LIVE: Ginger Goes to Jury Duty

I love iPhone! Look...I take picture of where I park, then I find car soooo easy later! I say..."oh no, where I park?" iPhone say, "you take picture, you park here, remember, lady?" Love you iPhone! Muahhhhh!



I'm here!!! Doing my civic duty. I have to wear this sticker on my shirt...it says "juror" so I'm like all official, y'all. I hate these stickers cuz everyone puts 'em on their chest...that's where they GO and I know this, but when you're a lady-type, that sticker sits right on top of yo boob and it's like a neon sign screaming, "Hey, y'all! Look at my right boob! L@@K!!! There's a sticker there! And underneath...a boob!" I thought about putting it somewhere else, like on my belly button, but really, that would just cause people to say, "hey, shouldn't that be right THERE...you know...on your boob?"



The slide show started y'all. It says "Welcome to jury duty." Awww...isn't that nice? After the first slide I am not feeling so welcome. There are lots of slides that, in a nutshell, say, "YOU PARK HERE! NOT THERE!!! YOU PARK THERE, YOU GET TICKET! YOU PAY NOWWWW, MISTER!!!"

Nobody is sitting next to each other! Why dey do dis? It's like on an airplane. You know eventually the empty seats around you will be filled but for those first 15 glorious minutes before the flight takes off you delude yourself into thinking you will have space. WRONG!!! No space for you! Flight is full suckaaaaa!!! I chose an aisle seat, FYI... What? A girl's got to go potty without trippin' over a buncha dumb legs. Gosh!

OMG! We've been waiting 30 minutes since we checked in...what is going to happen next? What are they going to tell us?? We need informations right now. It's soooo quiet in here with all these people, yet so noisy. Sooo many noises. Sniffing, coughing, throat clearing, nose blowing, whispering, scratching, papers rattling, sipping, oh my!!!

Oh! It's video time! Being a juror is fun, video says, it is your civic duty. You do good job, or else! You do it NOWWWW!!! Even judges have to be jurors, and retirees and moms and dads and smelly men and perfumed ladies and people with no teeth and and and...

After video the judge is coming to talk to us. The JUDGE! He's like a celebrity! What will he say? Maybe we will get a stern lecture with lots of finger pointing and eyebrow furling. Or maybe he will tell a joke to lighten the mood. I like jokes. I bet he tells one that starts off with a priest and a rabbi walking into a bar....oh wait, here he is. Oh my gosh, his name is Judge Lynch. Hahahahahaha!!! Hee hee hee!! Oh...ouch...that struck my funny bone hard. LULZ!!! It turns out that the prosecution's eye witness was a flaky mcflakerpants and the whole case has been dismissed. We are free to go. What a let down! I feel robbed! I want to be jury NOWWWW!!!

Well, I have my day back, what should I do now...hmmm....how's about I go to my favorite restaurant since I'm already downtown. LUCILLE'S for the win! I love love love this place! It's a Cajun restaurant in an old downtown house. They serve spicy iced tea and beignets and grits and oh my gosh I love it soooo much. Before your meal they bring you a biscuit. Biscuit, oh boy!!!! That is a biiiig biscuit, enough for four people! There's apple butter and strawberry rhubarb preserves on the table...homemade...in little crocks, sooo cute! Yum. By the way, what the heck is a preserve? That's what I wanna know.



Don't eat too much biscuit, don't do it. Real food is next, nobody wants to fill up on biscuit, that's just silly!

Also, iPhone is my dining companion. Isn't he cute? Just sitting here hanging out with me. The chair's too big for him so I just hold him in my wittle hand, pushing all the buttons, typing things, reading stuff. What a good little iPhone. I am NOT the cat lady! NO! I am the iPhone Chica! I could have used the iPhone, to, you know...call someone to go out to eat with me, but that's too much trouble. People are so unpredictable with their silly schedules, and work and kids and crap. iPhone always there! iPhone go to breakfast with me! Thank you iPhone!

Oh look...here's the real food. The only thing I ever order at Lucille's...Eggs Pontchatrain...oh how I love thee! Let me count the ways! I love your yummy pan fried trout and your fluffy scrambled eggs and your down south grits and your rich hollandaise sauce. Right now you are my besttttt friend and I will eat you all up!



So breakfast is done, jury duty out of the way for another year...now it's time to go home, where I'll sit next to a lazy dog on the couch, watch crappy tv shows on netflix and write things to people on my laptop. Eventually this excitement will be just too much for me and I will require a long nap because after all, I have an overnight shift to look forward to at the good old police department. Yay for having a job! YAYYY!!! And boooo for having a shitty schedule. BOOOO!!!

Stupid Light Bulbs...And Other Things I Wanna Punch!

I know the day has gone to hell in a handbasket when I find myself telling the pencil I just dropped to fuck off. Stupid pencil better learn his place! I came up with a theory recently...bear with me. Ok, I think the days where everything goes wrong are actually worse than a really truly bad day. What's a really truly bad day? Your dog dies. That's a really bad fucking day. Crash your car into a telephone pole? Yes...also a bad day. But here's the thing...on these truly awful days you have a real tangible reason to be pissed off or sad. But on pencil dropping days, you're stomping around the house mad at the world for no good reason. And people are all...hey, why are you in a bad mood? And really, the only appropriate response to that is I DON'T KNOW! Now fuck off! You and the pencil can both go to hell!

You laugh, but you know you've been there. I'm there today. Welcome to my hell. My kitchen light burnt out. Mere annoyance. I can deal with that...change the bulb and I'm on my way. But noooooo, it can't be that simple, now can it? Brand new light bulbs installed, I flip the switch and damn it all to hell if there ain't no light coming out of them!!! Hmm...check the breaker (note: I know this is not the problem, but decide to go look at the little fuse thingys anyway) all is good in the breaker box...so my next course of action is to stomp back inside the house and flip off the kitchen light as hard as I can with BOTH HANDS!!! Grrrrr!!!



I went to the doctor yesterday and the nice lady at the front desk asked for my insurance card. I handed it over, somewhat nervously, because I am on a new health insurance plan. All I could think was pleeeease accept my insurance, I looove my doctor. The last thing I need is one more FUCKING change I didn't sign up for. She entered the info and asked if my ex was still the primary subscriber and I had to of course explain to ONE MORE PERSON that doesn't really need to know, that, no...he's long gone and I'm the primary. So then she looks at me over the top of her glasses and says, "well then, whoooo will your emergency contact be now?" I wanted to yell at her "NO-FUCKING-BODY!!!!" How about THAT you snarky tip of the nose glasses wearing office lady? How about THAT! I decided against that after having a moment of clarity. I said, "Keep my ex as the emergency contact, HE can deal with my dead body!" Yeah, stick it to the mannnnnnnn!!!! Hahahaha! (Side note: I don't really know who the man is, thus I'm not sure who will have it "stuck to them.")

Sigh...I just went to make myself a bowl of cereal. I like cereal. It is delicious. Also a good snack late at night when cooking is out of the question. I opened the drawer to grab a spoon and to my surprise there are only big spoons left, the small spoon slot left bare yet again. Fucking big spoon, AGAIN?? Whyyyyy???? Why me? Why do I ALWAYS get stuck with the spoon so big I have to open wiiiiide for every bite? Oh oh, I get it...it's a fat joke. Haha, joke's on me! Chubby girl gets the big spoon. That's a good one. Maybe I'll start hiding a small spoon just for me. MAYBE. I. WILL. But then...I'd probably forget where I hid it...and then...I'd hide another small spoon and forget where I hid that one. This isn't going anywhere good. Maybe I'll just stop eating things that require spoons. That'll show those big spoons! They'll never get used again. Muwahahahahaha!!!

After a day like this, filled with stupid light bulbs, dumb ass spoons, and obnoxious pencils, I just wanna come home, climb into bed and chat with my friends who live inside my computer box. Avoiding the real world? Maybe. Cat lady-like behavior? Could be. Do I care??? Noooooo. (Ok, maybe a little.)

How I Got Somethin' For Free...And Other Amusing Things I Like To Blame On My Divorce....

Ugh...I trade my shame for your amusement...

Most days start off for me like this..."hey, didn't we have that one thing we had to do today...at that...um...place?"

This post on pause for the following reason: 13 year old daughter just walked up to me, laid her head on the dining table and said, "Mom...you're gonna be a cat lady. You need to get OUT there...I mean, not to the bars, mom, but NOT on facebook or online or whatever, ok?" Well fuckity fuck fuck fuck and excuuuuuse me! I'll just go drink a big fat glass of tequila and pass out so I can forget what a LOSER I am because I don't have a boyfriend.

Disclaimer: I will not be drinking any tequila because I don't want my momma to be disappointed in me. Also. Puking. I don't like that.

Update: I did drink the tequila. (Sorry Mop, and Pop, if that sorta thing matters to you.) Sometimes, and holy shit, it's not often, you just wanna be like, hey! Let's have a drink and forget all the stupid shit that happened today. And then, next thing you know, you're sad and pathetic and you have to be up in 3 hours and your best friend is NOWHERE to be found and you're all, why did I drink this nasty shit? Oh yeah, to forget. Forget about what? I dunno. Fuck, I already forgot. See? Mission accomplished!

Yay! All is forgotten...except the following dumb ass things...

1. I took Danika to a cheerleading class today that she wasn't enrolled in. Yeah, see, THAT is how I get free shit. See, what had happened was, I didn't talk to Ben and you know, ask him when her class ended, so I brought her today like a TOTAL dumb ass and the teacher asked to talk to me after class. And I was like, uh oh! What did I do...so I texted Ben, and I'm like, is this class over and he's all yeah and I'm all like shit, because she's in there now, cheering away! Hahaha! Joke is on me. But, whatever, cuz...free class!

2. I am watching Ben's girlfriend's dog while they go away for the week together. Does that make me a pushover? Maybe it does. MAYBE. IT. DOES. But, ya know what? One day, I'm gonna need a HUGE ass favor, ya know? And they'll be all...remember how nice and AWESOME Ginger has always been? She watched our ugly dog! What a pal! Yeah, THAT is how it is going to go down...and then they'll be all...we'll fuckin' do anything for her! She is the best ex-wife EVERRRRRRRR!!! You think this shit happens by accident...nope! I have a plan. Be nice and some good shit is gonna happen. Mmmmhhhmmmmm!!! Yes it will!!!

3. I forgot what I was doing here. What are these numbers for?

4. See, I was sitting at the dining table tonight typing to some friends and listening to music and hanging out while Rocky worked on a school project. I thought we were having fun. And then. BLAM. Out of nowhere, we were most certainly NOT having fun! Rocky laid her head on the dining table and said in the most serious kidding voice she could muster, "Mom, you are going to be the cat lady. You need to get out. Not to bars, Mom, and not on facebook or the internet either!" Well great...OMG, I just realized I already told this story at the top of the page! See kids? THIS is what tequila does to you. It steals your short term memory.

5. Ok, so I am trying to figure out what a boyfriend is good for. Because I'm thinking adding an extra person will be kiiind of a headache. Like for example, dinner. I'll have to start saying, "honey, what do you want for dinner?" When, really, I don't give a rat's ass what he wants for dinner. Also, he might want to watch something on tv I hate. FAIL! What if he has too many clothes and they won't fit in my closet? I mean, really...I think that's automatic grounds for a break up, don't you? What if he's messy and leaves his crap everywhere, like socks in the dining room. OMG, even worse! What if he's a neat freak! I am a slob at heart! I can't deal with a neat freak! All the messes I make must be able to be blamed on him, a neat freak would know he didn't leave out a bowl of guacamole and a half drank root beer overnight, but a slob? He'd be like...hmmm...maybe I did that and then I could be like yes you did! You ALWAYS leave guacamole out and I have to clean up after you! You owe me, you piggggggg!!! Yeah! That'll show him!!

6. Ok, things a boyfriend would be good for. I can do this, hold on. Ok, like when I am out with friends and every last mother fucker there is coupled up, if I had a boyfriend then I could be like, ha ha ha hee hee hee, we have our own private jokes and they are soooo funny! Ya know, I could stop being the third wheel. Also...food. If he had something delicious to eat I could be like, hey, boyfriend, lemme have a damn bite of that, that looks gooood, and he'd be like, yessssss, because he is my boyfriend and that is what they DO! Ooooh! He could drive! Yessss!!! OMG, I want a driver! Please! Ok, I will totally take a boyfriend if he will drive. Sold! Broke stuff. He could fix broke stuff! OMG, I am soooo happy about this boyfriend, hahahaha! You know why? Because I am freaking SICK of fixing broke stuff! Broke stuff = man's job, and as far as I know, I am not, nor never have been a man!!!

7. I changed my mind. All that stuff on #6. I can do that myself. None of that crap is worth the heartbreak when the lousy SOB leaves and breaks my fragile lil heart. (See that...that was bitterness there, yeah, I have a little. And it just came out. Which means...it must be time for bed. FML.)

I just realized I didn't talk about anything in this post I meant to. In fact, I don't even freaking remember what I had planned to write at all. Instead I ended up with this crap??? Really???

Oh! The tomato seed! Rocky hates tomatoes. We went to Applebee's. She ordered food. There was a tomato seed on her plate. She gingerly (see what I did there? haha) wiped it on her napkin. About 5 minutes later, the tomato seed was on her wrist. She wiped it on the table. A few minutes after that the tomato seed was on her arm. Hahahaha, at this point I was giggling. Because up until that moment, tomato seeds were not humorous in the least. But now? Freaking hilarious! Finally, she flinged (flung?) the seed across the restaurant. I didn't see where it went, but I bet it landed somewhere and some other tomato hater is gonna go home with that tomato seed plastered to their arm, LOL!!!!

It's Fine, I'll Wait...

An hour ago Rocky chastised me for eating airport mexican food right before a 3 hour flight. I DO know better, but the huevos rancheros were calling my name.

Sandwiched between Danika and a man reading a yellow book, I'm silently plotting my escape. We're at 10,000 feet just a few minutes into the flight and it's ok for everyone to turn on their iPods now, but standing up? NO! That is still forbidden. My tummy is rumbling. Ohhhh green chili you were soooo very delicious on the way in. Why are you trying to kill me now? My face is sweating...maybe if I hold onto the armrest a little tighter the cramps will go away. Why the f*ck is that g*d damned seat belt sign still on? I can't see the ground anymore, we are high enough! Come on!!!

Sitting next to a 6 year old in the tiny confines of an airplane requires a bit of patience. Danika's 8 X 11 tray table is covered with drawing paper, crayons, hot chocolate, a tortilla, a pen and a hashbrown. With predictable frequency something falls to the floor and the pile on her tray table quickly becomes the pile on my tray table. Up goes her tray and in a flash she's on the floor retrieving a wayward crayon.

I've been holding the hot chocolate steady on Danika's tray for 20 minutes and I know it's coming, I just don't know when. A notebook slips off the tray, I pick up the drink, Danika rushes to the floor, grabs the notebook, pops back up and elbows the hot chocolate and there it is folks. First spill of the day, all over the paper I'm currently writing on. The child is oblivious. Up and down she goes until I finally ask, "How many more times do you think you'll be doing that, sweetie?" Her response..."Depends on how much stuff I drop, Mom!" Oh well...duhhhhh!!!

Meanwhile, the sign is still on. "Keep your seat belts fastened, you are not free to move about the cabin." Look, I don't want to move about the cabin, I want to SIT about the bathroom. Please? My tummy has the rumblies. I'm dying here, y'all, if Danika bumps me ONE.MORE.TIME it's gonna be a green chili egg explosion. I swear!



The flight attendant whizzes by for the 8th time and I'm starting to get annoyed. Apparently she has super standing up powers on this flight. I call out to her, "Is it ok if I take her to the bathroom?" Using the child to get a little sympathy... (The man next to me with the yellow book is looking at my paper. Hi man with yellow book. Blink twice if you can see this. No? Ok, fine, I was just trying to be funny. You can ignore me if you want, you killjoy!) The flight attendant informs me with great inflection in her voice that she cannot GIVE me permission to use the lavatory while the ever present seat belt sign is on, but sometimes you have to DO what you have to DO. Oh realllly??? That sortaaaaa sounds like permission to me!

Woo hoo! Mama's goin potty! Yessssss!!!! Let's go! I'm gonna run RUN back there, stomach cramps be damned, I have a secret rendez vous with a barbie sized potty! And then...the light flickers off. And I'm free to move about the cabin...and so is everyone else. The aisle quickly fills and there I am. DEAD LAST. Noooooooooo!!!!! Randomly, Danika asks, "Mom, how many more seconds til we get to Flooooridaaaa???" And she expects an accurate answer. Before I can multiply up an answer for her she wails, moooommmm I'm hungry! I take a mental inventory and wonder how this is remotely possible. Six year old child plus ziploc baggie of cocoa puffs, plus egg McMuffin, plus hashbrown, plus orange juice, plus airplane bag of cookies, plus hot chocolate and nutty bar all in a span of less than 5 hours and THAT equals hungry?

And finally...it's my turn to "go." I don't think I really even need to anymore. I take my place on the tiny throne and all I hear is trickle-trickle-trickle! Really? I had to pee sooo bad! Full bladder! FULL! I ate MEXICAN food for craps sake! And that's it??? Trickle? I'm starting to think my stomach is a bit of a drama queen!

And back to my seat I go just in time for another round of "I dropped my crayon" and "Mommy I spilled" and other exciting in flight games.