Welcome to Snarkfest

Welcome to my snarky corner of the web. Join me as I discuss everything from wine to chocolate. There may be a few other topics mixed in there too. I talk a bunch about my amazing offspring, 19 and 17. I sometimes go on and on about my secret crush on the amazing Mike Rowe. I talk about things that irritate me or things that make me happy. Sometimes I just talk to hear myself talk. Feedback is always appreciated but please make sure it's respectable. No nudity or profanity. I'm the only one allowed to be profane. But any and all snark is welcome and appreciated!

Thursday, June 29, 2017

I Cried This Morning...

If you've been following my blog for the past few weeks, you'll remember that I'm nuts. Well, technically not 'nuts' per se, but coming off of an anti-depressant addiction I wasn't aware of has left me with emotions scattered all over the place. Like, seriously.

For example, last night 17 was looking at a video on the Book of the Faces, and when I asked her what it was, she told me it was a deaf woman hearing her husband's voice for the first time.

MUSH. <--------- That's what I turned to upon viewing the video.

This morning I had my tunes playing while I was getting ready for work, and John Denver came on, crooning his beautiful ballad "Country Roads". Shut up, I like John Denver, don't you judge me.

Anyway, I'm not sure if it's because WVU was crushed last night by Kentucky and knocked out of March Madness, or the fact that my baby will be a freshman there this fall, but my eyes welled up with tears and I cried. I told myself through my tears that I was being an idiot. I didn't argue with myself, I know better. I'll lose, every time.

But I cried this morning. I cried because it's a pretty song. I cried because my baby is leaving home in less than 6 months. I cried because my emotions are completely fucked up because of the anti-depressants. Am I depressed? No, I don't think I am. Am I an emotional train wreck? No doubt in my mind that yes, I am. I have tears in my eyes just writing this.

Last week, we went to the state capitol  for our high school's symphonic honor band performance. Both of my girls  are in that band and they overwhelm me with their talents. During their last song of the performance, Angels in the Architecture, I cried like a freaking lunatic. I cried at the beauty of the music, the difficulty of the 15 minute piece, the solos that my trumpet playing senior had. I cried knowing that this is her last year playing in this award winning band, a band that changed who she is and contributed to making her a confident young adult. The difference from who she was 4 years ago to who she's become is startling (in a good way) and I cried at how proud of her I am, proud of both my daughters.

The band director asked if anyone had taken any pictures during that performance. I didn't even try, because I was such a mess that you'd need a Dramamine to view them, they'd be so badly out of focus from my ridiculous crying ass.

When I think about her graduation in just over 2 months, I cry. I can't even begin to imagine what I'm going to be like on that day, but here's a tip: BUY STOCK IN KLEENEX. Trust me, you won't regret it. My baby will be playing alongside her big sister in the symphonic band's final performance of the year, and it will be the last time both my girls will play together in the same band. And yes, I'm crying again as I am writing that sentence. DAMN YOU EFFEXOR!

Make no mistake, I was a crying fool long before the anti-depressants and probably a crying fool while on them. But now that I'm off, Jesus, Mary and St. Joseph, I'm a thousand times more emotional than I've ever been.

I cried this morning. I will cry again soon, of that I have no doubt. It's gotta be normal, right? The emotional wreck that I've become is a side effect of leaving the meds behind, I know that. But I also know that I'm not alone. I received so many comments on my Mamalode piece letting me know that I am in good company, and for that company I am ever grateful. If you are trying to overcome an addiction, whether it's one you knew you had or you had no clue, YOU TOO are NOT ALONE. Come sit by me and we'll cry together. And we'll get through it. Together.

Saturday, June 24, 2017

Things I found on The Google...

The Google is weird. Or, more likely, people who search stuff using The Google are downright scary. Every so often I like to type in leading questions to see exactly what The Google will bring up. I start with something innocuous, like "How many times do..." and The Google will fill in with the most common questions that start that way. And let me tell you. People be SICK and shit. Seriously.

And what poor gassy soul felt the need to ask this question? Who knows, but at least he/she is not alone. Apparently it's a popular question on The Google.

This one confused me (shut up, I know it's not hard to do). What will you have? Hmmm how about this:

And for the love of Pete, why can't people learn these things on their own. This was almost a NICE search of The Google, until the hookers showed up:

I know that it's hard out here for a pimp, but when you're a new pimp, it must be extremely difficult to know proper hygiene etiquette, thus the need for this search:

Then when I finished doing all of the Googling for the day, I actually had to get directions to the school where 14 will be playing a volleyball game tonight. This is what I found:

Aside from the fact that the name of the school is spelled wrong, let's focus on the features of the ELEMENTARY school, shall we?? Are we talking a salad bar? A fixins bar? Or a full service gimme a shot of tequila hold the lime cuz I'm no sissy liquid bar???

Thursday, June 15, 2017

9 Things NOT to do at a Concert

Here are 9 rules to follow the next time you go to a rock concert (or country, or rap, whatever shit you listen to on the daily). Trust me on this. I’m almost 48 and have been to about a million concerts and have seen behavior that would make Pope Francis want to throw a punch.

    1.  Don’t get piss-eyed, falling-down drunk. I went to the Eagles Hell Freezes Over tour back in the nineties and there was a woman so drunk she threw up on the people in front of her and had to be carried out in the middle of the second song on the playlist. I don’t know about you but when I spend over $300 on concert tickets, I don’t want to get thrown up on, and I certainly don’t want to get so shit-faced drunk that I have to leave the show.

    2.    Don’t be an asshole to those around you. If you don’t like the opening act, don’t verbally abuse the singer (here’s a hint: you don’t have a mic, they can’t hear you complaining). Know who CAN hear your bitching? The folks sitting in front of you. Maybe they LIKE that opening act. Keep your negativity to yourself.

    3.     Don’t buy the pirate merchandise outside the theater. Don’t be a cheapskate. Pony up the $40 for an authorized and genuine concert t-shirt. My friend Karen and I went to see Def Leppard during the Hysteria tour in 1988 but I was too cheap to buy the official merchandise and instead bought a pirated t-shirt from some dude in the parking lot. It had an extra sleeve and it was from the Pyromania tour from 1983. Lesson learned. And if I ever grow an extra arm, that shirt will FINALLY be cool.

    4.    Don’t scream through the whole fucking show. Just don’t. You’re not 12, dude.  Screaming’s for 12 year old One Direction fans, not 40-something chicks who like their hearing. Trust me. Scream when your band comes on, then scream before the encore. But for crying out loud, not during the whole show. Some of us want to be able to actually HEAR what’s going on onstage.

    5.   DO. NOT. RUSH THE STAGE. Seriously, if you bought a ticket, that seat is YOURS. Do NOT try to squeeze your ass into my row. There is nothing that pisses me off more at a concert than some douchebag with a seat in row 19 coming up and trying to push me out of the way when I actually bought a front row seat. Just don’t do it. It’s cases like that where it should be legal to stab someone in the neck with a pencil. And I always bring pencils with me to concerts….just in case.

    6.    Don’t give me a contact high. I bought my ticket with my goddamn hard-earned money and the last thing I need is to get high off your smoke. It’s not cool. Do it in the parking lot before the show. But just know that if you do it anywhere near me, whether it’s pot, tobacco or crack, I will totally pour my beer on your joint, cigarette or pipe. Trust me on this. Nobody wants to smell like your smoke. And I really hate wasting my beer.

    7.    Don’t try to get on stage. It’s embarrassing. And if you get your ass thrown out, your friends will feel obligated to make sure you are okay, and that means they will probably leave the show early. If they do, then make no mistake, they are well within their rights to kick you in your stupid ass for being a dick. Do yourself and all your friends a favor and just stay put, okay?

    8.   Don’t fart. Just don’t. It makes everyone around you miserable. I don’t know which is worse, smelling a fart or smelling a cigarette while I’m trying to enjoy my jams.  You concert farters know who you are, don’t try to pretend it was the guy in front of you, own your smelly ass. Leave the seat, go into the aisle, do your thing and come back. Because damn.

     9.    I know this is probably a bit hypocritical, but don’t start a fight. Yes, I’ve been threatening in this post, I’ve come down pretty hard on the offenders, but trust me on this: I have been kicked out of a concert for laying hands on someone.  Ok it was a Dan Band concert but still, we were right at the stage and I did something dumb and had to eat the cost of the ticket. So keep your hands to yourself. 

I'm sure there are a ton of other offending actions one can do when at a concert, but these are the 9 that spring to mind, that piss me off and that I will call you out on for doing. You have been warned. 

Monday, June 12, 2017

Amazon Prints is REALLY worth the try! $1000 of Amazon Gift Cards to be Won!

Have you tried Amazon Prints yet? No? What are you waiting for?

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See? Amazon Prime isn't just for free, quick shipping or watching videos. SO may cool benefits are there for you. In addition to just printing pictures, Amazon Prints offers you options like photo canvases, photo calendar creation, photo books as well as wall decor and calendars!

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Tuesday, May 23, 2017


Like many of you, my heart is broken for those killed or injured at the Ariana Grande concert in Manchester last night. 22 innocent lives lost. More than 50 hurt. Unbelievably senseless.

The thing that infuriates me the most is that many of those affected were children. They could be my children, or yours.

I've always loved going to concerts and have passed that love of live music on to my children. I've taken them to see Paul McCartney twice, The Police, Duran Duran, Billy Joel, and Adele. They've seen their favorite bands, 5SOS and One Direction several times. Some of those times I've been with them for those concerts, and as they've gotten older, I've dropped them off and then gone back to pick them up.

The terror those parents must be feeling right now is palpable. I feel that terror that they are going through. The fear, the unknown. Where are their children? God, it's sickening. I watched a mother on the Today Show this morning who still hadn't found her child more than 12 hours after the explosion. I was terrified FOR her.

We were in DC years ago during the DC Sniper era and at one point we had driven by the Home Depot where one of the victims was killed. There were SWAT guys on rooftops as my husband ran the Marine Corps Marathon that year. I had my daughters with me and I'm not going to lie, I was somewhat intimidated, but at the same time, we can't live our lives in fear. We can't NOT go out and live because there's a chance some fucknut wearing an IED will take out me or my loved ones.

Will I think twice before I take my girls to a concert in a big, vulnerable venue like the Verizon Center in DC, which is just above the DC Metro? A 'soft target'? Probably. But it won't stop me altogether. I can't teach my girls to live in fear. I can teach them to be careful, to be cautious, to be aware and alert. Just like those parents probably taught their children in Manchester. Innocent children who only wanted to see their favorite singer in concert.

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Another Mother's Day post?

Gather round, Snarklings, I'm going to school you on what it is we moms TRULY want for Mothers Day. And every other day, for that matter. It's not rocket science, you don't need a degree, there's no deep, dark secret that you need Tom Hanks to help you unlock. It's fairly simple.

Now keep one thing in mind. I am NOT speaking for all mothers everywhere around the world, This is just MY opinion as a mom. We love our children with every fiber of our being. And we want to spend time with them, we want hugs and loving from them. But being their mother does not define who we are. We were women first, before we became mommies. We had lives, we had friends, we had interest that didn't include stuffed animals, bugs, drama and messy rooms. Sometimes we like reminders of that time, a time before we had a 24/7 responsibility to be the caretaker of another life. Perfume fades, flowers die but memories last a lifetime. Memories make us smile when we are down.

We want memories, both of time spent WITH our children AND without. Last year, I had the pleasure of spending Mothers Day weekend with some of my best girlfriends. We laid on the beach and watched dolphins swim just off the coast, we watched pelicans diving out of the sky and into the ocean and said "Nerrrrrmmmm" with each dive. We drank beer, we ate fattening foods, we laughed and most of all, we made memories. Do these memories take precedents over the memories I've made with my own babies? No, they do not. But what those memories DO for me is to remind me that I'm more than just a mom. I'm a girlfriend, a confident and a woman. I'm the band booster VP, and the PTO secretary, and the band banquet coordinator, and the office administrator, and the transportation to activities, and the money tree when my girls need spending money. I'm a lot of things to a lot of people.

But I'm also a source of support and strength for my girlfriends when they need me. I'm also a daughter to an ailing mother, I'm a person who sometimes needs the support and strength of others. Sometimes I need to be around people who DON'T depend on me 24/7 to remind me that I'm not alone in this motherhood gig. Being around others who share my struggles, my joys and my sorrows helps me to come back and appreciate the person I've become. The mother, the wife, the community member.

So what do I really want for Mothers Day? I want to be able to love my children, and have permission to love and spend time with my friends as well. I don't want guilt for being away. I don't want hurt feelings as a result of my choices. Being allowed to go and spend time with my friends, overall, makes me a better mom, a better person. It makes me appreciate what I have in my life. And when I come back home, and I wrap my arms around my babies, I know I'm a better person for having them in my life AND my girlfriends in my life. For having one without the other, I am not complete.

Monday, April 3, 2017

Kids: They cost. A LOT.....

I had no idea how much these kids would end up costing me when I had them. Sure it was expensive to deliver them by C-section in the hospital. Insurance picked up the tab on that one. Thanks, Aetna! But these kids I have are bleeding me dry, one activity at a time. Allow me to sound like an old fart for a moment. When I was a kid, I was involved in NOTHING. I wasn't musically inclined (my school didn't have a band anyway), I wasn't athletically inclined, I had very few hobbies that required equipment. I read. I rode my bike. I wasn't a clothes horse, and when I turned 13, I started working.

I started as a set-up girl in a restaurant, and when I turned 14, I moved up to waitress. I always worked for my spending money. After my summer as a waitress, the restaurant where I worked burned to the ground (I grew up in Wildwood, the restaurant was on the Boardwalk, we called it Jewish lightning when a Boardwalk block burned down). For the next 4 summers I worked in an arcade on the Boardwalk where I made a little money, and met lots of cute boys. OH the cute boys! But I digress. I had a J O B. I don't ever remember nickel and diming my Mom for stuff.

Fast forward to today. These kids today. Two daughters. Two talented, athletic, musically gifted daughters. Oh my aching wallet.

Let's start with 14. Sax player. Sax lessons. We bought her a sax, reeds, nice neck strap, more reeds. She plays volleyball. She's on a team that travels. That's not cheap. Gas, snacks, dinner after her tournaments, sometimes hotel rooms. She plays basketball. She goes to basketball camp every summer. Thank goodness her grandparents pay for that. She also has ginormous feet. Did I mention those feet don't ever seem to stop growing? You know what's totally not fair? I went shopping for basketball shoes for her last year, and the biggest size I could find in women's was an 11. She needed a women's 11.5. So we had to go up to a men's size. And the men's basketball shoes were, no lie, $60 more expensive than the women's shoes were.

Moving on to 16. Trumpet player, trumpet lessons, sheet music, and now she tells me she needs a Harmon Mute. I don't know what that is but I have no doubt it's going to cost me more than a gallon of milk (or gas). She runs track and plays basketball. Thankfully her feet may have slowed down in the growth department because she has been in the same basketball shoes for 2 seasons (thank you baby Jesus). But she DOES need track spikes.


Track spikes, mom.

Can we get them at the running store in town?

No, mom, not cross country spikes, track spikes are different. We can order them from Dick's.

But I have a gift certificate for the store in town.

I laugh at your gift certificates! BAH!!

Sunday we went shopping for prom gowns. HO-LEEEEE SHIT. Can I just tell you that I think my prom gown for my junior prom may have cost a total of $89? And that was INCLUDING alterations.  The first dress store we went to scared the pee out of me. I didn't see a single prom gown in that store for under $289. And I know that she'd have to have a few alterations done so we were definitely going over $300. Next store we found was a little more reasonably priced but not by much. We STILL ended up going over $300. We said 'yes' to the dress. And my wallet died a little more.

Next year will be 16's senior year and 14's freshman year in high school. And the band is going to Disney. So that'll be two in the band going to Disney. And my wallet will die a little more. Then 16 will be 18 and go away to college. And my savings will die a lot.

At this rate, hubby and I will be working until we turn 128. But our daughters will be well-rounded, responsible, beautiful adults. And hopefully, they will take care of us in our old age. Hopefully they'll wipe our drool, or our butts, and they'll thank us for making them the well-rounded, responsible, beautiful adults that they become. Money is overrated, right? Retirement is going to be boring and who wants to be bored, right?