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Tex Commando

I'm not angry, just outspoken

Category Archives: Tex on holidays

Change sucks.  Even good change.

900 square feet is enough until you add children.

College is hard. I think this is one of the reasons I stopped doing it.

I fucking love science. Who am I?

I have a favorite element – H. Can you guess why? (Brandi, you can’t answer)

It’s a good thing that I have a psychiatrist who thinks Ritalin is a good treatment for my ADHD otherwise I’d never get all this reading done.

A good BLF can make everything better.

People surprise and amaze me every day. That’s usually a good thing.

Thursday night is my new favorite night. I didn’t have one before, so I guess technically, it’s just my favorite night.

I haven’t gotten up from this chair in several hours. I think my ass might be fused to the cushion.

I should probably eat lunch.

Ok. That’s it. I am outta here.

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It’s big,

it’s loud,

it’s the GREAT WOLF LODGE!!!

There are kids running around everywhere. Kids that are followed by exhausted adults dragging ass behind them. Or spaced-out exhausted parents sitting around while their kids run from floor to floor doing their magic quest scavenger hunts. That’s what’s happening in the hallways outside the gigantic indoor water park.

Inside the water park it’s hot, humid, and heavily chlorinated. The chlorine is so strong that it burns your eyeballs and nostrils. Yeah, you end up blind and can’t breathe, but at least you don’t have to worry about playing in water that’s crawling with microorganisms that will give you the cruddy crud. The water slides are pretty awesome. I got to play last night, but I didn’t get to splash in toxic water today because I spent all day today finishing up my christmas presents. I will have a chance to play tomorrow.

That’s all for now. I have to drink some wine. I worked up a thirst with all of that vigorous knitting I did today.

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When we were active churchy mormons, I’d get out of Tooth Fairy duties on Sunday. It was the sabbath, after all. That worked for three kids. The fourth kid lost a tooth this past Sunday. I decided that I wasn’t going to invoke the sabbath in between sips of wine, so with full intentions of fulfilling my toothly fairy duties, I sent Vivian to bed. Mimi took great care to remind me. She made sure to remind Homie too.

Guess who didn’t show up? Guess who cried?  Guess who perpetuated the lie?

(I hate myself a little bit for lying to my kid about the tooth fairy and santa and all of that shit.)

So, I made an excuse for the tooth fairy. I told Viv that she must have had a lot of children to take care of. To which she replied that maybe the tooth fairy is a ‘he’. Immediately, this image flashed in my mind:

Except imagine him in tights.

Consoled, my little feminist decided to give it another try. Guess who forgot? Guess who tried to pull the ‘ol “Look what fell behind the bed” trick? Luckily, I stopped him from doing damage control which would have caused more damage.

After the kids all went to school, Homie came up with this:

Dear Vivian,

I understand that you have been upset that you haven’t received a visit from me after losing a tooth. I do apologize for it taking so long to get to you. You see, there is only so much magic in the world at any one time. Normally there is plenty for me to get to things quickly, but around Christmastime, the North Pole draws heavily on the magic. There has been a bit of a shortage this week before Christmas and it has taken me a little longer than I would have liked to come retrieve your tooth. I even have had to resort to working some during the day! Anyway, I finally made it and I hope you are not too disappointed. Have a Merry Christmas and remember to take good care of those adult teeth that take the place of those you are losing.

Love,

Tooth Fairy

If it doesn’t work, I’m going to come clean.

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With the holiday season upon us, I think it’s appropriate to talk about the reason for the season.

Presents

 Come on, you didn’t think I was going to say Jesus, did you? You know that he’s not the reason. Jesus is an afterthought.

Ok, I have the lights up, and the tree decorated. The presents are already bought because of those great black Friday deals. I narrowly escaped the pepper spray on my way to getting that Xbox. I feel sorry for the poor schmuck who got it squarely in the face. I just have a few more little things to order online then I’m done. Unfortunately, I’m hosting dinner this year for the whole family and I’m stressed out. I can’t wait for the holidays to be over. Oh yeah. And Jesus. Damn you, Jesus. It’s all your fault

 

(I was on a roll and had a whole paragraph about how I used to think Atheists should get over how they would overreact when people would say god like on The Pledge and stuff, but now that I don’t believe in god, my perspective has changed. However, I had to go do some shit and I lost my steam. Curse you, ADD.)

And since I don’t already have 8,000,000 things to knit already, I figure what’s one more? I’ll make one of these to give away so you can put it on you chrisfsmas tree.

I don’t have any rhyme or reason about who will get it. I know! The most creative ‘prayer’ will get it. It’s totally subjective, and just because you might have a better prayer than someone else, you might not get it anyway. Or I might put your names in a hat and pick a name (who actually uses a hat to do this?).

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I like tradition. I also like change. I’m not the kind of person who has to have the same things in the same order in the same way with the same people on the same dishes using the same recipes cooked the same way every year for the holidays. I like a big meal for TG. It just doesn’t have to be a ‘traditional’ meal. Get it?

For ten years, I had the ‘traditional’ meal. There were a few things added in over the years as I discovered new recipes, but nothing was EVER taken out. Everyone had their favorite thing, and no one could be disappointed. The food was good, of course, but it was always the same. I always lobbied for something different, something out of the ordinary, something interesting. I almost always got shot the fuck down. So, it was a bittersweet victory when I stopped going to West Virginia for TG and didn’t have to cook what everyone else insisted on.

I love the idea of eating Mexican or Chinese for TG dinner. Shit! Pizza would be a fun idea too. My family always rebels at this idea. I practically get tied up and beaten whenever I mention this. So, this year, I tucked my tail between my legs, put my head down, and cooked a delicious traditional meal using my usual delicious recipes. I left two of my least favorite things out of the equation- sweet potato balls, and banana pudding. Read the recipe and use your brain to figure out why I didn’t want to make those damned things AGAIN. And the banana pudding, well, it’s just been done over and over and over again. It’s so overdone, that it isn’t even appealing anymore.

So this afternoon, while I was in my fourth hour of cooking, everyone had something to say about having Chinese food for dinner. As in- they all wanted that instead of turkey and stuffing. Whaaaat!? They all looked at me like it was my fault that we had turkey for TG. Really? Because every time I mention doing something different, everyone screams bloody murder. And now they want something different? Fuck that!

BUT!!!!! They gave me shit because I didn’t make the sweet potato shit balls and the banana pudding. So, not only did they not want turkey and wanted Chinese, but since they had turkey, they felt cheated out of the full thing because they didn’t have those other two disgusting dishes. It was all I could do to tell them to go to West Virginia next year and eat that shit there. I didn’t have to, because Patricia read my mind and suggested to Trystan that they save their money and go there next year. Asshole.

Those little fuckers have some nerve. They really have no idea. Maybe it’s my ego. I will concede that perhaps my ego has a part in the reason I have not tried to make amends. But, relationships go both ways, and no effort has been made on the other side either.

The kids think they’re being funny by saying that “It’s just not Thanksgiving without Them.” It’s not funny. It’s hurtful. I’ll talk to them about it later when they are done acting like assholes long enough to actually have a serious conversation. For now, I’m going to drown my feelings in pecan pie, apple pie, and pumpkin tarts.

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  • for meaningful friendships that allow me to be myself without fear of rejection or judgement regardless of my religious beliefs
  • for red wine and fancy craft beer
  • for being the ‘godless and immoral’ one who is almost always the voice of reason
  • for guiltless, dirty, awesome sex
  • for the courage to leave the church
  • for being truly happy for the first time in my life (yeah. happiness is a real thing even for apostates)
  • for having an ENTIRE EXTRA DAY to do family fun stuff/shopping/work/relaxing
  • for being able to show off my awesome shoulders in sleeveless shirts and dresses
  • for shedding the baggage that makes me feel guilty/sinful for wearing a bikini this summer
  • for Bailey’s in my coffee
  • for being the Honorable Queen Bishop to my FMWAs

Anyone else out there who needs the support of friends when you feel like you have no where else you can go to be supported in your radical/immoral/apostate ideas? Hit me up. I have just the place for you.

 

 

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There’s just so damn much and nothing going on at the same time. Too much to actually be able to do what I want/need to do, and not enough to keep the kids from crawling up my ass.  I haven’t been doing nearly enough partying because I have to be sober to pick up my teenager from work in the evenings. That, and I have been putting my ass to bed by 10pm.

I haven’t forgotten about my experiment. I’d like to try out my evil master plan to take over the world on Dadsprimalscream , Pam the Realtor, and her daughter. Are you mofos game? I’ll be sending you an email with my contact information so we can get started on this bitch.

That’s all. I need to go make some coffee, and try to escape my house before my kids start wanting shit with me.

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