Mimosa Mama

A shallow woman bringing you deep thoughts…

Mmmmmmm, the mimosa. Champagne and orange juice. My book shall be a quest to help people know them, and on the way we'll learn a few gems of wisdom I've picked up here and there as I share my somewhat twisted view of the planet.

- Mimosa Mama

I often think about stuff like that.  Mostly I think about Eldon dying, & then having to date.  Well, not really having to date.  In fact, I don’t think I’d date at all.  Just too many self image issues to consider letting someone else on this planet see me naked.

But I imagine that if I did date, seeing a picture of his ex (preferably dead ex – way less complications that way) would be mandatory, because in this scenario I obsess over not being with a man who had a very beautiful wife.  I know it’s sick and wrong for it to be a competition, but there you have it.  I’m very competitive, and would forever be thinking about what was going through his mind.  Stuff like “Well, I had it good once.  I guess twice would be too much to ask of the universe.”  Or “Gee, Betty Jo’s tummy wasn’t flabby like this.  I sure miss Betty Jo.”

It’s possible that he wouldn’t be so shallow, but I wouldn’t take any chances.  Which is why, for the most part, the plan is to just grow old gracefully alone if Eldon kicks it.

A game I play a LOT in my twisty head is End of the World Match Game.  If I’m in a room full of people, my mind wanders from whatever is going on (you can be sure I’m zoning out about something after the first five minutes…) and starts to think about things like: if it were the end of the world, and these were all the people left, and we had to choose mates, and the men chose, who in this room would pair up?  It’s like a morbid game of dodgeball, and you’re afraid you’d be the last one picked for the team.

The funny thing is, I think the most attractive women are not conventionally attractive so much as they just have a quiet confidence about them.  Like they’re exuding the thought “You’d be lucky to be with me.  But you can’t be.  Which makes me unattainable, & infinitely more attractive.”

And there’s just nothing as unsexy as insecurity.  You can take a perfectly averagey-to-attractive woman, and if she obsesses about her looks, her exuding sounds more like “I’m attractive, right?  Please tell me I am.  How about if I make this duck face?  That selfie I posted yesterday took me 20 shots to get right.  Oh?  You like it?  You think I’m a pretty lady, right?”  Which makes her ugly.

I’m in the middle of those scenarios.  Daily selfie posters are the most annoying people on the planet.  Like if a day goes by and someone doesn’t validate them, they’re crushed.  That’s an ugly house of cards right there, and I wish the planet would STOP telling them every fucking day how beautiful they are.  And because you’re obligated to tell them they’re beautiful, you do it no matter what, so those opinions are not to be trusted.

I don’t have that quiet sexy thing either, so on the scale between those two, I fall slightly towards ugly selfie chick, but not so far that I would ever consider going completely over to the dark side.

ALL of this sounds like fishing.  Nobody on the planet is allowed to say stuff to me like “But you’re a beautiful lady!”  I’m just sharing my insecurities as a way to work through them and maybe make some other people feel less alone, so keep your selfie pie hole shut on the matter.

It’s not that I am not grateful for the looks God saw fit to grant me.  I estimate that I fall squarely in the middle – half the women on the planet think I’m an ungrateful whore and would give their husband’s right nut to look like me.  The other half would kill themselves if they had to look in the mirror and see what I see.  So I’m mostly happy.  No complaining here.  God gave me enough to trick a man into marrying me, but not so much that I would abuse my beauty powers.

But if I die and Eldon marries Betty Jo, with her tiny fucking waist and tight abs, I will haunt them both.



November 22, 2012

I have been chided recently for not writing.  No amount of reminding some of you that I am only a pretend writer seems to get through to the slower minded folks out there.

It’s just that my life is far more boring than most people give me credit for.

I did run for office this last political season, and won.  I am now one of the newest councilor the fine city ofLebanon has to offer.  Sad, huh?

My opponent was a really nice woman whom I got to know a little bit and liked very much.  Everyone I spoke with liked her very much.  If the best voting decision were based on who was the better person, or who was more likeable, I’d have voted for her myownself.

But it wasn’t.

It was more likely about which bitch could get things done.  I think you have to be a bit bitchy to be effective, and if I have a forte, that’s definitely it.

On top of that, I am well known in town.  Not to be mistaken for well loved.  A lot of people like me, even more don’t, but either way, they know my name, and I think that accounted for at least half of my votes.  The final count was my 964 to her 506.  Not a bad margin of victory.

And, to be clear, I would have been just as happy to lose.  I swear it.  I think the city council needs my calm, thoughtful leadership style, and my sense of humor, far more than I need it.   But seeing as how I’m a pro-growth, business friendly, capitalistic pig-woman, I will be happy to contribute what I can to seeLebanon succeed in that direction.

Plus it’s an important step to global domination, which, let’s face it, is in everyone’s best interest.

Being a politician can just plain suck.  It really doesn’t matter what you do.  Someone hates you.  And there is nobody that agrees with you 100% of the time.  The best you can hope for, in my estimation, is that you’ll agree with someone around 75% of the time.  That’s my own benchmark when casting my vote for anyone.

Nationally, my dude lost.

During the primaries, Mitt Romney was not my man.  But after he became the Republican dude on the ticket, I knew I would vote for him, mostly because I’m for a government being smaller and getting out of the way to allow capitalism let the economy grow, and he gets that, if nothing else.

I’m not big on the Mormon faith.  Too culty for me.  I am not personally crazy about any religion where God speaks to a dude and a faith where caffeine is the devil is born.  Then he speaks to another dude, and now we can’t drink coffee, but Coke is okay. And we have to wear special underwear and stuff.  NOBODY tells me what underwear I can wear, or that I have to wear any!  Those evil spirits can crawl right up my hoo hoo if they’d like.  I will expel them with my super power gut muscles.  I’ve been practicing for just that on my Wii Fit.

I’m sure I’ve got some of that wrong, and for the most part, I think Mormons are a peaceable people and quite lovely.  I just could never adapt to their strict man-rules.  Not in a million years.

My point is that while I’m not crazy about the faith, I had no qualms about one of their dudes running the country.  But I wasn’t a Romney ‘fan’ – until, that is, the first debate.  That’s when I felt myself actually uplifted and energized by his spot on enthusiasm, and his vision for the direction we need to take as a country.

Still, I am not in the class of Obama haters, as many people I know are.  I think he does what he thinks is right.  He is not the devil.  And he’s very charismatic, so on a personal level I think we could kick back with a few drinks, have some debate over liberalism vs conservatism, have a few laughs, find some common ground, and generally have a good time together.

And as such, consider this my personal invitation to our fine President, whom I disagree with, but respect as the leader of the greatest nation on God’s green earth.  Let’s do lunch!

May 20, 2012


I find myself thinking back to school this morning.  Trying to remember the name of a book we read in 7th grade, perhaps to revisit it.  All I can remember is giant bees, from another planet.  Kids stuck on that planet, waiting for rescue I think.  I don’t know.

The building we read this in is now torn town.  LebanonMiddle School, LMS.  I could still walk straight to the classroom.  Third floor.  Southwest corner, like 2nd door on the left.  I don’t recall the teacher, but have the sense that she either didn’t like me, There’s more, read the rest of this entry! »

February 4, 2012


Does this ever happen to you?

It popped into my head that it would be great to own a piece of property with a creek running through it.  A creek with a hole big enough to take a refreshing dip in on a hot day.

Then I thought it would be funny to name it Vaginal Creek, just so that you could say, on occasion, “I’m going to take a dip in the Vag.”

Then I fast forwarded to the day when There’s more, read the rest of this entry! »

January 8, 2012


Eldon and I went to the movies yesterday, something I rarely do.  I dread standing in line for anything, don’t like crowds, and want to smack your kids when they won’t shut up.  I’d much rather wait until the DVD comes out and I can sit on my couch with a mimosa in hand to enjoy the show.

But one day, not too long ago, I got an email for a Groupon.  You know about these?  They are There’s more, read the rest of this entry! »

January 4, 2012


What’s in a name?

I was talking to a girl at work yesterday who is pregnant.  Not just any pregnant, but one of those uber cute types of pregnant that makes you want to rub her belly.

Anyway, we got to talking about names, because it’s like against the law not to discuss the naming of the brat when you’re talking to pregnant chicks.  She’s having a girl, and her name shall be There’s more, read the rest of this entry! »

January 2, 2012


You know what should be against the law?  The stupid Lexus December to Remember commercials playing on January 1st.  Have we not suffered enough?

Here’s what I would like to happen:

She wraps his phone for his gift, and calls it, so that the Lexus jingle plays.  He gets all excited, knowing what that means, and runs for the door, all the while looking at the love of his life with disbelief There’s more, read the rest of this entry! »

December 18, 2011


Tried a new champagne yesterday.  A spendy one.  Veuve Clicquot (pronounced Vuv Klee Coh’ as far as I can tell).

Veuve Cliquot is a French champagne, and not being a great fan of the French (mostly because they are snobby and try to force the rest of the planet to call their champagnes ‘sparkling wine’), it’s not something I intend to drink a lot of.  Oh, ya, and it’s like a $70 bottle I caught on sale for $45, which is FAR outside of this working woman’s budget.  I only bought it because There’s more, read the rest of this entry! »

December 16, 2011

So, I’ve pulled my neck or upper back or something.  I don’t know what I did.  Fucked it up royal somehow.

It was hurting, then got better, so I got back on my Wii Fit a couple of days ago, and right in the middle of the triangle pose (yoga), I felt a knife behind my left shoulder blade, and I was stuck.  Triangle pose is not a pretty place to be stuck.

At any rate, I can’t move There’s more, read the rest of this entry! »

December 7, 2011


Today I am struck by what a horrible woman I make.  Not like bad person kind of horrible (you could successfully argue this point, but that’s not what I’m talkin’ bout here).  Like there’s this whole culture of shit out there that I’m suppose to care about but don’t kind of horrible.

My wallet is falling apart.  A wallet I bought on ebay.

I abhor shopping.  Braving the weather, finding a parking spot, fighting the crowds, waiting in lines, the whole bit.  So I find ebay a beautiful invention.  I can sit in my jammies, without showering or brushing my teeth, and browse an almost infinite selection of exactly what I’m looking for, all the while drinking my coffee and waiting for my glorious wave to relieve me of yesterday’s chow and energize me for the day.

Plus, there’s some sort of sick thrill I get There’s more, read the rest of this entry! »

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