Ya Know What?

1)  Emilee is turning NINE next month. NINE. This will be her last year in the single digits, EVER. That’s a big deal to me. SNIFF.

2) Heading to Manhattan at the end of January. Drinking it up New York style, my friends!

3) My favorite FB status this week: “Sorry about all the typos lately, gays.” <– LOVE LOVE LOVE! I literally, laugh out loud when I think of this.

4) Thinks it’s important that you know that my two car vagina is not filled with cobwebs at the moment. Much to Random Esquire’s dismay. Cuz My Cookie loves my vag to be all cobwebby.

5) This past weekend, while laying in bed with Mr. Sticks, I asked him a question that I think he may have answered in a … sexist way.

His response to me, well, let’s just say that I did the *BLINK* for a second before laughing. A lot.

“I’m not sexist! Being sexist is wrong and being wrong is for women.”

Um … HAHAHHAHA

6) Today we had our weekly team meeting. Upon arriving at the meeting room (the table in the room where I sit) I am greeted by The Boobs in this manner:

“Don’t sit there!” as I go to sit in a certain comfey seat. This was said with such urgency I kind of did that half-sitting yet half-halting myself FROM sitting sweet move.

“OMG, why, what happened?” I asked, as I managed to right myself into a standing position.

“Nothing,” says Twitch as he manhandles me out-of-the-way. “I want to sit here.”

*BLINK*

7) Em looked super cute the other night when she had … I dunno, something cute going on.

“Em!” I said, “Let me take your picture! You look too cute.”

“Sorry,” she tells me. “No flash photography.”

*BLINK*

8 ) I think Mr. Sticks and I have hit a relationship first. For me, anyway. Kind of. Sort of. He started it!

I was using the bathroom at his house the other day, like LITERALLY sitting there peeing when he just walked in. On me. On me PEEING. In the bathroom. I must have stared at him in utter shock because he grinned and said, “Babe. We’re there.”

Um … okay. But then I couldn’t finish peeing while he stood there shaving. And he knew I was having a hard time because he goes, “Want me to run the water?”

Ugh. So embarrassing. I haven’t peed in front of someone since I was married! *Laugh*

 

By the way, that’s MY hand in that picture up there. HAHAHA Taken by the famous RE(tard). 

You Know What That Is? It’s GasLighting

Those are the words that My Cookie said to me when I was finished explaining the situation.

“Dude! You know what that is, don’t you? It’s Gas Lighting,” Cookie said to me.

“What the hell is Gas Lighting?” I ask.

“The term comes from an old movie starring Ingrid Bergman …” and as My RE(tard) went on, I listened and all of a sudden, I realized, HOLY HELL. My Cookie was right.

Okay, so what is Gas Lighting, you may ask just as I did? Let me give you the Wikipedia response to that:

From the film’s title, “gaslighting” has come to describe a pattern of psychological abuse in which the victim is gradually manipulated into doubting his or her own reality. This can involve physical tactics (such as moving or hiding objects) or emotional ones (such as denying one’s own abusive behavior to a victim.) The effect is to maintain the abuser’s self-image as a sympathetic person, while simultaneously priming the disoriented victim to believe that he or she is to blame for (potentially escalating) mistreatment.

Yep, I was Gas Lighted.

Tex-Ass, Em the Vampire, Roses and RE

1) So tomorrow, I’m heading to Texas for some work-related things. I’m only there a couple of days, and most of my time is filled up BUT I am looking forward to some warmer weather (hello 80 degrees!) and to two good nights out! I can flat-out party in Houston I have a feeling! Any suggestions on where to go??

2) Yesterday was Halloween. Emilee, my little darling, was a vampire and if I do say so myself, she looked great. I did her make-up including hollowed-out eyes, white skin, blood dripping from the corners of her mouth and crazy hair. This year, we headed over to her aunt’s house so that she could trick or treat with her cousins. And this year, she went from house to house for three hours. I had to force her to stop because her bag was so heavy she was having her dad or I carry it, and well, cuz I was damned tired of walking around.

3) Also, yesterday when we got home from work/school, we pull into the driveway and see these at my front door:

I, of course, being the huge sucker that I am for flowers, start ooohing and awing. Em and I jumped out of the car and run to the front door where we both bend down to sniff at the flowers when she says, “Do you think Gavin sent these to me?”

*Blink*

Awwwwww!

Wait. Wait just a damn minute. Gavin! Gavin who? I looked at her and said, “Well, let’s read the card!”

And she was sad when they weren’t from Gavin, who by the way, is her new major crush at school since she broke up with her other boyfriend. She sounds like who, do you guys know?  *Laugh*

4) And let me just point out, those roses? So NOT from RE(tard).

So, what do I have to say to that?

I call Bullshit. AGAIN.

The Boobs, QT-Vision, Blogable Stuff and Other Stuff

1) Lately, I’ve spent less time with The Boobs as our respective jobs have taken us a bit in different directions. While this makes me somewhat sad some of the time, most of the time I’m too busy to notice. Until this past week, when I pulled up a chair and had a chat with The Boobs.

“What’s up, Boobs? Haven’t seen you douches in a while,” I tell them.

“QUUUU-TEEEE!” they yell at me. “How was Florida? Did you get any sun?”

See now, I get this question because I’m so damn pale that when I actually DO get a tan, I’m just the normal color of everyone else. So yes, while I got lots of sun in Florida it’s hard to notice on me, as I’m typically vampire-ish color.

“Yep,” I say, as I pull my shirt over to show them my sweet tan line.

In the midst of me doing this Googlie immediately throws his hands over his eyes, looking like he was in a flat-out panic and shields himself from the view of my tan line. Twitch and I stare at him for a moment before we are like, “Dude what are you doing?”

“Oh. Um …” he says, all embarrassed.

“Holy hell. Did you think I was going to show you my boob, Googlie?” I ask.

CLEARLY you can see this was exactly what he thought I was going to do, yes. Twitch immediately starts laughing his ass off while Googlie turns bright red and is stumbling over a response.

“Dude. WTF, when have I ever even …” I’m starting to ask when before I can finish my question Twitch suddenly stops his laughing, stares at me and yells …

“WAIT! You weren’t, were you?” with a look of seriousness.

*BLINK*

WTF! Like I randomly show my tits to my coworkers??

“No. Today is not your lucky day, asshats,” I say.

*Laugh* You have to love them, just a little bit.

What’s A QT To Do …

After a douchebag?

I think it’s important to get yourself up, dust yourself off from all of the bullshit you were apparently rolling around in, and get over it.

So, that’s what I did. I got up, dusted myself off and decided to accept an invitation from a man for a … “meet”.  (Yes, I’m back to Meets!)

Now the interesting thing about this particular man is the fact that he is …

Gorgeous.

Utterly beautiful. Downright hot. Women stared at him wherever we went. Men stared at him wherever we went. I introduced him to a friend of mine, who is and always has been gay. He stared at my Meet. Then he stared some more. And then he looked at me and said, “I suddenly feel conflicted.”

*Laugh*

You know what I did? I stereotyped. I absolutely stereotyped this man because of what he looks like. And yes, probably because of the douchbag and my fair share of them over the years.

BAD BAD QT!

You know how that goes. Men that look like him are typically jerks. Men that look the way he does don’t have to treat women well because they have women fawning all over them. A man who looks like him would never want to date me. Blah Blah, I could go on and on.

Instead, I’d just like to say that I was the jerk for stereotyping this guy. Cuz really, he just proved me wrong. A whole heckuva lot wrong. Once I realized just how wrong I was, I actually laughed at myself.

I’m not saying he’s my boyfriend, I’m not saying it’s going anywhere. What I am saying, is that I had a great meet (that turned into two meets) with an extremely enjoyable, handsome man.

And yeah, that old favorite saying of mine is true.

Never judge a martini by its color. 

Emilee Stuff, Dad Stuff and QT Stuff

Emilee is gone with her dad for a week. A whole week.

*BLINK*

It’s one thing for me to travel a bit for work, as I’m away working, drinking, doing whatever. It’s a complete other thing to have HER gone from me for a week. As soon as I dropped her off at her dad’s, I drove away feeling …

Like shit.  :(

In other Emilee news, this past weekend, she in her most serious Emilee voice said, “Mom, when I grow up I think I’m going to work at Hooters,” with a bit of her thinking look. “They have a gift shop!”

Well. There is that.

——————-

I am not sure I have ever mentioned this before, but I’m a Daddy’s Girl. Admittedly. Proud of it. I have no issues with being a Daddy’s Girl. I, in fact, LOVE IT. Take pride in it.

So yesterday, when my dad knew I was down in the dumps without my girl, he offered to spend some time with his girl. AKA me. So we hit the mall. With his credit card. And just so you know, this was his idea and not mine.

WOO HOO! When I showed him a shirt I was buying (with  his credit card) he eyed at it for a minute and asked, “Where’s the rest of it?”

*Giggle*

So two pairs of shoes, one pair of jeans (skinny), three eye shadow’s, one mascara and four shirts later we came home, where I made my dad his favorite dinner.

It’s not often a girl that’s almost 40 gets that kind of spoiling from her daddy, I know.  Hmmm …

Yeah, I’m okay with that.

——————-

Random Esquire Loves My Vag! Vodka and Cologne

Once … long ago, My Cookie told me that I had to warn the man I was dating at the time that my vagina was … shall we say … um, large.

Actually, it went more like this.

“You should warn him.  You need to warn him that your vagina is the size of a canyon.”

And thus began our back and forth of the very graphic and very explicit insults of  … my vagina.

I believe we went from my Canyon-sized vag to my vag being the size of a two-car garage to my cobwebby vag (from lack of use) to my hollowed-out vag with the echo … and now we are at the black mold vag.

I just wanna say … does it seem to anyone else like RE focuses on my vag … a lot? 

THAT’S RIGHT BABY! Black mold or not, RE LOVES MY VAG!!

 

On another note, it came to my attention that I was out of vodka this week. I invited someone over for a drink (got shot down, btw) and realized that I had no vodka.

And I fixed that. Just so you all know.

 

Annnnnnnnnnnd in other news, I’m going to Germany. Anyone gonna be there in mid-Sept??

 

Blowholes and Movie Stars, Airport Friends and San Fran

In the land of QT, when there are many drinks being consumed, QT makes herself some notes in her phone to remember things to blog about. Because of course, drinking like I’m homeless does sometimes affect my memory. So I opened my Memo’s this morning and found this:

1) Blowholes?

I stared for a minute at this truly trying to remember what the hell I was trying to remember, when it hit me. Blowholes! So in San Francisco, someone was telling me a story about a man dying by falling into a blowhole. I kinda looked around at the others at the table, cuz really, in my head, all I can think of is … a blowhole? As in, on a whale??

And I’m thinking he fell into a whale’s blowhole? WTF how does something like that even happen?!

I knew, even in the middle of the 29 drinks I had, that my thinking was incorrect but … still I was hesitant to say something, he seemed so sad and so sure of what happened.

See I don’t live near an ocean, I’ve never lived near an ocean, I don’t get … ocean things.  I just knew that my imagery of a man falling into a whale’s blowhole was probably incorrect. I also knew that laughing (because honestly, that image in my own head kinda made me want to giggle) was the wrong way to react as well. So instead I just kept my mouth shut and looked sad too.

And that is how it works in QT land.

——————————————-

While in San Francisco, I was waiting for the elevator with some friends when I look at a man standing in front of us and realize …

*HOLY SHIT*

IT’S THIS GUY:

Hooteriphic, I Can Be Such a Chick, Lactose Intolerance and Other Randomness

1) I must thank a new(er) friend for introducing me to the term, “HOOTERIPHIC!” See, when you walk up the steps to say hi to her and she immediately yells that out? I figure my boobs just got the verbal equivalent of a thumbs up.

2) I was in an interesting situation this past Friday night. One that upset me to the point of crying about it on Saturday morning. Does anyone else become emotional (like spewing tears) when they are sleep-deprived? GOD, I hate that about me. I can be such a … girl at times like that. Blech.

3) I find it hilarious to hear two grown men talk … delicately to each other about certain things. I overheard the conversation of  one saying to another, “I can be … lactose intolerant.”

Which basically means he either farts up a shit-storm or shits his pants.

The other responded with “Yes, I have some of those issues myself.”

Which basically means he too, either farts up a shit-storm or shits his pants.

New(er) friend and I stared at each other before busting out laughing at the … delicacy of the shit-storms.

4) Yet another night this past weekend, a friend of mine looked around frantically and yelled, “Where’s the phone charger?! I need to take it to the bathroom!”

*Blink*

Well, okay then.

5) So while we all know how much I enjoy the Irish accent, there is a man I met recently who has an English accent. And let me just say … Mmmmmmmmm Hmmmmmmmm.

6) I thought Random Esquire broke up with me. Then I got this text:

“Miss you! Love you! Kiss you! Hug You!

Cop a Feel “

AWH! How sweet!

7) I’m off to San Francisco this week my friends, I may be blogging a bit … maybe some fun pics. Maybe some fun beer. Maybe some fun QT. Maybe Maybe Maybe.

8 ) I think it’s important that you all know, a girl I know on Facebook posted about how she sprained her toe, and I didn’t comment on how I hope it wasn’t her camel toe, because I’m an adult.

*Laugh*

Have a great week my friends!

Shit I Should Try Harder to Remember

Yep, this is all shit I should try harder to remember. All learned from one Miss Carrie Bradshaw.

———————————————————

If a man wants you, nothing can keep him away. If he doesn’t want you, nothing can make him stay.

Stop making excuses for a man and his behavior.

Allow your intuition (or spirit) to save you from heartache.

Stop trying to change yourself for a relationship that’s not meant to be.

If a relationship ends because the man was not treating you as you deserve, then heck no, you can’t “be friends.” A friend wouldn’t mistreat a friend.

Don’t settle.

If you feel like he is stringing you along, then he probably is.  (This one makes me laugh out loud. Remember my listening to your gut post?)

If he keeps changing his mind about the relationship, take that as a BIG sign that he is unstable. Do you really want to be with a man like that?

The only person you can control in a relationship is you.

There’s only one ‘reason’ a man dumps you; he doesn’t want you.

You really do have to kiss a few frogs before finding the prince.  (I may hold the record here for most frogs kissed.)

Always put yourself and your happiness first.

Always have your own set of friends separate from his.  (SO TRUE!)

If he doesn’t call, he just isn’t that interested.  (Hello, He’s Just Not That Into You!)

Don’t let him place rules on you that he isn’t willing to follow himself. Double standards shouldn’t be patronized.  (And double standards suck ass.)

Actions speak louder than words.