Mrs. Flinger: A work in progress

UPDATE TO Mrs. Flinger October 16, 2015

Because the Universe has a wicked sense of humor, after this delcaration, my blog threw up all over my last upgrade.

So I'm starting over using Craft. Turning 40 and kid entering Jr High next year, sometimes it's just time for a change. These archives will still exist in the way the last child goes off to college and their room is the same for 20 years, but it's just time to move forward.

It’s a long shot Sep 30, 2005

#Weght Loss and Body Image

So, we hung out with skinnybitch and prettygirl today. I really really like PrettyGirl. She is the peace of the group. She keeps it together. She is pretty AND nice AND has great taste in clothing. AND she genuinly cares about people. She is amazing. I really do like her.

Skinnybitch and I got alone well with PrettyGirl around. We were good, sincere, and nice. We even walked to Starbucks together where I stayed to feed LB. Be proud of me but I didn’t roll my eyes ONCE. Seriously. Be. Proud.

The thing I notcied about skinnybitch is that she invited LB and I to her Mom’s house next week when PrettyGirl was around. But then, before she left us, she said, “Oh, ok. Well, we’ll see ya at the end of October for the mommy group party.” Oy. Maybe she forgot. Maybe she really doesn’t remember those things. That’s ok. I do that (Hell, I left the CAMERA on the CAR. Duh.) So I’m really not upset about it. She WAS just a general annoying, but hell, I do that, too.

In fact… wait.. shit! I’m not upset about anything! I guess the visit went well. I *did* snap a pic, but it’s all stealth and stuff.


So, maybe we should talk about how my belly can rest on my laptop now. ‘Cause I got nothin’.


When you hate your friends Sep 29, 2005

#Rants and Raves

So, I’ve been invited to a mommy “thang” with skinnybitch. Did I ever tell you that I didn’t make it to her party? Yea. I didn’t. Boy, women can be so catty. She actually thought it’s because I don’t like her and would say things about her to other people. Man, is she WAY off. I only write them.

I heart Metro Man Sep 28, 2005


Y’all, thanks to Yankeebelle, I have a new fave blog. Introducing Metro Man.

He’s a dad. His baby is LB’s age. And he blogs. Oh, and did I mention he has an iPod, is witty and has me rolling on the floor with his posts? Seriously Best. Damn. Blog. Ever.

Now go check him out before I have my way with him.

Just in case you didn’t pick this out yourself Sep 25, 2005

Over on the family blog, I shared a little video. Just in case you don’t see it, thought I’d help you notice a few things…





Saturday night with a baby Sep 24, 2005

Whaty’a doin’? You wanna know what I am doing? I’m sitting here with my iBook watching the 1998 hit “You’ve Got Mail” with two cookies, decaf cofffee, my PJs, IMing and thanking God I’m not bored enough to create this. Because if you think *I* am lame on a Saturday night.. that is just sad.

Excuse me whilst I cry into my bowl of wheeties Sep 22, 2005

We lost a house. It was a lovely house. New, light/bright, big kitchen, fenced yard, good elementary school. It was a wonderful layout. It had huge windows. New everything. I luffed it. A lot. So we offered and they didn’t take.

We have some people coming to look at our old, shitty house tomorrow. I am baking cookies in the morning to woo them into loving this house because it smells so yummy and to not notice the pile o’ dog shit in the backyard. Scratch that. Make that piles o’ dog shit and dog barf in the back yard. Let’s be honest here, folks.

The thing about house shopping is that it’s too much like garage saling. You see something, you offer them some amount of cash, more than you think it’s worth but enough of a bargain to make you feel proud about yourself. Then you hold your breath to see what the person does. There is some sweating. There is some discussion. In the end, you walk away with someon’s old crap feeling like you got a good deal because hey! someone else is getting YOUR old crap.  But really it’s all gonna be back on the lawn for display in another five years with more stains and mildew and rust. If I seem a bit pessimistic, I am. Some bitch came 45 minutes before us and took my house away from us.

Forty-freakin’-five minutes people. That’s the difference between someone else’s crap and yours.

Freaking Freaking.. Breathe Breathe… Sep 21, 2005

Call me nuts, but I have bigger things to worry about now than work, leaving LB, or our house. Shit. See? I told you. Perspective sucks.

Blogroll Business Sep 21, 2005


Hey, sorry to post about bloggy business but I need to know somethin’.  I’m going to update my blogroll since about ten of you have moved/gone/added links. It’s a mess because I’ve accidentally deleted some that I read, I haven’t updated it in FOREVER, and know with everyone deciding to move, or start over, I don’t even know where you people are anymore! Also, if you have another *ahem* blog and it’s OK for me to add you to the blogroll, lemme know that, too. ‘Cause I probably always forget to go to it if it’s not there. I suck like that.

Look, no more moves, ok? Selling the house is enough for me. I promise to stay right here (and here). ‘K. ‘Cause I can’t take another move right now.

< / end public service announcement. Back to your regularly scheduled crap >

Starbucks man Sep 20, 2005

Dear Mr. Teva, no socks, cargo pants, long brown hair, button up shirt, glasses man,

You are hot. Oh. My. God. You are hot. I remember why I loved being a liberal. Damn my tax-paying, right wing family-tradition ways. Because mister, you are hot.

‘nuff said.

The lady with a wedding ring who will never ever ever tell you this in person, but who will tell 90 of her closest friends,
Waterbed Belly.

Perspective is the captain of the cheerleading team Sep 19, 2005

#Depth and Faith

Remember in Jr. High how there were those girls with the perfectly poofy hair, the layered feathers that were just so (hey, it was the eighties) and their jeans rolled just right and they always knew stuff? Like, they knew how to french kiss even if they never had, they knew how to apply mascara, they had their periods and knew how to use a tampon. They had self confidence, knew when to pop a zit and always knew what to say at parties. Remember them? Usually they were the captain of the cheer-leading squad. I hated them. But I sat with them at lunch and secretly wished I knew the same stuff they did. I was only cool by proxy. Never the one in the know.