target. Marshall’s. TJ Maxx. Sales racks. Those crocs and those overpriced jibbitz are the most expensive things on those little bods.
And btw, cornhole is one weird phenomenon. I think it’s like beer pong for Midwesterners…? Which means it’s awesome.
That oughta do it.
Good night.
18 Comments
Sorry. Not too many words of encouragement here. I think I’m a glass-half-empty kind of gal too. I’d like to tell you to hang in there and don’t you worry that house is going to sell, but yeah–like I said, I’m not that kind of gal. I do wish you lots of luck with it though, cause you know, luck is all you need, right?
Yes, my beloved SIL, you do enjoy a good kvetch. And this is why we love you. Even your brother just read over my shoulder and said, “yeah…she does like to complain.” This is good, because then G-d won’t give you anything new to kvetch about. We wub you tons, as we hope you know, and we miss you. Expect some drunken phone call late tomorrow night.
FingKASIL: holy shit that made me laugh. Thank you. Glad my brother is not shy. Aren’t you glad we didn’t move to SF? Have a blast tomorrow. I usually drunk dial L, but I was too bombed last week.
The housing market freaks me out too. I’d be totally happy to leave the ridiculous DC metro area; too bad we have to stay until 2010 for Blair’s schooling. I’m thankful we own a townhouse but dealing with the payments on 40% of my old salary and someone’s school-related bills is just no fun. Latest I read was that the housing market will recover around 2009. Eeek!
Anyway, ads or not, I’ll still be a loyal reader around these parts. Mama’s got to make ends meet, and ads are way easier than any of the other alternatives!
Happy birthday again - have a hug or two (or hard drink) on me!
happy birthday! sorry, was that during your hilarious drunk fest a couple of posts ago?
I have to say, your complaining cracks my butt.
I’d be spewing pure bile if I had two mortgages. I am here to say, “hang in there”. but that’s all I’ve got. maybe you can offer the digits for the services of a sexpert that you might know to sweeten the deal?
bean - waving at poop? wonder where she got that from?
love it. love weirdness of all kinds. if you do decide to include ads, I’ll stil read, but with a total sense of superiority because I will still have a pure, virgin wordpress blog and you won’t.
‘m out!
For what it’s worth:
Ads won’t scare me away from your site! Put ‘em up! See what happens! Why not?
I neither hate nor love Rachel Ray, but I despise Alton Brown.
The RE market is one reason I feel trapped in MA. When did John and I buy our condo? At what is now considered to be the month when the market peaked. Sigh.
Happy birthday, to you, glass-Half-empty-Mama. 3-4? You’re a young thing.
Eh, misery loves company and so the only words I have for you is that my house took 7 months to sell. While we were trying to sell it someone stole a bunch of stuff (supposedly) that belonged to the people who staged our house (as purported by the stagers). All I know is, when the stagers packed up, we had an extra $3000 bill for missing items. Not only that, our old house was a straight line to the county general hospital, one city block away…and let’s just say one day there was a bloody body dumped there. Nice eh? The joys of urban living.
Anyhoo, Happy Birthday! One never needs an occasion to complain.
PS I’d totally click on some cool ads here. Whatever works. A donut is a donut you know? Especially if it’s a cruller. I do so love a good cruller.
Well.
1. Happy Birthday.
2. The housing market SUCKS and I hope you can claw your way out of it soon.
3. Good luck on all that other stuff…
4. Rachel Ray is SO freakin upbeat, you find yourself backing up when she’s on t.v. Plus, cooking shows? No thanks. (Unless they’re the fancy schmancy dessert shows…)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HM! Your complain post really made me laugh. The housing market is pretty crappy now. I’m so sorry.
Love the J-Lo idea. You could go all out. “Halfmama’s Blaaaag Me is now half off!” You’d make so much money. Hey, it’s your birthday and you can put ads on your site if you want to. 
By the way, I think Tyler Durden would bitch slap Rachael Ray.
Longtime lurker, first-time poster (hi, Mom). We’d buy your house, but we’d have to sell ours first, so then you’d have to buy ours or something. Not so helpful. Anyway, I say add the ads. You can make the frames around them all pretty-pretty! Miss you guys in Boston. Love, SIMCIL (Stuck-in-Mass Cousin-in-Law)
Housing market scares the shit out me as well… we have to try to sell next year (I think) and we’ve resigned to possibly losing money on it since it’s suck to have to pay mortgage on a house from halfway across the world. Have you looked into renting it out - to graduate students or otherwise ‘responsible’ people? I think you have to hire a management to run it for you, though.
HAPPY 34th birthday! Hell, I’ve been telling everyone I’m 37 for the past year and I won’t turn 37 for couple more weeks… it gets like that after 32…
Poop - that’s so funny. LN and I went for a walk last night and it happened right in front of us. A dog pooped while LN watched fascinated (hmmm, maybe it’ll help with potty training…? Or maybe she’ll start pooping on our lawn) and then the owner walked off without picking up the said gem. LN wanted to find it. Blecchhhh! No thank you, sweetie.
Ads - I wouldn’t give a shit whether you tattooed the ads on your belly - I’d still read the blog. However, you’ll have to let me know how it all works - will I have to click on a few to help out? Hey, I can click all day between projects. Yeah, I still don’t know how it all works.
Rachel Ray - I think she’s on uppers… or whatever. I want some.
I don’t know if he has his own show or not but, as far as chefs go, I like Chef Ramsey - he can be such an asshole but usually rightfully so (I watch Hell’s Kitchen - DVRed) and nothing seems to get past him. I wouldn’t know if he’s a good chef though unless I tasted the food…
I’m so out of touch… who’s Tyler Durden?
And that, my dear, is me over staying my welcome with a longass comment.
I feel ya, Halfmama.
I had a house in Las Vegas on the market for about 10 months, and it was painful.
We thought everybody was moving to Vegas, but we kept getting these sh*t offers. Though in hindset, I should have taken the full -priced offer plus they wanted me to pay $12,000 in their closing closts. WTF! I welched, but that turned out being the best deal, I took about $17K cut after that.
Ahhhhhh, to have a crystal ball!
Oh, and Happy B-day! I hope you had a FingKA day.
happy belated birthday!
and don’t worry about complaining about the house you still own in MA. that would totally stress me out too. yikes!
i think it would be perfectly OTAY to put up ads. they don’t bother me at all. hey, i envy people who can even make enough for a mcdonald’s ice cream cones off of those things. and if you can. why not?
Ugh, I hate days like these. Wish I was there to give you a glass-is-half-empty kinda hug because, well, I’m exactly the same way. Too bad you had to feel this way on your birthday — shoulda been out partying and drinking it up and… uh, oh, wait — no, no. We don’t get to do that in our thirties any longer, do we? Yeah, it’s more like pass out around 9:30 at the sheer thought of going out after the kids are in bed!
Here’s the bright side: you share a birthday with my Big Guy!
Happy Birthday, Halfmama!
I despise Rachel Ray. D-E-S-P-I-S-E.
Happy birthday. Hope it was - er - bitchin’?
Happy belated b-day … so with you on the stupid-ass clients, Rachel Ray (I used to love her, before the highlighted hair and low-slung jeans, flaunting her gigantic rock on her ring finger), the general decline of American civilization led by the over-wealthy and undereducated, etc. I don’t see as much poo, though, other than what T has been leaving in his bathtub when we take the diaper off too soon. So gross.
Ads? Go for it. I’m putting up some myself. The BlogHer ad network is accepting applications, FYI. I like them because you can refuse to advertise X or Y.
Sending house-selling vibes your way.
Despise Rachael Ray, and I hate that we have the same name.
i DESPISE rachel ray. there’s something about her . . . every time i hear her say E-V-O-O i wanna kick her A-S-S.
add the ads - just no RR ads!
i, too, am a glass half empty . . . so i usually try to fil it with some vodka or bourbon.
sending you positive RE related house selling vibes . . .
oh, and happy belated birthday . . . now i’m gonna go look for that vodka and have a drink for ya! ; )
Mama Nabi - Tyler Durden is Brad Pitt’s character from “Fight Club”