The C-Word, The H-Word, and stuff that Sucks.

Really, what I'm pissed about has nothing to do with my support of President Elect Obama at all. And I was never even what you'd even call a Supporter, for fuck's sake. It's not like I made phone calls or canvassed neighborhoods. I didn't even have a sticker on the van or a sign in the yard or anything.

It's the fact that this man asked someone OTHER THAN MYSELF something about me which I would have preferred to keep private, then he went and shared what he'd learned about me - characterizing it as Rather Disturbing information - with other family members in a manner that clearly portrayed me as a crazed infidel. How totally high school.

It wouldn't have mattered what the actual information he repeated was. I hate the idea that he was talking about me at all, let alone the fact that what he was saying was not exactly complimentary. I hate the thought of him even speaking my name. It's not like he ever asks ME anything about ME.

Aaaaaaanyway, good stuff happened over the weekend too, so here ya go:

Saturday morning we got up and returned to Swamp Thing's street to pick up the bags full of canned goods for the Scouting For Food project. I didn't run into Swamp Thing, thankfully, so I got to enjoy the positive spirit of the event. The St. Louis area Boy Scouts gathered 2.2 million cans of food which will be distributed to local food pantries. I think that's so cool, especially having been on the receiving end of the generousity of food pantries not so long ago.

Saturday evening all five of us were invited to go to Buffy and Princeton's for - get this - a party she was having for the group of Obama supporters she'd worked with on the campaign. I wasn't really in the mood to hang with Buffy. I like her and everything, truly, it's just, I don't know.

You know how with some people you have to drink just enough to make them tolerable and yet you don't want to drink so much that you go spilling information that you don't really mean to spill? I was kinda nervous about that. But it turned out okay - I told Beebie she could have a friend over to spend the night, which kinda gave us an out after a couple of hours.

We picked Beeb's friend Lola up and the two of them were chatting in the back of the van. Here's Lola:

"And ohmygosh Beebie, the other day [insert long convoluted story about the intricate relationships between about twelve different queen bees and wannabes and the boys that they have crushes on], and ohmygosh, I almost said... The C Word!!"

And I'm thinking, which one?

I kinda guessed, based on the fact that no part of her convoluted story referenced either male or female genitalia, that she probably meant Crap, which is the least offensive C-word in my extensive 4-letter word lexicon (with which you are all affectionately familiar, you cocksuckin cunts).

Still Lola:

"And yesterday in my Math class, the teacher actually said The H Word! And then a whole bunch of people started talking about The H Word and what it's like and stuff..."

H word? What H word? Head? Lola's mom has told me she's heard about oral sex parties going on with junior high students. I seriously hoped that was not what Lola was talking about. Because... just... ick.

"You know, the H word! The one Ron says in Harry Potter?"

Tito got it instantly. "You mean BLOODY HELL???!!"

I'm stunned that other parents let their kids hang out with mine. It's kind of amazing that my kids have any friends at all.

So Lola stayed over Saturday night and the Sunday Morning breakfast plan was to make cinnamon rolls from the Auntie Anne's kit we bought from the Boy Scout fundraiser. The whole process took over two hours, and when they were all done, I couldn't even eat three bites, they were so sickeningly sweet it was disgusting.

That afternoon R took me shopping for what is going to be my Christmas Present. Here's a hint - It sucks. It's the suckiest gift anyone's ever given me.

It's a DYSON DC14!!! R bought it for me with his commission money. I fucking LOVE it! I can't believe how much I enjoy vacuuming. And the best part is dumping out the gunk with a press of a button. It's just awesome. It's without question my favorite vacuum I've ever used.

For the knitters, it's kinda like when you've always used the crappy circs from Michael's and not even realized they were crappy - then you get a hold of the Addi Turbos and it's like the heavens open up and your life as a knitter changes forever.

I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that I now own a four hundred dollar vacuum. I really don't think of myself as that kind of person. But dude, I LOVE this thing. If the house caught fire, I'd run inside to save it. After the kids were out, of course.

It's not the one with the ball, but this one's more powerful. Better suckage, ya know. And it's all about the supreme suckage.

Speaking of Supreme Suckage, as you probably either remember or assumed, I have to go out to Chez Inlaw tomorrow. I have to tell you honestly, I'm dreading it more than I've ever dreaded going out there before. And regular blogreaders and FIL-followers know that's quite a significant thing for me to say.

I know he's going to say something shitty to me. I absolutely know it, and R agrees. I'm so unbelievably stressed out right now, a full 24 hours in advance, and it's only going to get worse until it's over. Stay tuned.

At least I can look forward to Friday - I get to play with KOFA's little girl in the afternoon, and then R and I are going to Other Kevin's for a soiree in the evening.

It'll be a Kev-intensive day. :)