The Spam – Dear Lord, the Spam…


Posted on : 04-Aug-2011 | By : Amber | In : Complaints and such, general complaining, Rambling rambles

If I’d known about the amount of spam I’d get in my comments, I might have reconsidered writing a blog in the first place. Ok, maybe not, but I would have complained a lot more about it.

Spammers – why do you choose me? I don’t have a large readership. I’m not sponsored by anyone. I can count on my fingers and toes the number of people not related to me who read this, and still have digits left. I’m pretty sure my mom gave up reading after the second post or so. Listen closely to the words that are coming out of my virtual mouth.

I do not want to buy generic drugs online. I am not interested in anime porn. I don’t ride a motorcycle, speak russian, or need a way to increase the size of some anatomy I don’t possess. Really. Your comments aren’t going to help you. No one who is interested will read them, most likely because I won’t approve them, and even if they get through, because I was half asleep (something my kids take advantage of way too often), I’ll figure it out eventually and take them off the blog.

Go away.

Go far, far away.

You make me unhappy, and that upsets my family’s delicate balance – you know, the one where they tiptoe around and don’t upset the crazy woman who lives in their midst.



Posted on : 20-Jun-2011 | By : Amber | In : Dogs, general complaining, married life, parenting brilliance, Rambling rambles, Teenagers, zombies

So, I’d like to say that the reason I haven’t updated in oh, ever, is because I’ve been doing Really Exciting and Wild Things ™, but in fact, I’ve just been lazy. Sue me – it’s not like I get PAID to write this stuff. Contact me about doing ads on this blog and we’ll talk.

Instead of doing R.E.&W.T. ™ , I’ve been doing stuff like the following:

Threw a ball for Archer the Wonder Dog to catch, but instead he hit it with his nose and it flew back and clobbered me in the head.

Watched my eldest go to her first prom, and nearly died because (a) she’s gorgeous and (b) I’m old.

I am in so much trouble, being this one\’s mother…


Still not feeling better about my parenting chances here…

Wrote not nearly enough about zombies and way too many tweets.

Became addicted to The Glee Project, because not only do I watch Glee with the sort of rabid intensity I usually save for scifi and chocolate, I am apparently a sucker for people younger and prettier than myself who have so much talent it hurts. If you’re wondering, I’m pulling for Damian McGinty.

Damian McGinty

Yeah, I wanna see this guy on GLEE.

Realized that all the shows I usually watch are now in hiatus, got very sad, and then realized that Eureka is about to come back for the summer, and got glad again.

Remembered that the next installment of Gail Garriger’s The Parasol Protectorate series is due out very, very soon, and became rather giddy.

Bought Argent Vite by my dear friend Kaye and devoured it in a day. It’s available via Lulu and iBooks, and you should all go out and read it. Right now. Go on. I’ll wait.

Planted growing things in my gardens, realized I hadn’t bought enough of them to do the job, and since I’d already cleared out the OLD things for the NEW things, my flowerbeds look like they have alopecia. I guess that’s ok, though, since that matches my lawn. I rock so hard.

Tried to convince my guy that I could use a pet dryer for things other than drying Archer the Wonder Dog after his bath. The thing is, I actually COULD, but he’s not buying it – the story or the dryer. Why did I ever think practicality was an attractive quality in a man?? It’s a good thing he’s hot, that’s all I’m sayin’.

So – yeah. How did this become my life again?

P.S. – after proofing this for me, Patrick thinks everyone will believe that all I do is watch television and that our life stinks. Ya’ll know better than that – I eat and bathe occasionally, too. Take that, Patrick.

P.P.S. – if you’re just leaving a comment here because it’ll get you more traffic and better ratings with Google, then you need to go away. I actually READ the comments before I approve them, and if you’re putting up things like “this article had great informations can you tell me more?” while coding 482 links to Russian porn into the comment, you’re not going to get approved. Don’t try to sell stuff on my blog, ya’ll. I don’t even do that.

Row, Row, Row your house…


Posted on : 01-Oct-2010 | By : Amber | In : general complaining, miscellaneous garbage

It’s raining. Not sprinkling, not spitting. It’s RAINING. Like – big honkin’ drops that laugh at your umbrella and crash through the fabric like Pelosi through our tax money. Normally I like living in this state, near the river which is near the ocean which means we get a lot of pretty cool weather interspersed with hurricanes to keep things interesting. This isn’t even a hurricane, but I’m beginning to forget what the sun looks like and since I’m homeschooling my kids and my youngest is taking Astronomy this year, being able to identify the sun is sort of a requirement, yanno?

We also live in a city that needs a $500 million drainage system upgrade, but since our city is either poor or stupid or both (see previous post about my house redo woes), that isn’t going to happen anytime soon, so across the street the neighbor’s backyard has become a small lake, complete with floating dead critters and raw sewage. They’re also lucky enough to have a basement, so I guess technically they can say they have an indoor swimming pool, if you don’t mind swimming in other folks’ poo.


Despite this, they did NOT cancel school today. Well, ok, they did, in that they said “if you haven’t sent your kid to school yet, don’t”, at around noon, which was a big ole’ kick in the behind to the parents that HAD sent their kids to school, trusting that the school knew what they were doing. I homeschool – I know they don’t know what they’re doing.

Buses aren’t amphibious vehicles, ya’ll.

On the other hand, since we do school at home, my girls didn’t get a day of busywork because most of their teachers couldn’t get into the parking lot. They had to actually learn something. The horror.

They can have a day off if we get a hurricane. Unless we get one of these:

My idea of a houseboat

’cause if I get one of these, they’re totally having to continue with their education.

Edit – my friend Cinco, who is one of the best grammarians around, pointed out a boo-boo in the above, which I’ve fixed, ’cause she’s always right about stuff like that, and about stuff in general. I love her with big, fluffy pink hearts.



Posted on : 13-Sep-2010 | By : Amber | In : general complaining

Ok…so, we live in a historic district. We don’t live in a historic HOUSE, mind you, but we live in the historic DISTRICT. While this comes with some snob appeal, and marginally better property values, and no yards, and houses so close you can hear your neighbors pass gas, it also comes with a set of “regulations”, ’cause the city doesn’t want us messing up the historic value of our non-historic house.

We needed to replace some windows in the back sun room. You see, the folks who added that sun room figured that they didn’t need actual windows if they put storm windows in the bare holes and called it a day. We, however, got tired of air conditioning the entire neighborhood, because basically we don’t like a lot of our neighbors that much, and handy-dandy-carpenter man goes to put real windows in where the storm windows used to be.

Now – you need to understand something. To do ANYTHING in a historic district other than repair where the IT would be visible from a public place, you have to submit plans to the committee for architectural something or other, go before the city council, beg for the right to make your home livable, hopefully get approved, then go get a building permit. THEN, and only then, can you do what you wanted to do, or something maybe close to it.

So, here’s where it gets fun, y’all. The windows in question are in the BACK of the house, on the FIRST floor, behind a PRIVACY FENCE, facing an ALLEY.

Before P. gets the first window replaced, the city is here with a stop order. Yep. Stop order. Siding’s already been ripped off, window’s out, the whole nine yards and we gotta stop immediately and do the whole city – committee – council – permit thing.

Now, I thought that would be considered a REPAIR, since, ya know, the whole outside air conditioning thing. It was broken, as far as I was concerned, since I don’t consider my heating and air conditioning floating into the atmosphere to be the natural order of things…but apparently the city thinks otherwise. I think they should come pay my utility bill, and then it wouldn’t be so “oooh, you can’t do this, ’cause the alley way is a public street, and someone might SEEEE, and then the historic value of your non-historic house would be destroyed because of your eco-friendly windows, and we all know that historic value is more important than energy conservation”.

Freaks. I hope they like looking at the big old naked back of my house, ’cause, you know, we can’t put the siding back ’till it’s been aproooved…..

P.S. I totally first typed pubic street and not public street. Make of that what you will.

You just can’t fix stupid


Posted on : 10-Sep-2010 | By : Amber | In : general complaining, homeschooling, Teenagers

I’m generally a fairly easy-going person. Shut up, I am. A bit. Anyway, as I was going to pick up my neighbor’s little girl from school yesterday, I got a big ole’ dose of stupid shoved right down my throat, and I’m gonna share.

The bus from the high school had dropped it’s load of delinquents students off at the end of the block. They’re walking down the street, in the middle of the street, and a minivan is behind them. Do they move to the side, like, oh, I don’t know, people with a few brain cells to rub together? Nope; I watch them continue down the street, with the minivan behind them, until the driver realized that yes, they were obviously brain donors, and pulled out around them.

What the…

What a group of no manners, no account, no freakin’ BRAIN mouth-breathers! I mean – come on, dude. Move out of the bleedin’ street, because if you knew how much damage that minvan would suffer if the driver were someone like ME and ran your sorry behind down – i.e. NONE AT ALL – you might think about firing a synapse or two and GETTING OUT OF THE WAY!!

Before you tell me that they’re not stupid, they’re just ill-mannered, let me remind you that by the time you reach high school, if you haven’t figured out that walking down the middle of a busy street is BAD, you’re just plain dumb. The kind of dumb that wears two pairs of boxers and its jeans around its thighs and thinks that standing on a hill during a lightning storm while wearing plate armor would be a good idea.

Is there a reason for this??

Pull up your pants and get out of the street. You’re lowering the IQ of the rest of the neighborhood.

Yet another reason why I homeschool. I don’t want this sort of attitude rubbing off on my kids. The idiot’s attitude, not my attitude, because my attitude rocks.


I need to be rich


Posted on : 05-Sep-2010 | By : Amber | In : general complaining, homeschooling, zombies

Seriously.  I need to be rich.  I’m buying my girls’ books for this school year.  Yes, I’m buying them in September, yes, it’s late, quit yelling at me.  I’ve got one in third grade and one in tenth grade, and it’s like buying college textbooks.  ONE of B’s books costs more than the most expensive college text I ever purchased, and I was a snob and bought a lot of new books, and no, I’m not THAT old.

I already pay taxes for the public school system I don’t use, and before you ask, no, I don’t get any of it back.  There’s no tax credit for having the sense to avoid the local school system here.  You’d think I could get some sort of discount somewhere, you know?  “Hello, I’m homeschooling and poor, can I have a discount?”

Note:  Apple gives homeschoolers their educator’s discount.  That’s why I love them and why I’m writing this on a MacBook.  No, I don’t get paid to say that, but if they wanted to throw a new iPad my way, I’d take it.

Ok, I’m not actually poor, but since I’m homeschooling I don’t work outside of freelancing writing, and that’s not exactly putting me in contention with JK Rowling for earnings.  I should totally write a survival guide for zombies – not for the zombies but for surviving the zombies.  The zombies probably can’t read anymore, because their brains are turning to mush.