Yes, this post will be where I whine:

I woke up this morning to 85 spam comments on my blog. I was still freaking out about the 85, when 3 hours later another 23 showed up. I could only dream that so many people would actually be READING my blog. I do have to admit that some of the spam comments had some nice quotes and deep thoughts in them.

Summer is dragging. It seems like we have done everything at least 3 times. Everything, that is that doesn’t cost a million dollars and isn’t involving the entire day to be spent out in the ridiculous heat and humidity without option for shade and cooling. The kids have been out of school for 2 months and normally would be returning to school in just a few weeks. Nope. Not this year. It’s the longest summer EVER. Government changed the start date from the 1st week of August to the 20th of August. I may not make it. Seriously.

Today, to try to beat my summer blues, I took the kids to the local sprayground. Being the type of person I am, we show up to the park early before the water is turned on to get a good spot. This place has a habit of filling up really quick and I wanted to get a picnic table. I did and it did. Then, when there were no tables left, I felt bad as I saw a mom put her stuff on the ground next to my table. With a big smile, I offered her half the table. She accepted and politely put her stuff on her side. Then, as she got her kids adjusted playing and stuff, her pushy friend came over and plopped her stuff down almost on top of mine. I move my drinks and her son throws some trash in my direction. All right… I put half of my items on the ground, trying to be polite and give her more space. Then she stands directly in front of me and laughs when she sees me trying to look around her to watch my kids in the water. I state calmly that I need to see my children and she moves.
Then she starts talking to another mom at another table about an impending move to San Diego, CA.

” I heard they are really all about the money there.”

” Yes, how much you make is discussed at about every party. Orange County is even worse.”

” That is so stuck up to talk about how much you make to other people.”

“Well, it is so expensive to live there, that everyone has to be curious how much everyone else makes.”

‘” Well, my husband makes $150,000, now, but if we move there they will have to double his salary.”

“My husband is making… blah, blah, blah…”

Then she comes to sit down on “my” side of the table and knocks A’s wet towel and stuff off the seat. I “apologize” and asked her if my daughter’s stuff was in the way.

“No, it’s fine where is is”

On the ground? Huh? I then gave the kids the 5 more minutes sign and called it a day.

What’s up with some people?

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