Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Perverted Phone Call

The phone rings today at about 11am. Caller ID reads'Privacy Manager' (a service where I can screen my calls, basically). My girlfriend answers the phone, thinking that it's one of her relatives in the hospital again. (Don't ask)
On the other end of the line, we hear this guy. He is talking to someone (not us!) on another phone, and he is being dirty. Oh yes, dirty. He's obviously, uh...touching a certain part of his anatomy and describing a scene that he is watching to someone on the phone. Well, three someones including us.
Always a girl who appreciates a healthy (ahem) personal life, I listen on and off with my girlfriend for about ten minutes, until he's getting close to being...all done. Then I start pushing buttons on the phone and my girlfriend yells, "Hey pervert! Hello? Hey you!"
We hear him say, "Hang on, there's something wrong with my other phone."
And he answers us!
"Uhhh....hello? Is someone there?"
Yeah, I'd say so.
We tell him yes, there is someone there. He asks who.
My girlfriend says, "You should know who, you called me!"
Further conversation ensues about how long we've been listening. He tells me to hold on, and can hear him tell the person on his other phone that he has to go.
We want to know if he's someone that we know who called us accidentally, so we ask him his name. His name is Dan and he's thirty. He says he lives in Sacramento. His story was he was watching his roommate do the deed in the backyard with somebody, and Dan was describing the situation to his female friend on the phone while getting frisky. Apparently he tried to call his friend on his cell first, but then hung up and used the regular phone. Well, tried to hang up anyway!
My girlfriend, being the mischievious sort, tells him, "You just called two lesbians and whacked it on the phone! Good thing we weren't your mother, huh?"
I take the phone from her before she can lecture him about the evils of cell phones, and he says, "Aw man, I can't believe I did this! How did-? What the-? Hey...you girls are lesbians?"
Just like a man. I tell him that yes, we are lesbians, but that is not the issue right now.
Then he asks if we could help him finish!
EW!!
He was nice and polite about it, but still. I told him I'd have to know him a little better before that happened. (Yeah, right.)
Anyway, he needed to finish and we needed to get our daughter from preschool, so I told him to give me his email address and that I'd send him a hot picture of us so he could tell all of his friend what happened. (What a sweetie I am!)
End phone call. What a way to start a day, huh?

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Sniffle Snuffle

I awoke this morning with a nose that cannot decide whether it wants to be stuffy or runny, and a sore throat.
I had to spend all day on a fieldtrip with my oldest daughter at a fish hatchery. Oh boy, bet you can guess how fun that was! The trip consisted of:

Riding a school bus with twenty children singing "Do Your Ears Hang Low?"
Walking to a railing over the river to watch a shitload of salmon migrate up a concrete ladder thing.
Walking to a building where a man whapped salmon on the head, then sent them to another man who sliced them open for egg retrieval. (Question running through my head during this display: What is the fish-whapper-guy's job title? What does he tell people he does for a living?)
Watching same twenty children touch a dead fish and then go eat their lunches. (I made my daughter wash her hands-ew!)
Riding home on the same bus with the same children who were now tired, dirty and smelly. My daughter kept telling me, "Mommy, I'm bored!" Bored? I asked her what she had expected riding a school bus for thirty minutes. A circus train?

I tried to take a nap when I got home. I didn't even want to play my game, I felt sooooo yucky. But as soon as I would drift off to sleep (on the couch) someone would inevitably ask, "Mommy, what's this? Mommy, how do I do that? Mommy, are you asleep?"

Fer cryin' out loud!

Sunday, October 09, 2005

My Addiction

Hello, my name is BrokeMom. And I am addicted the The Sims.
Yes.
I love the game. I can create and destroy and decorate to my little heart's content.

I bought a new computer the other day, a nice fast one. Did I mention that it was fast? And better? I agonized over the decision to buy one for a looong time. We were going to buy one with our tax refund in February. But we needed the money for other things. Then we were going to buy one when some settlement money came through. But we needed it for other things. So I finally figured, "Heck, all that money in my savings account is just sitting there. Might as well use it!"

And I did.

It all started with The Sims. And then I got an expansion pack or four. And then I received The Sims 2 as a gift. But my dinosaur, er, computer wouldn't support it. With my new computer, I can now play The Sims 2. Oh wait, I can pretty much play whatever in the hell I want!
Whoo-hoo!
I have to go now. It beckons me...

Saturday, October 01, 2005

Hey, Do You KNow That One Guy?

There was this nice-looking male customer at my register. (By nice-looking I mean he had all of his teeth and wasn't covered in dirt.) It was late and there was no line. He asked me how I was doing, and I told him that I was doing well, because tommorow was my day off. Hey, he asked!! Anyhow, he then replied, "Oh, tomorrow is Sunday. Do you know the Lord?"
And it took me a couple seconds to figure out what in the hell he was talking about!
I get all cheery(fake) and reply, "Of course!"
He says, "Do you go to church?"
So I'm thinking he's got to be a pastor or something. Youth group leader?
I tell him that I don't go to church, that I'm "spiritual on the inside."
Now, all of this is a big fat fucking lie, because I'm not religious at all. I don't know "the Lord" and I most certainly will never go to church again.
But that's not the issue here.
The issue is, why could I not bring myself to tell this guy that? I didn't know him, I will most likely never see him again.
I think I like the idea that I can be somebody that I'm not to people who don't know me.