- Happy St. Patrick’s day! A day created for Notre Dame University alumni is upon us. Just kidding Boston College fans (sports fans will get this), today we celebrate the death of the Patron Saint of Ireland. We wear green, drink green beer, eat green jello, and tomorrow we shit and piss green (hopefully not if you are experiencing these symptoms get to the doctor NOW). Hell if you believe the internet (and who doesn’t) Mathews traces back to Ireland so I guess I could have walked around and said “Kiss me I’m Irish” today and been well within my rights. Luckily I didn’t because I can’t afford a lawsuit and did not want to blog from a hospital. Of course the correct spelling is Matthews but I had a father that didn’t like to pay child support or taxes so somewhere along the way before I made my “grand” entrance into the world he dropped the second T in his quest to be unique or defraud I let you decide. Yet one other thing that asshole left me a lifetime of “last name Mathews with one T” anytime I have to give my name out. Hell, half of my divorce documents have the wrong spelling. It drove my mom nuts when I was a child and it’s drove me nuts as an adult.
- Just Hammy and I tonight for our big Irish party. Hammy didn’t seem to fond of this muttering something under his breath about a IRA gun deal that went bad sometime ago. Best I could figure because I can’t remember any historic Irish-Russian beef that would have made him so bitter. Maybe he lost an ancestor in the Irish Potato Famine, or maybe he doesn’t like the color green. I’m tempted to wash his mouth out with soap and not just any soap, Irish Spring is in his future! I took pity on him and let him have a bottle of Dark Eyes and replenished his food bowl so he can rest up for the blonde bomber tomorrow evening. Even then he won’t get too much
tortureplay time tomorrow because we have softball practice. Rest up KGB operative, summer is approaching and these brief episodes of hamster water boarding you will be longing for instead of nightly play dates with your yetto be named buddy from Syria.Thought I’d share a little something tonight I’m slightly OCD (that’s Obsessive Compulsive Disorder for you Kentuckians), I kind of already knew this but today while cleaning up my email and not figuring out what folder to put a file in, and driving me frigging insane in the process. My email inbox has to be EMPTY, if it something that needs attention immediately I keep it in there until the task is completed. All my computer files have to be alphabetical, my contacts in my phone alphabetical also (even my mom gets her full name in my phone) last name first. No nicknames, pet names, ancient hieroglyphics, you are listed in my phone as Doe, John. My office manager buys me the same pens every time I do switch from black to blue just to “mix it up” sometimes. It’s just the way I’m wired, I’m not one of the psycho OCD people, but knowing my mother the way I do and my daughter it’s just funny how we all come full circle. My mother is full-blown OCD, and I think my daughter is well on her way. Tucking her in at night there is a checklist of what order her 8,132 blankets go on her. If you get them out-of-order she will quickly point it out and demand it gets fixed. Move something in her room when she isn’t here it’s the first thing she will point out. Just a little nugget I realized today at work when I was about to spontaneous combust trying to figure out where to save an email.
About it for tonight, big day at work tomorrow, NCAA tournament starts tonight, and hell I may just have a drink with Hammy to celebrate Mr. Patrick’s grand day.
Hammy passed out on some Dark Eyes Vodka (the cheap stuff), when I was married I ran the kitchen like an executive chef so I know what you are talking about, and yes the missing “T” was because my father changed his name so he could get out of all kinds of crap (he was douche).
So, what was Hammy’s drink of choice for St. Patty’s Day? Was his water bottle filled with green liquid? Maybe a truth serum to get him to talk?
I’m with you in the OCD camp. I thrive on routine for one, and anything in the kitchen must be a certain way. It creates arguments between my wife and I, even when she puts dirty dishes on the wrong side (to me) of the sink. Basically, anything food related, I’m pretty damn uptight about.
Well, hope you had a good one, and sorry about the missing “T”, I was wondering about that the other day, so glad you answered!
That would be helpful and I can say they are guest blogger posts Haha
Do I need to start a separate comment section for novels?
You are too funny! I am also OCD… Not psycho OCD but at times it can be rather overwhelming! I’m like Sloane in regards to knowing where EVERYTHING is/was and if it has been moved a centimeter I notice immediately! I think I might have a photographic memory or something… Maybe that’s just the blonde in me that sort of believes that… IDK LOL
Everything has to be color coordinated and matching in my world or I get all stressed out and anxiety sets in. Oh and there is the thing I have about the silverware in the dishwasher… Long story there and it would probably make a good post so I’ll save that little gem but I have been known to lose it over the whole silverware thing.
And I’m a complete neat/organizational FREAK! My pantry has everything facing the same direction, spaced the same distance apart, and organized in categories. I’m also known for yelling at the hubby and kiddos, “Everything has a place so put them back in that space!” Upon finding things just laying around the house and not put away.
My daughter, Brooklynn, is the same way about her millions of blankets at night. She’ll be 16 in August and YES I still have to tuck her in… I’m not complaining, well unless she totally freaks about her blankies then I tell her to cover herself up and let me know when she’s done… It’s nice that I’m still “allowed” to tuck her in as there aren’t many things I’m “allowed” to do anymore! Teenagers! Just wait you only have a few years until you’ll be in Teen Hell!
Unlike your Mom, mine is the complete opposite and rather Hoarder like in some aspects. We, my sissy, my bro, & I, all call her sewing room/office “The Hoard!” HA!
Okay, I’ve written a book again… Oh, did I mention that I was also cursed with ADHD? True story… Can’t you tell? LMAO
Salute’ my friend! You have made me crave a nice thick Guinness to celebrate good ‘ol St. Patty! Wishing you a terrific evening/night!
Much love always,
Lysa xx