Share the joy honey,you know you want to.....

I'm sure you guys are all saying “Damn, that Smocha is so spoiled, off in England on her big adventure. She makes me sick."



I know, I know...it's just not fair for me to keep all the glorious details to myself. So because I love you guys I'm going to spill it, right now, right here. The TRUTH, about being a spoiled expat housewife.



(Hang on...let me go smoke first)



Ok, here it is ...a day in the life.

Cavuto woke me up at the crack of dawn. " mow mow" paw in face. He immediately goes to my night stand and begins knocking things off, starting with my water. He has discovered that the sound of liquid hitting the floor works like a charm to get me up instantly.

Grab bra and a sweater and groggily trudge down stairs, take pills, start coffee and smoke a cigarette under the stove hood. Give Cavuto some whipped cream while finishing the coffee.

Feel groggy and disoriented because I took a Tylenol P.M. the night before, due to that NO vodka situation.(went to bed early)

When I woke up ,I was dreaming that we had this truck load of African refugee kids. They were all about 10 year old black boys, except their "spokes woman" she was a little white girl.She was trying to tell me that she was 5 . I KNEW she had to be more like 3.I asked her how come she was white and she said she was "south African"

(I have NO idea) ??? Thanks Cavuto!!!

Bring my coffee upstairs and check my email. Feel like I am in a hurry and am supposed to be going somewhere today. This goes on for a while. I finally realize I don't have to go anywhere except the grocery store. I'll be walking there so I have all day to do it.


To self" chill out you damn crack head."

Look around at house and feel overwhelmed .It is a sty. Hubby was just home for 3 and a half days. I’m behind on everything. Bleah!

Think about my kids and have trouble remembering their middle names. (I was NEVER one of those mothers who screams out the kids full name when said kid is in trouble) I could barely say the right FIRST name.

When they were in trouble, I'd be yelling "WES! I mean IAN! I mean LOGAN , whoever you are! YOU know who I mean!"

Check to see if anyone has updated their blogs while I finish my coffee. Go back down to stove hood for a cigarette. See myself in mirror, shudder in horror. Pimple head, with no makeup and monster hair. (Went to bed with wet, not even combed hair)
Realize the good part is no need to shower this morning.

Go back upstairs and retrieve pair of baggy jeans (now worn for maybe the 3rd time) throw those on, with the hot pink monkey shirt I slept in. (it's cleaning day)

Notice mountain of laundry and wince. Pile that up and check hamper, wince again when i see that it is full as well. See o'reiily walking in backwards circles and know this means he is about to vomit. Which he does ,TWICE, in different locals.

Stuff laundry into dirty jeans legs so I can carry it all downstairs. (Washer is in kitchen)
Sort laundry and start first load. Notice water is pooled on floor under fridge, again!
Turn TV on for background noise. (I can't even listen to my cleaning music unless I wear a cd walkman and headphones)

Inspect freezer and realize water has frozen under bottom drawer due to sloppy ice tray filling. Remove drawer and decide to melt ice. Afraid to turn off freezer because I'd never figure out how to turn it back on. Then I see switch on wall that says FREEZER/FRIDGE .Turn it off.
Wind up cleaning out entire fridge and freezer, including removing, deicing and washing all drawers and shelves and sorting and organizing food.

Glance at oven and remember that peach cobbler has been burned in there since Thanksgiving. Spot oven cleaner I had finally bought a few days ago. Spray it in there despite SAFETY WARNING : Turn off electricity to oven. Put out pilot light before using.

"Bite my ass, safety freaks! "

Scrub lime scale off of sink and built in drain board .(This builds up about every 3 days)

Notice that trash is about to overflow. Take trash out of can, replace bag . Stick full bag by front door for later. Now that I have room in the trash, I remember that the bag less vacuum cleaner is so full it doesn't pick up jack.

Drag vacuum out of (only) closet and empty it. Dust goes all over trash can and wall to wall carpeting in bathroom.

"cuss to self"

Shake hands with Cavuto who is sitting by kitchen faucet ,waiting for it to magically turn on and give him water. Smoke while Cavuto drinks out of sink. Notice his dirty starfish and wonder if his anal glands need to be expressed. I already asked my spouse a while back “Do you know how to express a cats anal glands?"
(Met with a resounding “NO!!!!!!!and I'm not gonna learn !!!!!!!")

Hear washer finish. Remove, shake out and sort wet laundry. It must be kind of folded so it's ready to hang on the old lady drying rack, and sorted because some of the socks go in the dining room . Hang the socks, and then trudge back upstairs to hang the rest in the bedroom. (What? you don't do that?)

On way thru living room hear some skank on Maury having 5 daddies tested. She swears EACH one of them is her baby daddy.

"Damn, there's some ho's out there!"

Back when I was single ,I could be like 10 pounds overweight and men acted like I had leprosy.I guess if I was 200 pounds over ,I'd a been a hottie. Live and learn.

Come back downstairs, make second pot of coffee. Shake hands with cavuto. Begin vacuuming the downstairs. Suck up phone cord in vacuum. (The house phone sits on the floor in the hallway because guess where they put the phone plug? that's right ..in the effin bathroom. But No electric outlets allowed in there! That would be out in the hall)

Cuss out loud to self and/or cats.

Turn off vacuum and unravel cord. Reassemble phone.
Resume vacuuming.

Decide I don't have the energy to vacuum the upstairs yet and put vacuum away.
Shake, sort and fold next load of wet laundry. Trudge upstairs and hang it on old lady drying rack.

Come downstairs and start 3rd load of laundry. Make list for grocery store. Notice that the sun is actually shining. Put hand on window to see if I can tell how hellish my walk to the store is going to be.

OMG! Window is warm. Get key, unlock front door and take trash out in my short sleeves.
Realize window was warm from the entire hot water running to deice freezer drawers.

Insert more cuss words.

Use key to lock door. (That’s right, we are locked IN here without a key) Drink more coffee, smoke, shake hands with Cavuto while waiting for laundry to finish. Wipe scum out of O'reilly's eyes .(he has clogged tear ducts)Looks like dirty poodle eyes.

Why be normal?

Sit on couch for a minute, see that King of Queens is on. Think how lovely it would be to just sit and watch TV. , force myself to get back up immediately!

Shake, sort and fold last load of wet laundry. Haul it upstairs and hang it on old lady drying rack.

Yell at O'Reilly to quit trying to bury his puke in the carpet. (If I let it dry a little, it doesn't make a big mess when I clean it up)

Ran out of cigarettes a couple hours ago. Ran out of T.P. yesterday. I can live without food and vodka, but not cigs or toilet paper. The time has come. I must FORCE myself to walk to the store.

Insert cuss words.

Get rolling back pack, scarf and gloves. Then remember that I have not one stitch of makeup on. Look in mirror; see my 2 enormo pimples sitting there like 2 extra heads. Consider going back upstairs to put makeup on.

Tell self out loud " Who the hell cares! No one knows you. You don't know them. You're just some zitty ole bag lady as far as they know."

I throw on what I call my "quarantine coat" It's hideous, greenish corduroy, 2 sizes to big ,but it's the warmest one I have. Then, my hat. Whoo! If I don't look like a bag lady now, I don't know what does.

I get out there and start walking. Man, if the effin wind wasn't blowing it might be ok. But NOOOOO ... that wind has to always be blowing.

Insert cuss words.


I walk the entire way to the store feeling just like I have a bloody nose. No way to know. If someone saw me (some zitty bag woman) with a bloody nose ,they probably wouldn't even tell me!

No way to know if it's frozen snots or a bloody nose. Frankly, by the time I get out of the wind, I don't even care any more.

Once in the warmth of the store, I put my backpack in my cart and mosey down every aisle. (This is the entertainment of the day) I come in there with a list.

We get "club points” for spending a fortune at their store and also for using our own bags.

Every month they send you vouchers for dollar value, for this. Today was the first time I ever used any of these vouchers. My list was : diet coke, vodka, potatoes, celery, sweet and low pills, toilet paper,

I threw in a toothbrush, a single stack of Oreos and a 47 pence Cornish pie. (I realized I hadn't eaten all day) Oh ...AND I searched their minisule sewing section and found some velcro for the curtains.

The total was 30 sum'thin' pounds, after they swiped my vouchers, all I had to pay was about 6 pounds. Sa weeet!

My joy was short lived. I still had the windy joy of dragging my bag and my running nose back home. The colder it is, the faster you try to walk. It's never fast enough.

Insert more cuss words.

I'm too exhausted to go on writing........




To be continued.









Stay tuned for such highlights as velcoing the curtains, cleaning up the cat vomit, scrubbing the toliets......




Happy whatever day it is!

Luv me