A Side of Rice

Hopefully Humorous (and sometimes R-rated) Musings About Life


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How Are You – Really?

Because of my long work commute — and when my teenagers haven’t eaten up all our fucking data 6 days before the end of the billing cycle Verizon— I listen to podcasts. I subscribe to How I Built This, Criminal, Terrible Thanks for Asking, and The Mortified Podcast among others.

The Terrible, Thanks for Asking podcast issued a writing challenge, and I texted my interest as requested. The first writing request came through on November 15 – so here goes…

“How Are You — Really?” – November 15, 2018

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Quick answer? Of course I’m totally up to my ass in alligators, so this post is two days late.  But here are a couple of the things I was thinking about on November 15, 2018…

  • I feel grateful to be teleworking. Normally on a Thursday, I would be making the trek to work, but because of 1-3″ of snow predicted, I am working from home. Schools are closed, so that means 2 teenage sons, 2 dogs and 1 work-from-home husband are also in the house with me. And that 1-3 annoying inches turned out to be 8.1″.IMG_2182.jpgI am also grateful I figured out the thermostat had reset to 60 degrees and that’s why the house was freezing and not because the stupid HVAC system had gone out again.
  • I really feel annoyed because Mother Nature is a spiteful bitch — yet another high school game has to be rescheduled today. As the manager of social media (Facebook and Twitter accounts) for my son’s high school Boosters program, I have had to update schedules because of rain outs/thunderstorms throughout the entire Fall season. Today, it is the State Championship for our girls soccer team – the first time they have ever been to the State Championship. However, due to the weather, it is now rescheduled to Friday. So I am spending time updating event posts, images created, and responding to parent inquiries about decisions made … because, yes, the governing body of Maryland State high school sports consults me specifically about what is convenient — or not — for all of you before it reschedules anything.Longroll
  • I’m a bit pensive as I ruminate about my job description. My boss shared a proposed update with me and asked for feedback, as we work together to build a strong team with talents focused in the correct areas. I think it is a good start, but I plan to discuss some nuances that would make it a better use of my strengths. Because, I need to own my path and stand for what I’m passionate about and what resonates with me. I am feeling confident about my ability to have that conversation.

So that’s where my head is at today, Thursday, November 15, 2018: grateful, annoyed, pensive and confident. At least I’m not terrible. Thanks for asking.

#TerribleWritingClub


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Where the @#*% Have I Been?

It’s been a year since I published a blog post. I have no good reason for my absence from the space.  Well, at least nothing good like…

  • I hit the lotto and screw writing a blog; I’m too busy to write because I’m spending all the cash on traveling the world and sampling tequilas in as many countries as possible
  • I’m too drunk to write because I won the lotto, and I’m on my own personal world tequila tasting tour
  • I’m in rehab for being too drunk all the time, because after I won the lotto, I went on my own personal world tequila tasting tour
  • I’m stuck on step 6, after going to rehab for being too drunk all the time, because after I won the lotto, I went on my own personal world tequila tasting tour

Actually, the truth is

  • I never hit the lotto. Because I never remember to buy a ticket.
  • I’m sober way more than I’m drunk.
  • The only rehab I’ve done in the past year is for my Achilles, which was shredded by a sizable and nasty bone spur, so it required surgical repair/rebuilding on May 31, 2017.
  • Step 6 of rehab requires being ready to have all the defects of our character removed. I love my defects, so fuck it. They also make for great material for this blog.

But more of the truth is, this past year, I

  • have been overwhelmingly busy with work, because I have to earn money,  since I keep forgetting to buy a lottery ticket.
  • have not been drunk enough times to have great stories to share.
  • have been rather compliant with my rehab, so – yawn – who cares about someone who is doing what they are told? History
  • have had moments of extreme defectual brilliance. But what I haven’t had is nearly enough time between work, mom duties, volunteer work, kids sports — you all know the drill — to focus on my blog.

So, let’s face it:

  • Work will not slow down. In fact, I’ve been given even more to take on. Bring it.
  • Getting drunk = extra carbs. I’ve dropped 10 pounds since January, so I’m working hard to keep carbs at bay. But I’m still up for a girls night out anytime, and I have my designated driver at the ready. Just give me enough notice so I can plan accordingly and save all my carbs for drinking that day.
  • My Achilles is better, though not completely healed. I have all sorts of free time now that I can walk without a lurching limp.
  • My defects are there and aren’t going anywhere. Nor do I want them to.  They are a shining beacon of light that reminds me “don’t take all this shit so seriously, sister. Enjoy the ride. And share with others how what is out-of-control can be beautiful, scary, exhilarating, amazing, humbling, frustrating…to name a few.” And it’s normal. Defects are normal.

A recent episode (more heart than humor) in my life prompted me to write again. So, I’m back, bitches. And I’m glad to be back, defects and all.

Tequila scale


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Missing Inaction

Yes, I know dear readers (both of you!). It has been awhile since I last posted. In my defense, the universe recently conspired to make my life crazier than normal, with the trifecta of:

  • spilling my FULL cup of coffee all over my brand new laptop, resulting in me having to send it away to be fixed by the Geek Squad. Luckily, I had purchased the I’m such a dumbass, so I need the extra ‘in-case-I-do-anything-stupid’ insurance, and the complete repair was free. During the time I was laptopless, I had to share the other laptop with my boys, which meant eyerolls, huffs, sighs, and mutterings when I needed to use the laptop. Because this meant my boys’ viewing time of Vines showing farting, falling, bones breaking, sports silliness, bad lip synching, Elaine Benis-style dancing, and other nonsense aimed at those with a mental maturity no greater than Beavis and Butthead was limited by my need to look up what bat shit crazy advice “every woman” Gwenyth Paltrow was sharing with us common folk.
  • at work, we had a big — I mean BIG — launch to contend with in April. So many moving parts and pieces, endless meetings, longer-than-usual workdays, work on weekends, communication plans, backup plans, backup backup plans, war rooms, conference calls – you name it, we were doing it. And it turned out to be a success. Yay team.
  • the Spring sports season has started for my kids. We have one that plays baseball (both travel and rec teams) and one that plays lacrosse. That means for the past month and a half, there have been practices Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, possibly Friday if any of those previously mentioned days get rained out, and Saturdays. Recently, we’ve moved into actual games, so that means there are lacrosse practices Monday and Wednesday, with games on Saturday (occasionally double headers). There are also rec baseball games during the week (Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday this week alone for rec), and games on Saturday (sometimes double headers), and travel baseball game double headers on Sunday. Does your head hurt as much as mine yet?

So it’s not any mystery that:

  • our dinner options tend to come with the “would you like fries with that?” inquiry.
  • the recurring complaint is “I don’t have any clean socks and underwear — does anyone ever do the laundry around here?”
  • which leads to the recurring rebuttal “if you don’t like the frequency with which we do the laundry around here, tough shit feel free to grab a basket of your smelly, teen-funkified clothing and start the washer yourself.”
  • at least once a week, someone forgets to bring at least one of the following to a game: a folding chair, snacks, cleats, Fireball, water, Gatorade, a blanket, sunblock, chapstick, batting gloves, Patrón, the camera, sunglasses, or a helmet.

So, thanks for your patience readers. And know that if I go missing, it certainly isn’t from inaction.


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Look, Let’s Get Real

Last week, we had no baseball practices, tournaments, warm ups or the like.  Little league baseball season ended for my 11 year old in the semi-final game of the 11U State Tournament, and for my 10 year old in the quarter-final game of the 9U State Tournament the previous week.

But that didn’t mean we had no sports going on last week. Because it was the start of football conditioning camp.

You might think in frustration I would have plucked out all the grey hairs on my head about having no down time between sports. But, 1) it would take me longer than a week to pull out all the grey hairs even after a Root Touch-Up, and 2) I didn’t have to be at football practice.   That’s because this year 1)  I’m employed, and 2) my husband is going to be a coach.

And that, dear readers, means from now until when school starts, I have Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday night to myself from 6:00pm – 8:30pm (ish) as football conditioning camp and practices get underway.  Sweet Jesus, what’s a gal to do with all the down time?

My husband and boys have some definite ideas about what they think I should be doing with all my “free” time.

Husband & boys’ fantasy:  Think I should make a gourmet meal each night, and have it on the way to the table the second they get in the door.

Freakin’ reality: Look, ‘peel back foil to expose tater tots’ is as fancy as it gets around here for dinner.  And I hope by ‘table’ you mean the tray table in front of the ginormous TV in the family room so you can ignore me and watch ESPN ad-nauseum.

Husband & boys’ fantasy:   Think I should fold laundry.

Freakin’ reality:  Look, we’re lucky that the loads of laundry I wash over and over because I forget about them, actually smell less moldy after the third wash. And if I do remember to move it from washer to dryer, it’s a Festivus miracle. So fold your own damn underwear.

Husband & boys’ fantasy: Think I should take the dog for a walk.

Freakin’ reality: Look, the damn dog can walk out onto the deck, down the steps and into the yard without my help. And if you want your tater tots on the tray table as your sweaty asses walk through the door, there will be no dog walking.

Husband & boys’ fantasy: Think I should find personal fulfillment and motherhood nirvana by cleaning the bathroom

Freakin’ reality: Look, try to aim better you bunch of firing range rejects.  And for the love of Charmin, put the effin’ seat down when you are done.

Look, here’s the reality of what I do while they are sweatin’ it out on the gridiron:

  • Shout “hells yeah, you sorry bitches”, confirming — to no one other than our dog — my agreement with Judge Judy’s rulings
  • Cuss and swear at Level 65 on Candy Crush
  • Clip coupons for Root Touch Up
  • Think of indictments to add to the list for the Giudices
  • Rewatch seasons 1 – 10 of Project Runaway.  Rerank best Michael Kors disses.
  • Think about working on the next great American novel “Confessions of a Concession Stand Captive” (based on a semi-true story of a mom and the soul-sucking volunteerism of little league)
  • Ignore the cease and desist orders from a variety of brands that don’t appreciate the non-marketing approach I take to name-checking their products in my blog posts
  • Ignore the messages from “Super Duper Luber”, as I am not interested in promoting their product that (supposedly) allows any sexy encounter to “go down a little slower and/or easier” (perhaps Whitesnake ought to look into Super Duper Luber’s marketing copy and file a complaint)
  • Think very hard about things I can blog about, and fear I will end up with brain sprain
  • Ice my head due to intense migraine. Or perhaps it’s brain strain.  Will Super Duper Luber help with that?


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A Year in the Life of a Blog

© 2009 Rosscott, Inc

One year ago today, I began my blog*. In that time, I have written 23,187 words in 55 blog posts (not counting this one). My longest post had 1,264 words describing a “day off” around the holidays, and my most succinct post had only 14 words in a surprising show of krispness and klarity.

My blog started off Times New Roman, but switched over to the less uptight and more she-isn’t-a-very-good-housekeeper-either stylings of verdana.

I’ve had 28 likes for my posts, and 124 comments on various posts on my blog. I’ve responded to comments with 51 comments of my own. If you count spam, the comments soar to a mind-numbing 425,486. Good thing I don’t pad my bra or my comment numbers, huh?

The subjects of my blog posts have varied, but usually fall into some fairly common areas:

So here’s to looking forward to another year of snarky commentary, general life observations and misadventures of the Rice family. Cheers!

* – my husband is deeply indebted to WordPress for giving me this outlet. Via this blog, fewer of my seemingly endless streams of commentary about e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g, my natterings on about celebrities who do nothing more than use up valuable oxygen, and my incoherent babblings about the misadventures of our kids have to fall upon his ears.