Hi Sassyland: Parenting ain’t for sissies, you guys.

Lately, things have been pretty tense in the house with my extremely moody teenager.

Let’s just say that I probably won’t be getting the Parent of the Year Award this year. Ya wanna know why? M’kay…

I told her, and I quote, “Get the fuck OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!” the other night. Yeah…it wasn’t my best moment. Here’s the deal, yo…

Parenting ain’t for sissies, y’all…

These creatures that I brought into the world are beautiful, articulate, highly intelligent and downright frustrating as all hell. I knew the minute I said it I’d feel bad about it…and I did – sorta. But I’ll be honest…it took awhile for the eye rolling and the heavy sighs and the stomping around the house and the door slamming and the acting like a complete twit to bring me down to that level.

So here is what I’m going to fucking do about it:

I’m going to leave the room and compose myself from now on. I’m going to focus on positive reinforcement instead of getting pissy about the attitude.

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Every time I get an eye roll, I’ll tell her that her eyes are REALLY BIG AND BRIGHT TODAY…

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When she stomps up the stairs, I’ll tell her I love her shoes or socks.

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When she slams the door, I’ll tell her she’s got one heck of an arm.

 

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And when she talks back to me, I’m gonna ask her “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?!”

…I may have to work on that last one. Your suggestions are welcome.

So I’m going to LAVISH her with positive reinforcement, asking about her day – which I normally do, but I’m going to take it to a new level. I’m going to schedule time for us to just hang out together alone. Just the two of us. I’ll show interest in different ways with regards to the things that make her tick. I’ll cook her special meals…all to win her back and extinguish the attitude. Then, at least I won’t be able to say I didn’t try. And if it continues…I’ll plunk her ass in therapy so quick it’ll make her head spin.

 

What Not To Do: Century Link Salesperson

Your name may be on our football and soccer field in Seattle, WA…but you are a fucking asshole, Century Link.

Just got a call at my office from our friendly Century Link Sales Representative. Talking about how the lines to our office are actually theirs and that Comcast is “utilizing” them and are simply the “billing party” and that we should switch.

Sales 101:

  1. Don’t ask me to tell you how much I’m being charged before you tell me how much you’re willing to charge me.
  2. No, I will not send you my current bill so that you can make a lame-assed attempt at “beating a price”.
  3. Don’t talk to me as though you’re “just going to go ahead and switch me over” because I’m not giving you permission to do so.
  4. When I say to you “For the record, in case this call is being monitored for customer assurance, that I am NOT giving you permission to do any kind of service change whatsoever.” Do NOT come back with, “This isn’t the 90’s………” I will call you out on your condescending tone and will promptly end the call.

Dear Century Link,

Matt Davidson is a douche. His direct line is 1-877-804-4180. If you call back and I am the one to answer the phone, you will certainly be told to never contact this office again.

Sincerely,

The Property Manager BITCH of the UNIVERSE.

 

Sassy Movie Review: All Is Lost

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Good ol’ Robert Redford, you guys.

He’s such a cool fella. I’d imagine he’d think I’m pretty cool, too. Potty mouth and all.

So we have that cool Amazon Fire Stick Thingy that that crazy sunuvabitch Gary Busey yammers on about in his incoherent way in those commercials. Something about jamming a seashell into the USB port on your TV? I dunno what the fuck that guy is on…but I’m steering clear of it.

Because we are Amazon Prime Members, we get a buncha stuff to look at with this stick thingy. TV shows, movies…I think you can even play games.

ANYWAY…back to the show.

It’s basically a tale of a man and his sailboat and survival and storms and life rafts, and being alone and coming to terms with your life, how you’ve lived it and how you have affected humanity. How the will to live is so very strong.

Making something out of nothing until there’s truly nothing left. And just when you’ve lost all hope…you find something to live for.

photo credit: Dave Alberti, long time friend.

SassyBraggin: Music

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Hiya Guys,

Have I mentioned how talented my friends are? I mean…my friends dance and sing and write music and play instruments…and they are MY FRIENDS!!!!!! Like, they like me and stuff. HOW FUCKING LUCKY AM I?!?!?!

I KNOW, YOU GUYS!!!!

We went to go see our friend Kurt Lindsay play at a local coffee shop tonight and he let my kiddo sing with him on a song and he played for her as she sang another song!

So I want you to hear this because I’m shameless like that. I’ll try to “embed” this properly tomorrow at some point, because right now? I’m laying in bed on my celly and I just drank some NyQuil so I need to post this quick before I become comatose.

This first video is my daughter Katie singing “Royals” accompanied by our good friend Kurt Lindsay who graciously let her crash his gig last night. You’re just gonna have to trust me that I’m not going to feed you spam here because for some UNGODLY DAMN REASON, WordPress is not allowing me to post TWO video’s here – so you have to click the link. http://youtu.be/om4kQN2CWK4?list=UUgmJWhHK3SaAPJsIkX8KTow

This second one is Kurt and Katie singing together the song “Falling Slowly”.

 

Sunuvabitchin’ Interception…the agony of defeat.

31 seconds left in the game…Seahawks on the 1 yard line. We had 4 downs in front of us. Things were looking REALLY good.

The ball was snapped and as if in slow motion…it was in the hands of the opposing team. An interception. Holy fuckballs.

I stood in silence. My hands on my cheeks. I really wanted to rub my eyes and make what I had just seen go away. But it didn’t. The “terrible awful” had just happened. We lost.

I wandered aimlessly around the home of a friend of my aunt and uncle that we watched the game with. My path uncertain…but I could not stand still or sit still for even one more moment in this house full of people. I think it was my way of working through my grief. Walking in circles. I’m not sure if anyone was following me or making sure I didn’t touch any of their valuables because I feel as though my sense of hearing and peripheral vision had escaped my body somehow. I needed to work through my thoughts in solitude.  A few people came up to me and said something…but I have no fucking idea what they said. I mean…their mouths were moving…but my  sensory perception was so gone I’d just nod and walk away. Sure…there was profanity being spewed from even the most demure mouths. If I had a dollar for every F-bomb that was dropped in the house where I watched the game? My Maui trip for 2016 would probably be paid for.

As the night wore on, I chugged some Nyquil – for the cough, people…for the cough – as I laid in my bed waiting for the sweet nectar to take over, I began thinking about what this loss meant. What I settled on – before the effects of the Nyquil took me into a drunken stupor – was that I was heartbroken for our team more than myself. Their faith in themselves and the love they have for each other are clearly the reason they made it to the Super Bowl in the first place. Their love for the fans. We truly feel it. Perhaps that is why it was so hard to shake that feeling we all had. It was almost something that couldn’t be put into words. I can tell you it was a sadness. A deep sadness. A sadness that’s almost embarrassing to be feeling because, well, it’s “just a game”. Well, you know what? To some people? It’s not just a game. To me, it’s not just a game. To our team? It’s not just a game.

So today, we were able to get out of bed and head to work. Somehow. We have been asked what we thought of the game yesterday. Somehow we respond as to not appear to be sour – wait…that’s just me. I’m personally attempting to tap into the grace that Russell Wilson and Pete Carroll have displayed since that moment last night. The team is on their way back home – and perhaps other cities experience this as well – but my hope deep down is that we show as much excitement and support as we did one week ago when we lined the streets of our beautiful and hopeful team as they headed towards the airport. Flags waving, arms flailing, faces painted…showing the world what the meaning of The 12th Man really is. And that is a love for your team and it’s players and coaches, not just when they are winning. But when they lose, too.

Our boys fought hard this year. What an amazing year they gave us. I can’t help feel that I owe them something. Something more than my screams at a television can offer. They can have my love. They may not know what that means. But to me it means they have my heart. There isn’t a more precious gift I can give than that. The definition of our fight this year will not boil down to one play. It won’t. I won’t let that happen. I will remember the amazing plays and comebacks that were made. The faith that was shown. The love the players have for each other. The brotherhood that has been created. The love of The 12th Man.

Here’s to Super Bowl 50. Our team will be stronger, wiser and closer than ever when the 2015 season begins. And the 12’s will be there. For every exciting step of the way. In Pete Carroll and Russell Wilson and everyone on our team – we trust.

“Every setback has a major comeback.” ~ Russell Wilson #GreaterIsComing

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Sassy Fashion: What not to wear. Seriously.

You guys. Have you heard of Zulily? If not, you need to download this free app IMMEDIATELY.

Seriously. Do it now. We will wait.

You buy clothes, housewares, shoes…for the whole family. With one caveat…YA gots ta snatch that shit up quick cuz it’ll sell out! Okay, two caveats…no take backsies, so you better be damn sure you look at the size charts and measure and check and double check before you click that fucking purchase button.

Zulily has brought a lot of joy to my life. It’s also brought disappointment, bewilderment, shock and awe and pleeennnnnttttyyyyy of WHAT THE FUCK moments.

Let me explain in a series of pictures. I present to you, my…
Zulily WTF Moments of Today, January 30, 2015:

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I know, you guys…I know.

And the only thing that could horrify me more than this?

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This:

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And almost daily, I see something that highlights various nether regions of the female anatomy. As evidenced here, in an abstract manner.

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Another couple inches lower and we would be almost exactly portraying where this lovely woman’s vagina is located and by the looks of things…it might be spiky. ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK!
And if you want to know what a uterus looks like on clothing that is defined as, “Boho Chic with a Tribal Flare” feast your eyes on this one:

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Look, I know I’m not the most fashion forward person walking the planet. Not. Even. Close. But even I can see when something is so motherfucking ridiculous that it’s begging to be made fun of.