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Tex Commando

I'm not angry, just outspoken

Tag Archives: Barney & Friends

My hope is that I’ll get it all out of the way in advance of her arrival. That might not happen, though. What might end up happening is that momentum thing that I talked about a few months ago. Maybe I’ll get rolling talking about my Ladyfriend Lovergirl and not be able to stop. Oh well, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

#2 is a realization I had back in February. It caused a minor mental crisis until my oh-so-candid friends talked me down off the ledge. Now, after having realization #1, this one is in my mind once again. Are you tired of all the lead-up to my crazy thoughts? Welcome to my head.

I’m going to get to see and talk to best friend in the whole wide world whom I love spending time with and we will be living in the same house and I’ll get to see her WHENEVER I WANT!!!

This is a good thing! I can honestly say that there has never been a time that I haven’t loved spending time with Brandi. (Well, there was that one time at the park when our kids were little, but that doesn’t count.) There is never a dull moment when we are together. Now, with love involved, our moments are even better.

Are you wondering where the need to talk me down off the freak out ledge comes in?

I have other friends too. I do fun, impromptu things with them on the days there are no children at home with me. Things like drunk knitting with my Wednesday ladies. Or sushi. Or inviting myself over to a friend’s house when she tells me she is cooking latkes. Or a day trip to go yarn shopping (don’t laugh at me, I love this kinda thing) Still don’t see the problem?

Am I going to keep doing that? Of course I won’t always just run off with my friends. I will have a relationship to maintain. The problem is that I don’t see myself doing anything but staying home with Brandi. I see myself always choosing to spend time with her. I see the potential to get completely wrapped up in Brandi and losing Tex.

This has everything to do with how intense my feelings for her are. I’m sure the fact that we have always lived so far away from each other and only saw each other once or twice a year for so many years has something to do with it too. I know the ‘honeymoon’ will end. Eventually we will get used to being able to see and talk to each other IN PERSON. EVERYDAY. Life will become normal. The intensity will wane.

But I don’t want it to.

So, promise me something. Will you?

Promise me that if I don’t hang out with you for awhile you won’t be mad at me. Promise me that you will keep trying to include me in things even if I say no for a few months. Promise me that you will tell me if I am neglecting you. Also, promise me that you won’t think it’s weird if Brandi hangs out with us too. She’s an excellent person. You’ll love her. AND?! She doesn’t drink. I have my own built-in DD.

OK, that’s it. Today I get the keys to our place. I can’t wait!!!


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I’m funny.

I’m clever.

I’m cool.

I’m bold.

I’m full of energy.

I don’t gossip.

I don’t give a shit.

In reality

I stay annoyed when I should just tell you that you bug the shit outta me.

I try too hard.

I don’t try hard enough.

I talk about people.

I worry that I don’t do enough.

I get overwhelmed and shut down.

I’m lazy.

Is your reality really real? Is the story you are telling yourself really the truth? And now, as I sit here and write those two questions, I question my own perception of my thoughts and reality. Damn! I really need to get out of my brain.

(How many times does one person really need to say really?)

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I don’t care if you don’t like it, I’m watching the Real Housewives. No matter how fake they are.

Not only am I WATCHING it, I’m watching ALL OF THEM!!!! EVERY NIGHT!!!! Orange County, New York, and New Jersey.

Also? I’m watching Andy Cohen afterwards.

It’s heaven.

Well, almost heaven. Like, if I actually believed in heaven. Which I don’t. But, if I did THIS is what it would look like:

  • fake tans
  • fake boobs
  • big lips
  • blonde hair
  • lots of drunk ladies
  • big houses
  • bankruptcy (well, maybe not this one)
Don’t worry, I’ll get it all out of my system before you come back home. I will. Probably. Well, maybe not. You know how I am.

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Just when I had completely forgotten about him, my youngest little monster had to dig him out of the archives of Netflix. I am talking about Barney the purple motherfuckin’ dinosaur. She clicked on it. Before I could stop myself, I was singing along with the intro song.

Barney is a di-no-saur from our imagi-naaaation, and when he’s tall he’s what we call a dinosaur sen-saaation!

I knew every damned word of that song. I didn’t want to know it. I didn’t want to sing it. I had no control of my actions. It was as if some supernatural force was making me sing Barney songs. Maybe it was Satan.

Needless to say, she’s kinda hooked on Barney now. SHIT! She loves that purple motherfucking dinosaur. That’s all she has talked about for the past two days. Barney and BJ. Ok, so BJ? Really? They named a character on a children’s show BJ?!? I know, I know, this show came out way before anyone really knew what BJ even meant. I mean, I did. But I didn’t have a nickname for it.

I’m torn. There’s nothing wrong with the show. They teach kids to be kind, caring, accepting of differences, socially aware- these are all things that are good. They are a diverse group of kids who have fun singing and dancing and using their imagination. My little monster does those things all the time. Barney is really just an extension of who she is. BUT, he’s annoying. I guess the only real reason I can give against watching it is that the show annoys the hell out of me.

But annoying or not, I must give him props. If it wasn’t for Barney, I might not have made it through my second pregnancy. Barney babysat the oldest kid so I could take precious 24 minute naps. LOJO can attest to the power that purple creature had over my oldest monster.

So, I guess for now it’s OK for the youngest brat to watch Barney. I’ll sing along to the songs, and she will be in awe of her amazing mother who knows all the words. It’ll boost my ego to see her look at me in such amazement because I already KNOW him. Eventually, she’ll forget about him. Then I’ll be off the hook to sing to her before she goes to bed.


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