Today was Halloween which means the first of my beloved Charlie Brown specials was on. Call me sentimental, a sap, or even pathetic, but I love me some Peanuts. Our usual routine is watching The Great Pumpkin after trick or treating is over, but this year the begging for candy has to wait until November 1st due to severe weather. To quote Joshua " That's not going to work. Halloween is October 31st, don't they know this is killing the Halloween vibe???" Anyway, because of the delay there was no hurrying home to change into jammies and hoping the DVR was set to record. At 8:00 we were in pjs, snuggled up on the couch with a huge bowl of popcorn. I was blissfully happy.
Then I got a little sad.
How many more years are they going to want to do this with me? Ever since they were babies I would get cozy in the recliner with them and watch whatever holiday cartoon was on. I loved it when they were little enough that the three of us could sit in the chair together, one on each side of me. It was the best feeling. They don't remember those times, but I'll never forget them. I figure I still have at least three years of them not fighting or refusing to watch with me. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll get to have them watch with me through middle school when they think everything on earth is lame, especially their parents. When they decide they have better things to do than watch uber lame and really old cartoons with their mom, I hope they will remember what a special time it was for us and how I loved sharing with them something I loved from my childhood.
Then I hope they drag their asses home, make some popcorn, and join me on the couch.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Monday, October 28, 2013
For My Baby Sister-Now Leave Me Alone!!
This blog is being written with one purpose: to get my baby sister to stop begging me to write about her. I feel like it would only be fair to make my next blog about my other dear little sis, Stephanie, however she would more than likely kick my ass and her devious mind scares me. So, Casey Leigh, this is for you.
In my mind you will always be three years old. That is how old you were when we met and you will never be anything but the adorable little melon head with the killer ponytail. We didn't have the typical sister relationship when you were growing up but I think it worked out to our advantage. Had we lived together we wouldn't have gotten along as well as we did and I probably would have thought you were annoying. ;)
I know you think I mother you at times, but shit, I'm 13 years older than you!! We've never been able to relate to each other on the same level. I had the Smurfs, you had Rugrats. I had New Kids on the Block, you had Backstreet Boys. When you were growing up those 13 years made a huge difference and my sisterly advice came out more like mom nagging. But it was always intended with love and out of concern for you.
So here's my sisterly advice for you. NO MORE GUYS WHO WEAR SKINNY JEANS!!! For real. The last one was an asshat and you can do so much better. He was cuter than some of the other guys you've dated, but looks don't mean shit when you have the personality of a used bottle of Summer's Eve. You have your heart set on being a cop. Does it thrill me? Fuck no it doesn't! You're 3 years old!! But if that's what you want don't let anyone talk you out of it. Unless you hit the lottery you're gonna have to work for the majority of your adult life so you might as well do what makes you happy. Last of all stop caring so much about what other people think. Life is so much better when you march to your own beat and don't give a rat's ass about who doesn't like it. Once you're happy with yourself everything else will fall into place.
In conclusion when you're 80 and I'm 93 you will still be my baby sister and I will still give my opinion whether you want it or not. Now, for the love of God stop whining! Here's your blog post, so smile and be happy I wrote a nice one. Love you always melon head. :)
In my mind you will always be three years old. That is how old you were when we met and you will never be anything but the adorable little melon head with the killer ponytail. We didn't have the typical sister relationship when you were growing up but I think it worked out to our advantage. Had we lived together we wouldn't have gotten along as well as we did and I probably would have thought you were annoying. ;)
I know you think I mother you at times, but shit, I'm 13 years older than you!! We've never been able to relate to each other on the same level. I had the Smurfs, you had Rugrats. I had New Kids on the Block, you had Backstreet Boys. When you were growing up those 13 years made a huge difference and my sisterly advice came out more like mom nagging. But it was always intended with love and out of concern for you.
So here's my sisterly advice for you. NO MORE GUYS WHO WEAR SKINNY JEANS!!! For real. The last one was an asshat and you can do so much better. He was cuter than some of the other guys you've dated, but looks don't mean shit when you have the personality of a used bottle of Summer's Eve. You have your heart set on being a cop. Does it thrill me? Fuck no it doesn't! You're 3 years old!! But if that's what you want don't let anyone talk you out of it. Unless you hit the lottery you're gonna have to work for the majority of your adult life so you might as well do what makes you happy. Last of all stop caring so much about what other people think. Life is so much better when you march to your own beat and don't give a rat's ass about who doesn't like it. Once you're happy with yourself everything else will fall into place.
In conclusion when you're 80 and I'm 93 you will still be my baby sister and I will still give my opinion whether you want it or not. Now, for the love of God stop whining! Here's your blog post, so smile and be happy I wrote a nice one. Love you always melon head. :)
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Sometimes Less Really is More
I'm rarely at a loss for words. Words are kind of my thing. Writing, talking, singing(badly) etc, I usually have an answer, a witty or snarky remark, a movie quote or song lyric on the tip of my tongue ready to be fired off. So tonight needs to be marked in the history books.
I can talk about Autism and Autism awareness at length. My current goal is to write a children's book about the subject. You can imagine how shocked I was when asked by a question by an 8 year old that I was stumped. Literally stumped.
Natalie had a friend over, someone who comes over quite a bit and is a really great kid. Joshua was across the street at his friend's house and the girls and I were hanging out in the living room. They were playing Just Dance 3 and I was lying on the couch trying not to make it obvious I was dozing off. Then the little girl asked "Why does Joshua always talk about Minecraft? Why does he always want to show me what he's built? I told him I don't like Minecraft. Why does he cry if he can't play it?"
My brain was about to short circuit trying to figure out the best way to answer her. Do I go into a long, drawn out explanation about how Autism is a neurological disorder? Do I tell her that Joshua has obsessions that become all he talks about, thinks about, wants to play, and if he can't do those things he can't explain his frustration without an outburst? Do I throw out words like spectrum, Asperger's, high functioning or meltdowns? If I can't explain this to her, how in the world am I going to write a book about it??
"Do you know what Autism is?" I asked her. She shook her head no so I went on. "Well, it means Joshua does things a little differently than other people. He loves Minecraft and doesn't understand why others don't love it as much as he does. To him it is the only thing to talk about and nothing else matters." She still just looked at me. I went on and on for a few minutes about how even though he does and sees things differently than her and other kids, he is still very much like them. How different doesn't mean bad or weird.
She looked at me, thoughtfully. " So it's in his brain? Ok." And with that she went back to dancing and I went back to breathing.
A few minutes later Joshua walked through the door. "Hey, do you want to see the log ride I built in Minecraft?" he asked her. "It's like a water roller coaster!!"
She just smiled and said sure. I wish everyone in the world was as easy going about it as she was. That will only happen if we can talk about it.
I can talk about Autism and Autism awareness at length. My current goal is to write a children's book about the subject. You can imagine how shocked I was when asked by a question by an 8 year old that I was stumped. Literally stumped.
Natalie had a friend over, someone who comes over quite a bit and is a really great kid. Joshua was across the street at his friend's house and the girls and I were hanging out in the living room. They were playing Just Dance 3 and I was lying on the couch trying not to make it obvious I was dozing off. Then the little girl asked "Why does Joshua always talk about Minecraft? Why does he always want to show me what he's built? I told him I don't like Minecraft. Why does he cry if he can't play it?"
My brain was about to short circuit trying to figure out the best way to answer her. Do I go into a long, drawn out explanation about how Autism is a neurological disorder? Do I tell her that Joshua has obsessions that become all he talks about, thinks about, wants to play, and if he can't do those things he can't explain his frustration without an outburst? Do I throw out words like spectrum, Asperger's, high functioning or meltdowns? If I can't explain this to her, how in the world am I going to write a book about it??
"Do you know what Autism is?" I asked her. She shook her head no so I went on. "Well, it means Joshua does things a little differently than other people. He loves Minecraft and doesn't understand why others don't love it as much as he does. To him it is the only thing to talk about and nothing else matters." She still just looked at me. I went on and on for a few minutes about how even though he does and sees things differently than her and other kids, he is still very much like them. How different doesn't mean bad or weird.
She looked at me, thoughtfully. " So it's in his brain? Ok." And with that she went back to dancing and I went back to breathing.
A few minutes later Joshua walked through the door. "Hey, do you want to see the log ride I built in Minecraft?" he asked her. "It's like a water roller coaster!!"
She just smiled and said sure. I wish everyone in the world was as easy going about it as she was. That will only happen if we can talk about it.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
I'm Inappropriate. Who Knew??
I got scolded yesterday on Facebook. Scolded like a two year old throwing a temper tantrum. Apparently I am inappropriate and need to keep the content on my own personal page clean because children can read what I post. To that I have one thing to say.
Not my problem.
Here's my beef with the issue. The person who scolded me allows her children to read her Facebook. The post she had a problem with was a picture I shared of the oh so hot Norman Reedus in which he was wearing an apron that said "Fuck". That was it. I understand not everyone likes or uses that word but I still didn't feel as if this was the worst thing I could ever share. She left a comment that said "Girl. Keep it clean. My children read this." The thing is, I was under the impression I was friends with her on Facebook, not her children. I am not friends with kids online because I know I can be inappropriate. I do not appreciate being told to keep my page clean because of the decision she makes to let her kids read what adults are posting.
I am not taking issue with how she is raising her children. There are a lot things I shelter my kids from because I don't think they are old enough to be exposed to them. I monitor what they watch on TV, the things they look up online and the video games they play. There are some words I use in front of them that I don't think are too bad (ass, hell, damn) and there are the F bombs and such that I do not say in their presence. I'm not saying I never slip and say them. When I slammed my finger in the bathroom door and broke it the first word out of my mouth was a big, healthy "FUCK!!!". But my everyday dialogue is not straight out of a Quentin Tarantino movie by any means.
I deleted her comment because looking at it made smoke come out my ears. After a few minutes of deciding what to say I sent her a private message. Private, because I do not like trying to publicly shame people. ( I do not consider this to be "shaming" her because unlike Facebook the only name on here is mine.) I told her I was sorry if my post offended her, but I am not friends with children on Facebook because I do not censor what I say. If she wanted to unfriend me I completely understood and would not take offense because I could not promise that I would not offend her in the future.
She unfriended me and truth be told, I was a little offended. Mainly because the only response I got was a swift unfriending. I would have at least given a "Hey, I see where you're coming from but this is what I need to do". If we had been having a conversation in person and her children were present, I have enough common sense to know what to say and what not to say. I do understand boundaries for Pete's sake.
My point is if you don't like what I write, by all means don't read it. I'm not going to second guess everything I say or do because one person might not like it or agree with me. If you don't want your children exposed to certain things, shield them from those things. That is your right as a parent and I have no problem with that. Just don't tell expect other people to change who they are because you don't approve.
Not my problem.
Here's my beef with the issue. The person who scolded me allows her children to read her Facebook. The post she had a problem with was a picture I shared of the oh so hot Norman Reedus in which he was wearing an apron that said "Fuck". That was it. I understand not everyone likes or uses that word but I still didn't feel as if this was the worst thing I could ever share. She left a comment that said "Girl. Keep it clean. My children read this." The thing is, I was under the impression I was friends with her on Facebook, not her children. I am not friends with kids online because I know I can be inappropriate. I do not appreciate being told to keep my page clean because of the decision she makes to let her kids read what adults are posting.
I am not taking issue with how she is raising her children. There are a lot things I shelter my kids from because I don't think they are old enough to be exposed to them. I monitor what they watch on TV, the things they look up online and the video games they play. There are some words I use in front of them that I don't think are too bad (ass, hell, damn) and there are the F bombs and such that I do not say in their presence. I'm not saying I never slip and say them. When I slammed my finger in the bathroom door and broke it the first word out of my mouth was a big, healthy "FUCK!!!". But my everyday dialogue is not straight out of a Quentin Tarantino movie by any means.
I deleted her comment because looking at it made smoke come out my ears. After a few minutes of deciding what to say I sent her a private message. Private, because I do not like trying to publicly shame people. ( I do not consider this to be "shaming" her because unlike Facebook the only name on here is mine.) I told her I was sorry if my post offended her, but I am not friends with children on Facebook because I do not censor what I say. If she wanted to unfriend me I completely understood and would not take offense because I could not promise that I would not offend her in the future.
She unfriended me and truth be told, I was a little offended. Mainly because the only response I got was a swift unfriending. I would have at least given a "Hey, I see where you're coming from but this is what I need to do". If we had been having a conversation in person and her children were present, I have enough common sense to know what to say and what not to say. I do understand boundaries for Pete's sake.
My point is if you don't like what I write, by all means don't read it. I'm not going to second guess everything I say or do because one person might not like it or agree with me. If you don't want your children exposed to certain things, shield them from those things. That is your right as a parent and I have no problem with that. Just don't tell expect other people to change who they are because you don't approve.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Confessions of a Control Freak-READ IT NOW!
I'm ready to make a confession. It is something I have been told for years but tonight it bitch slapped me in the face. So here goes. I, Heather Elizabeth Glaros, am a control freak.
I'm not sure when it happened. I was never a particularly bossy person, if anything I was the person who would get bossed around. I can tell you one thing. When you notice the ugly side of yourself, it sucks. I mean it sucks big, nasty donkey balls. It's embarrassing to think that for some reason I felt like if I didn't bellow out the orders no one would know what to do. Clearly I wasn't giving people enough credit.
When the realization hit me I had two images pop into my mind. The first was me as a jackass complete with the ears and a tail. That is exactly what I felt like. The other was me as Veruca Salt, the spoiled, bossy little witch from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. The image of me stomping my feet and demanding "I want a golden goose and I want it now" made me want to crawl in a hole and die. That's not who I am and is certainly not how I want to be thought of.
From now on I will try harder to loosen the choke hold I have on everything. If something doesn't get done when I think it needs to be done, no biggie. If, for example, clothes aren't folded the way I would fold them, I will not refold them. They will be fine just the way they are. If there are 14 pairs of socks laying in the floor, I will not unleash the beast and demand they be immediately picked up. Ok, I'll probably ask nicely that they be put in the hamper, but I won't turn into Mommie Dearest. There is no reason for me to believe I am the almighty and powerful and the only person who can get things done.
The best way to prove you have no control, is to get spastic and try to prove how much you do.
I'm not sure when it happened. I was never a particularly bossy person, if anything I was the person who would get bossed around. I can tell you one thing. When you notice the ugly side of yourself, it sucks. I mean it sucks big, nasty donkey balls. It's embarrassing to think that for some reason I felt like if I didn't bellow out the orders no one would know what to do. Clearly I wasn't giving people enough credit.
When the realization hit me I had two images pop into my mind. The first was me as a jackass complete with the ears and a tail. That is exactly what I felt like. The other was me as Veruca Salt, the spoiled, bossy little witch from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. The image of me stomping my feet and demanding "I want a golden goose and I want it now" made me want to crawl in a hole and die. That's not who I am and is certainly not how I want to be thought of.
From now on I will try harder to loosen the choke hold I have on everything. If something doesn't get done when I think it needs to be done, no biggie. If, for example, clothes aren't folded the way I would fold them, I will not refold them. They will be fine just the way they are. If there are 14 pairs of socks laying in the floor, I will not unleash the beast and demand they be immediately picked up. Ok, I'll probably ask nicely that they be put in the hamper, but I won't turn into Mommie Dearest. There is no reason for me to believe I am the almighty and powerful and the only person who can get things done.
The best way to prove you have no control, is to get spastic and try to prove how much you do.
Monday, October 21, 2013
Tales of a Holiday Geek-Chapter 1
This is my absolute favorite time of the year. I am a holiday geek and October, November and December bring us the holiday trifecta. Halloween is a week away and I'm getting excited. I love taking my kids Trick or Treating(and later raiding their candy bags), I adore seeing little kids in their costumes (so damn cute) and the best part is Halloween brings the first of three months of Charlie Brown specials. Nothing makes my heart sing and my feet do the Snoopy dance like hearing the theme music. I thought about dressing up this year just for shits and giggles. Why not? If I'm disguised well enough I can take my own bag seeing that my 5th grader is just as tall as I am. Don't judge me.
So, we went to Halloween Express to find Natty's costume. For the 4th year in a row she insisted she wanted to be a gothic cheerleader until we get into the store and something different catches her eye. The child is distracted by all things shiny and sparkly and instead of being "Cheerless" she is now going to be Cleopatra. I knew an all black, non shiny outfit couldn't compete with the fabulousness of an Egyptian queen. Once we got her squared away I thought it would be fun to see what I might find for me.
Oh. My. God.
First off, October isn't a hot month so my costume will need a bit more material than what I saw in the store. I freeze pretty easily and I would be afraid to shiver too much for fear the girls would fall out. Second, the words "sexy", "naughty", "wicked", and "hot" are not words I would use to describe myself so I really can't see me wearing an outfit with those words in the title. I know it's Halloween and the point of dressing up is to be someone you're not, but it would take a freaking magician for me to be able to pull that off. Also, the sizes on these things say "fits up to size 12-14, model is 5'7 and weighs 115 lbs." Bitch please. There is no way in hell that costume would fit my 5'2, size 12, none of your damn business what the scale says body and look like the model. My version of reality is not that skewed. My original plan was to be Velma from Scooby Doo because I can totally relate to the nerdy vibe, or Hit Girl from Kick Ass because I already know I look good with purple hair. Didn't find a Hit Girl and the "non sexy" Velma costume only came in kid sizes. But fear not! I will not be defeated.
Fuck this. Be Yoda, I will.
So, we went to Halloween Express to find Natty's costume. For the 4th year in a row she insisted she wanted to be a gothic cheerleader until we get into the store and something different catches her eye. The child is distracted by all things shiny and sparkly and instead of being "Cheerless" she is now going to be Cleopatra. I knew an all black, non shiny outfit couldn't compete with the fabulousness of an Egyptian queen. Once we got her squared away I thought it would be fun to see what I might find for me.
Oh. My. God.
First off, October isn't a hot month so my costume will need a bit more material than what I saw in the store. I freeze pretty easily and I would be afraid to shiver too much for fear the girls would fall out. Second, the words "sexy", "naughty", "wicked", and "hot" are not words I would use to describe myself so I really can't see me wearing an outfit with those words in the title. I know it's Halloween and the point of dressing up is to be someone you're not, but it would take a freaking magician for me to be able to pull that off. Also, the sizes on these things say "fits up to size 12-14, model is 5'7 and weighs 115 lbs." Bitch please. There is no way in hell that costume would fit my 5'2, size 12, none of your damn business what the scale says body and look like the model. My version of reality is not that skewed. My original plan was to be Velma from Scooby Doo because I can totally relate to the nerdy vibe, or Hit Girl from Kick Ass because I already know I look good with purple hair. Didn't find a Hit Girl and the "non sexy" Velma costume only came in kid sizes. But fear not! I will not be defeated.
Fuck this. Be Yoda, I will.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Hedda the Grouch
I'm feeling kind of blah right now. No real reason, just feeling kind of blah and in a pissy mood. I don't like being in a bad mood so I thought maybe I would feel better to make a list of all things that irritate the hell out of me. Maybe it will help me get the grumps out of my system.
1. Morning people. It is not natural to jump out of bed when the alarm goes off the first time and be all "oh what a beautiful morning! I am so happy to leave my warm and cozy bed!" How do they do that? Really, I want to know.
2. Possums. Ok, they don't irritate me as much as they scare me, but there is no real reason for them! They're creepy, they hiss and almost made me piss my pants once when one crawled out from under my car. They're useless and I hate them.
3. Toothpaste in the sink. That's just gross. I don't want to wipe up any one else's spit, I don't care how closely related I am to them.
4. People who cook fish in the microwave at work. Seriously, the office does not have a good enough ventilation system for that kind of fuckery.
5. People who park so close you have to get in your car through the passenger side. Thanks a lot douche nozzle. If I had known you were going to do that I would have left the window down so I could at least feel a little cool and climb in Duke boy style instead of awkwardly falling across the front seat!
6.Food samples being handed out in the mall. Thank you, but I don't want to try the bourbon chicken that you're shoving in everyone's face and getting their germs all over. I don't need a side of the flu with my chicken. I'm good.
7. This one really grates my last nerve. "They're", "their", and "there" are 3 different words that have 3 different meanings. For the love of God please use them correctly. Also, you do not "conversate" you have a conversation!!
8. The Geico hump day commercial. I think I'm the only person who hates it, but I don't give a rat's ass!! That thing is horrible and my family loves it! UGH!!!!
I do feel a little better now. Doing this makes me realize that my list of things that make me smile is much, much longer and for that I am happy.
1. Morning people. It is not natural to jump out of bed when the alarm goes off the first time and be all "oh what a beautiful morning! I am so happy to leave my warm and cozy bed!" How do they do that? Really, I want to know.
2. Possums. Ok, they don't irritate me as much as they scare me, but there is no real reason for them! They're creepy, they hiss and almost made me piss my pants once when one crawled out from under my car. They're useless and I hate them.
3. Toothpaste in the sink. That's just gross. I don't want to wipe up any one else's spit, I don't care how closely related I am to them.
4. People who cook fish in the microwave at work. Seriously, the office does not have a good enough ventilation system for that kind of fuckery.
5. People who park so close you have to get in your car through the passenger side. Thanks a lot douche nozzle. If I had known you were going to do that I would have left the window down so I could at least feel a little cool and climb in Duke boy style instead of awkwardly falling across the front seat!
6.Food samples being handed out in the mall. Thank you, but I don't want to try the bourbon chicken that you're shoving in everyone's face and getting their germs all over. I don't need a side of the flu with my chicken. I'm good.
7. This one really grates my last nerve. "They're", "their", and "there" are 3 different words that have 3 different meanings. For the love of God please use them correctly. Also, you do not "conversate" you have a conversation!!
8. The Geico hump day commercial. I think I'm the only person who hates it, but I don't give a rat's ass!! That thing is horrible and my family loves it! UGH!!!!
I do feel a little better now. Doing this makes me realize that my list of things that make me smile is much, much longer and for that I am happy.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
In My Golden Years
There really is nothing quite like a backhanded compliment. What else can make you smile one second and then immediately get a WTF expression on your face? I was on the receiving end of one the other day and oh how I wanted nothing more than to cuss the old hag who gave it to me. I didn't but it made me realize something.
It must be nice to be old as shit and say whatever you want and get away with it.
I was at work, waiting for my turn at the copier and minding my own business. The old bat came up behind me and started to chit chat.
"I love the color of your hair. It's so pretty" she said.
Side note-my current hair color is Manic Panic Vampire Red. Not at all a natural shade of red but it's amazing and I rock the hell out of it. Last month it was dark brown with bright purple streaks. Normal hair is boring. Back to the story.
"Thank you," I replied
"Are you going to any Halloween parties?" she asked.
Seeing this is October I didn't think this was an odd question.
"I'd like too."
"Well you're ready for it with that hair color".
I just stared at her. I maintained my composure, made my copies and walked back to my desk while cussing the old biddy in my mind. If I was a mean and nasty person I would have suggested she could do my make up for Halloween since she looks like Bozo's grandmother but I didn't. I'm not old enough to say shitty things to people and get away with it by playing the senile card. I may be lacking a filter but at least I don't insult people to their face! (not on purpose anyway)
I think I'll start a list now of things I want to say when I'm old and can say whatever I want without repercussions. I want to get the most out of my golden years that I possibly can!
It must be nice to be old as shit and say whatever you want and get away with it.
I was at work, waiting for my turn at the copier and minding my own business. The old bat came up behind me and started to chit chat.
"I love the color of your hair. It's so pretty" she said.
Side note-my current hair color is Manic Panic Vampire Red. Not at all a natural shade of red but it's amazing and I rock the hell out of it. Last month it was dark brown with bright purple streaks. Normal hair is boring. Back to the story.
"Thank you," I replied
"Are you going to any Halloween parties?" she asked.
Seeing this is October I didn't think this was an odd question.
"I'd like too."
"Well you're ready for it with that hair color".
I just stared at her. I maintained my composure, made my copies and walked back to my desk while cussing the old biddy in my mind. If I was a mean and nasty person I would have suggested she could do my make up for Halloween since she looks like Bozo's grandmother but I didn't. I'm not old enough to say shitty things to people and get away with it by playing the senile card. I may be lacking a filter but at least I don't insult people to their face! (not on purpose anyway)
I think I'll start a list now of things I want to say when I'm old and can say whatever I want without repercussions. I want to get the most out of my golden years that I possibly can!
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Things I Don't Understand...And I'm Not Going To Try
There are some things in life I just don't understand. Most of these things I'm not even going to try and understand because I don't feel the need to torture myself and get a self induced migraine. A few of these things make me feel old, some make me feel like a bitch and the rest, well you'll see what I mean.
1. Leggings. Leggings are not pants! They're meant to be worn under skirts, dresses, tunics or other apparel long enough to cover your ass. I really don't need to see your butt crack or camel toe through your clothing!
2. Speaking of skirts and dresses. I saw a few this past weekend at the football game that left me scratching my head. For starter, how do you sit comfortably in something that short?? Seriously, had they bent over you would have seen just as much as their gynecologist. Second of all, why are you dressed like a hooker at a FOOTBALL GAME?!It looked like the ho stroll through the parking lot. You can be cute without showing all the goodies, ladies!
3. Here is something that most females love but I don't see the big deal. What is so great about Ryan Gosling and Channing Tatum? Ryan Gosling is a great actor, I'll give you that, but I don't see the what is so hot about him. Channing Tatum I just don't see the appeal at all. I actually think he's looks kind of goofy.
4. Same goes for Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey. I can't bring myself to get into sparkly vampires or mommy porn. I just can't do it.
5. Duck Faces. I have never once looked at a duck and thought to myself, "now there is an animal with a sexy face". So why do girls make those faces and think it's attractive? Please help understand this one.
6. The last one for today is *drumroll please* skinny jeans on guys. What.The.Fuck. Just don't. Please. I really can't take it.
Maybe this makes me old, or a bitch, or even an old bitch but one thing I know for sure is it makes me wonder what the hell is going on!
1. Leggings. Leggings are not pants! They're meant to be worn under skirts, dresses, tunics or other apparel long enough to cover your ass. I really don't need to see your butt crack or camel toe through your clothing!
2. Speaking of skirts and dresses. I saw a few this past weekend at the football game that left me scratching my head. For starter, how do you sit comfortably in something that short?? Seriously, had they bent over you would have seen just as much as their gynecologist. Second of all, why are you dressed like a hooker at a FOOTBALL GAME?!It looked like the ho stroll through the parking lot. You can be cute without showing all the goodies, ladies!
3. Here is something that most females love but I don't see the big deal. What is so great about Ryan Gosling and Channing Tatum? Ryan Gosling is a great actor, I'll give you that, but I don't see the what is so hot about him. Channing Tatum I just don't see the appeal at all. I actually think he's looks kind of goofy.
4. Same goes for Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey. I can't bring myself to get into sparkly vampires or mommy porn. I just can't do it.
5. Duck Faces. I have never once looked at a duck and thought to myself, "now there is an animal with a sexy face". So why do girls make those faces and think it's attractive? Please help understand this one.
6. The last one for today is *drumroll please* skinny jeans on guys. What.The.Fuck. Just don't. Please. I really can't take it.
Maybe this makes me old, or a bitch, or even an old bitch but one thing I know for sure is it makes me wonder what the hell is going on!
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
What Kind of Burger Am I?
One of the most stressful things about getting Joshua's Asperger's diagnosis was wondering how we were going to, if we were going to, tell him. Of course we would tell him, but when? He was 9 when after years and years of evaluations, testing and therapy sessions that we finally got an answer. Do we wait until we've had more time to absorb the information? Will he understand better if he's just a little older. We truly didn't know what to do and I was making myself sick from worry.
There is no way we would have kept this from him. Joshua's a smart kid and he was at the age where kids start being real mean asses if someone is different. He deserved to know what was going on and why he got to leave school early every week to go "play" with Angie (his occupational therapist) and once a month to go chat it up with Marc (his therapist).
One day, a few weeks after we got the official diagnosis, we were on our way home after leaving a therapy session. I don't remember exactly what we were doing or talking about but I'll never, ever forget the words that came out of Joshua's mouth.
"Mom? What kind of burger am I?"
Huh? What on Earth is he talking about?
"What do you mean, sweetie?" I asked him.
"Well, Marc said I was a burger and I wondered what kind of burger."
Our mouths hit the floor. The whole time we would be in these session and Joshua would tune us out to color or draw while the adults talked, he was listening and remembering every word we said. We never said "Aspergers" above a whisper in these meetings because we wanted time to figure out what to tell him. Joshua solved that problem for us. I said the first thing that came to mind.
"You're totally a cheeseburger."
When we got home we sat down with him and explained in our best 9 year old terms what it meant to have Asperger's and how it affects him. He would nod and listen intently and then all we got in response was "Ok. Can I play with your phone?"
That was it. The big dramatic reveal. All the weeks of wondering what to say that was making me so unnerved that I was losing sleep and my face was breaking out like I was a 13 year old boy and he has the audacity to take it in stride. Humph. The nerve.
In all seriousness I was relieved he took it so well. The last thing I wanted was for him to be upset or think this made him less than what he was. I learned something very important that day that I try my hardest to remember. If Joshua's not stressing, Momma doesn't need to stress. Easier said than done, but I'm working on it.
There is no way we would have kept this from him. Joshua's a smart kid and he was at the age where kids start being real mean asses if someone is different. He deserved to know what was going on and why he got to leave school early every week to go "play" with Angie (his occupational therapist) and once a month to go chat it up with Marc (his therapist).
One day, a few weeks after we got the official diagnosis, we were on our way home after leaving a therapy session. I don't remember exactly what we were doing or talking about but I'll never, ever forget the words that came out of Joshua's mouth.
"Mom? What kind of burger am I?"
Huh? What on Earth is he talking about?
"What do you mean, sweetie?" I asked him.
"Well, Marc said I was a burger and I wondered what kind of burger."
Our mouths hit the floor. The whole time we would be in these session and Joshua would tune us out to color or draw while the adults talked, he was listening and remembering every word we said. We never said "Aspergers" above a whisper in these meetings because we wanted time to figure out what to tell him. Joshua solved that problem for us. I said the first thing that came to mind.
"You're totally a cheeseburger."
When we got home we sat down with him and explained in our best 9 year old terms what it meant to have Asperger's and how it affects him. He would nod and listen intently and then all we got in response was "Ok. Can I play with your phone?"
That was it. The big dramatic reveal. All the weeks of wondering what to say that was making me so unnerved that I was losing sleep and my face was breaking out like I was a 13 year old boy and he has the audacity to take it in stride. Humph. The nerve.
In all seriousness I was relieved he took it so well. The last thing I wanted was for him to be upset or think this made him less than what he was. I learned something very important that day that I try my hardest to remember. If Joshua's not stressing, Momma doesn't need to stress. Easier said than done, but I'm working on it.
Monday, October 14, 2013
Life Lessons For My Children
I've learned a lot of lessons since becoming a mom. I've learned that I'm a lot tougher than I ever thought I could be. Not just from giving birth twice (36 freaking hours for the first kid. ugh) but from things I've never expected such as an Autism diagnosis and my daughter dealing with "mean girls" in the 2nd grade. I'm no longer squeamish or easily nauseated and I know the difference between the "oh shit I'm bleeding and really hurt" scream to the "my sister is annoying me and won't go away" scream without having to set foot in the room. Those are just a few of the things they have taught me, here are some things I want my children to learn from me.
1. I am teaching you right from wrong. It's up to you to remember to use it. Right now it's pretty easy because you're just 8 and 10. The real test will be when you are teenagers and not under my constant supervision. I just hope and pray that you will remember what I have taught you about right and wrong and that you practice it. When faced with that decision I want you to picture me, your loving mother who sacrificed so much for you and you decide you just can't break her heart. (I'm not Catholic but that's a healthy dose of Catholic guilt for ya) If you choose "wrong" I hope to have instilled the same fear in you my mother instilled in me and you know that you'll never do that again. I still shudder at the thought of pissing off your Mimi. That being said...
2. You get in a shit ton less trouble if you tell me the truth. I don't care what you did; robbed a bank, mugged an old woman or kicked a kitten, if you lie to me there will be hell to pay. You're still going to get punished(who could really kick a kitten???) but it won't be as severe if you fess up to what you did.
3. Be nice to people. It's really not that hard. I could give you an old southern saying such as "you attract more flies with honey than vinegar" but here's the truth. No one likes an asshole. Treat people the way you want to be treated. I am NOT telling you to be a pushover or take crap. By all means stand up for yourself. But I never want to hear that you threw the first punch. Don't start the fight, but don't let them think you won't finish it.
4.Always be true to yourself. This is a hard one. Peer pressure is a total bitch and you haven't yet reached the ages where it will get really bad. Real friends won't ask you to compromise who you are. They will love you regardless.
5. This one is especially for my baby girl. I hope you never lose your sense of style. It is uniquely Natalie and I LOVE it. You're like my own little Punky Brewster. You wear big, fake flowers in your hair, purple snow boots with sundresses, your socks never match and you always look AMAZING! I want you to always have the confidence you have now and never let anyone tell you that you don't look fabulous. I doubt that will be a problem because you're one kick ass, tough chick, but I wanted you to hear it from me. :)
6. Here's one for my boy. Asperger's sucks. We know that. But it is NOT going to get the best of you. You are without a doubt the funniest, wittiest kid I have ever met. You have kept me laughing since you were a baby. You mind has always astounded me. What 2 year old can tell you all the parts of a train? I'm not talking about the engine and caboose, I mean all the things that make it run and how they fit together. I'll never forget when you shocked the teacher at your kindergarten evaluation when you asked her if she knew what a geyser was and you proceeded to name a few and how they erupt. The social skills will come with time. You are not the problem, how people react to you is their own problem. When in doubt refer to number 3. They're assholes.
As my babies get older I'm sure I'll add to the list. I am dreading the day when I have to give advice about dating, heartbreak and all the hard stuff that comes with that age. For now, I'll just keep it simple. The only thing they really need to know is how much I love them and always will.
1. I am teaching you right from wrong. It's up to you to remember to use it. Right now it's pretty easy because you're just 8 and 10. The real test will be when you are teenagers and not under my constant supervision. I just hope and pray that you will remember what I have taught you about right and wrong and that you practice it. When faced with that decision I want you to picture me, your loving mother who sacrificed so much for you and you decide you just can't break her heart. (I'm not Catholic but that's a healthy dose of Catholic guilt for ya) If you choose "wrong" I hope to have instilled the same fear in you my mother instilled in me and you know that you'll never do that again. I still shudder at the thought of pissing off your Mimi. That being said...
2. You get in a shit ton less trouble if you tell me the truth. I don't care what you did; robbed a bank, mugged an old woman or kicked a kitten, if you lie to me there will be hell to pay. You're still going to get punished(who could really kick a kitten???) but it won't be as severe if you fess up to what you did.
3. Be nice to people. It's really not that hard. I could give you an old southern saying such as "you attract more flies with honey than vinegar" but here's the truth. No one likes an asshole. Treat people the way you want to be treated. I am NOT telling you to be a pushover or take crap. By all means stand up for yourself. But I never want to hear that you threw the first punch. Don't start the fight, but don't let them think you won't finish it.
4.Always be true to yourself. This is a hard one. Peer pressure is a total bitch and you haven't yet reached the ages where it will get really bad. Real friends won't ask you to compromise who you are. They will love you regardless.
5. This one is especially for my baby girl. I hope you never lose your sense of style. It is uniquely Natalie and I LOVE it. You're like my own little Punky Brewster. You wear big, fake flowers in your hair, purple snow boots with sundresses, your socks never match and you always look AMAZING! I want you to always have the confidence you have now and never let anyone tell you that you don't look fabulous. I doubt that will be a problem because you're one kick ass, tough chick, but I wanted you to hear it from me. :)
6. Here's one for my boy. Asperger's sucks. We know that. But it is NOT going to get the best of you. You are without a doubt the funniest, wittiest kid I have ever met. You have kept me laughing since you were a baby. You mind has always astounded me. What 2 year old can tell you all the parts of a train? I'm not talking about the engine and caboose, I mean all the things that make it run and how they fit together. I'll never forget when you shocked the teacher at your kindergarten evaluation when you asked her if she knew what a geyser was and you proceeded to name a few and how they erupt. The social skills will come with time. You are not the problem, how people react to you is their own problem. When in doubt refer to number 3. They're assholes.
As my babies get older I'm sure I'll add to the list. I am dreading the day when I have to give advice about dating, heartbreak and all the hard stuff that comes with that age. For now, I'll just keep it simple. The only thing they really need to know is how much I love them and always will.
Friday, October 11, 2013
The Mall is the Gateway to Hell!
I know I do a lot things that may not make sense. Just in the last month I adopted a dog out of a moment of weakness that has brought our total to 3, I buried a squirrel to calm down my animal loving daughter, and tonight I outdid myself. I took 3 kids to the mall. Three kids ages 6, 8, and 10. Believe me when I say it would have been easier if they were all still stroller size!!My only reason for going to the mall was I wanted to get a UK shirt to wear to the game Saturday. I parked at the closest entrance to the store I wanted to go in and thought it would be an easy peasy trip. I obviously need to quit thinking.
What is it about walking through the doors of the mall that is like entering the gates of hell? It was hot as balls in that place and I swear they do it on purpose. We barely made it in the door when suddenly 2 out of 3 kids suddenly became so thirsty you would have thought they had crossed the desert. My nephew started speaking as if he had a scratchy throat to prove his point. I called bullshit on that one because him and my daughter talked nonstop in the car and trust me, there was not a voice issue. Anyway, we made our way to the nearest water fountain because the last thing I wanted to do was try to deal with 3 kids with Cokes walking through the mall.
Once the kids drank enough water to hold over a camel we made our way through the mall. As we walked past Justice I saw Natalie get the glazed over look in her eye from all the sparkles and sequins and knew we would have to go in. Joshua actually gagged at the thought of going in the "girl store" . Here he is, standing in front of the entrance, acting like I had just asked him to scoop dog poop out of the yard with his bare hands. My nerves were unraveling at a very fast pace.
Just to fast forward through the rest of our adventure in one hour we had: 2 bathroom breaks, 1 water fountain stop, 1 stop for Cokes because I was informed water fountain water was disgusting(and I have to agree), 1 trip to the Disney store that makes me hate all things related to the mouse, a stop at the cookie counter because nothing grabs a kid's attention like a display case of baked goodness with sprinkles and finally we head back to the car all the while my nephew is complaining his feet hurt because the mall is too big to walk around! Screw the cookies, mama wants a drink!!
I do however consider this to be a successful trip as I left the mall with just as many kids as I entered with, I bought 2 new UK t shirts and most importantly, I did not flip my shit and get dragged away in a straitjacket. This record will stand for years because I am in no hurry to try and best it ;)
What is it about walking through the doors of the mall that is like entering the gates of hell? It was hot as balls in that place and I swear they do it on purpose. We barely made it in the door when suddenly 2 out of 3 kids suddenly became so thirsty you would have thought they had crossed the desert. My nephew started speaking as if he had a scratchy throat to prove his point. I called bullshit on that one because him and my daughter talked nonstop in the car and trust me, there was not a voice issue. Anyway, we made our way to the nearest water fountain because the last thing I wanted to do was try to deal with 3 kids with Cokes walking through the mall.
Once the kids drank enough water to hold over a camel we made our way through the mall. As we walked past Justice I saw Natalie get the glazed over look in her eye from all the sparkles and sequins and knew we would have to go in. Joshua actually gagged at the thought of going in the "girl store" . Here he is, standing in front of the entrance, acting like I had just asked him to scoop dog poop out of the yard with his bare hands. My nerves were unraveling at a very fast pace.
Just to fast forward through the rest of our adventure in one hour we had: 2 bathroom breaks, 1 water fountain stop, 1 stop for Cokes because I was informed water fountain water was disgusting(and I have to agree), 1 trip to the Disney store that makes me hate all things related to the mouse, a stop at the cookie counter because nothing grabs a kid's attention like a display case of baked goodness with sprinkles and finally we head back to the car all the while my nephew is complaining his feet hurt because the mall is too big to walk around! Screw the cookies, mama wants a drink!!
I do however consider this to be a successful trip as I left the mall with just as many kids as I entered with, I bought 2 new UK t shirts and most importantly, I did not flip my shit and get dragged away in a straitjacket. This record will stand for years because I am in no hurry to try and best it ;)
Be Careful Pointing Fingers
How does the saying go? When you point your finger at someone the rest are pointing back at you? I don't know if that's exactly how it goes, but you get the idea.
I have a friend who I had not spoken to in a long time. Cut her off without explanation. I justified it by playing the mad card. I created a list of reasons to be mad but I never told her. My mind can be a real tricky bitch and the more I thought these things the more I believed them. Then it hit me. I was mad at myself and it's a lot easier to be mad at someone else. You can't shut yourself out, but you can other people. It's stupid, ridiculous and overall a real jackass thing to do.
I regret it. I have for a long time but I was scared to reach out for fear she was mad at me. She had every right to be. It's really shitty to be best friends with someone for so long and then vanish.The whole time I was pointing my finger at her and blaming her for my not speaking to her, my other fingers were pointing at me and screaming" Hey!! Stop being a stubborn asshole and look in the mirror!" So I did.
I reached out in the wieniest way possible by tagging her in a picture I posted on Facebook. I had friend requested and cancelled the friend request a few times because I was afraid she'd tell me to fuck off. Thankfully she didn't. We've messaged each other and plan on calling later. I hope we can fall back into where we were but if not that's ok. I understand. I apologized but sometimes that's not enough and I get that. But I never want to lose touch again.
The next time I start pointing fingers I'm going to use my hand to slap myself instead. Maybe then I won't be such a jackass.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
It's All Mind Over Matter. I Don't Mind And You Don't Matter.
I have wasted a lot of time worrying what other people thought about me. I would seriously stress myself out over it. What, you don't like me? Why not? Was it because I'm not smart enough? Thin enough? Pretty enough? The list went on and on and on. Until one day it hit me.
I am fucking amazing and if you don't like something about me it's your problem not mine.
The most recent thing that got me thinking about this is the situation I've run into with college. Yes, it would be nice to have a degree. I've always had that as a goal. But realistically, it is not required for what I want to do. If someone thinks less of me because I don't have a degree that is their own screwed up way of thinking. I told Ryan it was important to me to have it because I want to be a good role model for the kids. All he said was "you already are". Just like when I wanted to play roller derby he said "you don't have to prove to anyone you're a bad ass, we already know you are". He's right. I don't have to prove anything to anyone. I AM a bad ass.
The other epiphany I had ( I love that word, don't know why) was it takes way too much time and energy to be constantly worried about other people's opinions. Why do I care if you don't like the latest hair color I'm rockin'? Why do I care if you think the boots I so desperately want are " ugly as sin and I had better be bad so Santa won't bring them"?(that's a direct quote from Casey Withers ;) ) And why do I care about your opinion about my career, education or life in general? I've learned that people who are the biggest haters are the ones who are too chicken shit to stray away from the "normal" path. They can keep normal, I don't want any part of it.
Life is short. Be silly, be quirky, let your freak flag fly and most of all be who you are and not what you think someone else thinks you should.
<3
I am fucking amazing and if you don't like something about me it's your problem not mine.
The most recent thing that got me thinking about this is the situation I've run into with college. Yes, it would be nice to have a degree. I've always had that as a goal. But realistically, it is not required for what I want to do. If someone thinks less of me because I don't have a degree that is their own screwed up way of thinking. I told Ryan it was important to me to have it because I want to be a good role model for the kids. All he said was "you already are". Just like when I wanted to play roller derby he said "you don't have to prove to anyone you're a bad ass, we already know you are". He's right. I don't have to prove anything to anyone. I AM a bad ass.
The other epiphany I had ( I love that word, don't know why) was it takes way too much time and energy to be constantly worried about other people's opinions. Why do I care if you don't like the latest hair color I'm rockin'? Why do I care if you think the boots I so desperately want are " ugly as sin and I had better be bad so Santa won't bring them"?(that's a direct quote from Casey Withers ;) ) And why do I care about your opinion about my career, education or life in general? I've learned that people who are the biggest haters are the ones who are too chicken shit to stray away from the "normal" path. They can keep normal, I don't want any part of it.
Life is short. Be silly, be quirky, let your freak flag fly and most of all be who you are and not what you think someone else thinks you should.
<3
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Curses!! Foiled Again!!
Once again in the saga of trying to get a damn bachelors degree my arch nemesis shows up and derails me. This time I thought I had the problem whipped into submission but the rotten bastard got a second wind.
Drats! I've been foiled again!
I thought this go round of trying to complete my degree was going to go smoothly. I knew it would be rough, as it's not easy to study while being the referee in the kid's grudge matches. But this time was going to be different. When I met with an advisor before classes began I was so relieved when I was told I didn't have to take college algebra. I could take Statistics(which I can't pronounce for shit) or math for liberal arts. I almost did a happy dance in the middle of the office. Woo hoo!! I was finally going to accomplish a goal I made many, many, MANY years ago.
Then today came the dreaded phone call. I called my advisor to discuss classes for the spring semester and she hit me with a freaking one-two punch. I will have to take algebra because the D I fought so hard to get at my previous school will not count toward my general education requirement. I will have to take algebra to even get into the class that will count. Here's the kick in the nuts. I worked hard for that D. I struggled, I cried, I was tutored and a D was my reward. I was so proud to pass and have that class behind me I would have stuck my paper on the fridge with a magnet. It was also the third time I had taken it and I thought third time's a charm. To be told it doesn't count hits where it hurts. There is a reason I'm a writer and not a damn mathematician. Now, the second punch.
I'm an online student at a university an hour and a half away. When I decided to go back to school I researched all my options and carefully chose what I thought was the best option for me. Being told I didn't have to take algebra was the icing on the cake. But I found out I won't be able to take all my classes online. Say what now??? Apparently there was a misunderstanding and my thought I could do everything online was wrong. So, here is where I stand so far. I have to retake a class that makes me so damn anxious I'm surprised I don't break out in hives, and I'm over an hour away from campus. What in the hell am I supposed to do???
I checked my options around here before I enrolled and didn't find what I was looking for. I feel like everything I have done up to this point has been for nothing. All the time I've spent studying when my kids wanted me to be with them, all the nights I've lost sleep and looked like hammered shit the next day, the money I've invested has all been for nothing. I even quit roller derby to go back to school. Finishing my education was a huge deciding factor in my quitting something I loved and had a strong desire to kick ass in. What now? I feel like I'm missing something by not having my degree. I know I don't need one for my career choice, but it never hurts to have it.
I'm really at a loss. I feel defeated and would love if God would drop me a sign as to what I should do. (Pssst!! Are you listening???) This may not seem like a huge deal to some people, but when you've tried so hard for so long, it hurts when it comes around and bites you in the ass. :(
Drats! I've been foiled again!
I thought this go round of trying to complete my degree was going to go smoothly. I knew it would be rough, as it's not easy to study while being the referee in the kid's grudge matches. But this time was going to be different. When I met with an advisor before classes began I was so relieved when I was told I didn't have to take college algebra. I could take Statistics(which I can't pronounce for shit) or math for liberal arts. I almost did a happy dance in the middle of the office. Woo hoo!! I was finally going to accomplish a goal I made many, many, MANY years ago.
Then today came the dreaded phone call. I called my advisor to discuss classes for the spring semester and she hit me with a freaking one-two punch. I will have to take algebra because the D I fought so hard to get at my previous school will not count toward my general education requirement. I will have to take algebra to even get into the class that will count. Here's the kick in the nuts. I worked hard for that D. I struggled, I cried, I was tutored and a D was my reward. I was so proud to pass and have that class behind me I would have stuck my paper on the fridge with a magnet. It was also the third time I had taken it and I thought third time's a charm. To be told it doesn't count hits where it hurts. There is a reason I'm a writer and not a damn mathematician. Now, the second punch.
I'm an online student at a university an hour and a half away. When I decided to go back to school I researched all my options and carefully chose what I thought was the best option for me. Being told I didn't have to take algebra was the icing on the cake. But I found out I won't be able to take all my classes online. Say what now??? Apparently there was a misunderstanding and my thought I could do everything online was wrong. So, here is where I stand so far. I have to retake a class that makes me so damn anxious I'm surprised I don't break out in hives, and I'm over an hour away from campus. What in the hell am I supposed to do???
I checked my options around here before I enrolled and didn't find what I was looking for. I feel like everything I have done up to this point has been for nothing. All the time I've spent studying when my kids wanted me to be with them, all the nights I've lost sleep and looked like hammered shit the next day, the money I've invested has all been for nothing. I even quit roller derby to go back to school. Finishing my education was a huge deciding factor in my quitting something I loved and had a strong desire to kick ass in. What now? I feel like I'm missing something by not having my degree. I know I don't need one for my career choice, but it never hurts to have it.
I'm really at a loss. I feel defeated and would love if God would drop me a sign as to what I should do. (Pssst!! Are you listening???) This may not seem like a huge deal to some people, but when you've tried so hard for so long, it hurts when it comes around and bites you in the ass. :(
Monday, October 7, 2013
Trapped in a Box
It's no secret I don't care for my job. Ok, I fucking hate it. I was "volunteered"( in other words, not given a choice) by my previous supervisors a year ago to join the newly established systems group within out department. This is not a job I would have applied for in the first place. I know dick about systems. I don't care how things work as long as they work and I don't have to fix them when they don't. I hate sitting in a cubicle like a caged monkey and I loathe the feeling of being watched. Not only that, it's boring. I'm not a boring person. I like to be loud and goofy and have fun. One of these days I'm going to stand on my desk and yell "Marco" just to see if anyone will yell "Polo". I'll start a wave around the office, or maybe I'll have spurts of random dancing, ANYTHING to break up the monotony of the day and help me maintain my sanity. I wonder if it would be frowned upon to roller skate around the office? Hmmmm...anyway. I'm only still there because I have 8 years with the company and my pay is good and 3 weeks of vacation plus bonus holidays is pretty damn sweet.
My biggest gripe with the whole situation is they keep moving my desk. I've been moved 4 times since July 2012. I've been moved across buildings, up and down floors and passed around cubicles. I hate it. The next thing you know I'll be in the fucking basement like Milton from the movie Office Space. It will just be me and my stapler. How sad is that???? I can picture it and it's not pretty.
Some of us just aren't meant to be trapped in cubicle hell all day. The way I see it if I'm going to spend 40 hours of my week somewhere I want to be doing something I love. Life is too short to not do what you're passionate about. I'm working on it and I hope an opportunity comes up soon that I can jump on. Until then if you're looking for me and I'm not in the spot I was last time, you can probably find me in the basement. :S
My biggest gripe with the whole situation is they keep moving my desk. I've been moved 4 times since July 2012. I've been moved across buildings, up and down floors and passed around cubicles. I hate it. The next thing you know I'll be in the fucking basement like Milton from the movie Office Space. It will just be me and my stapler. How sad is that???? I can picture it and it's not pretty.
Some of us just aren't meant to be trapped in cubicle hell all day. The way I see it if I'm going to spend 40 hours of my week somewhere I want to be doing something I love. Life is too short to not do what you're passionate about. I'm working on it and I hope an opportunity comes up soon that I can jump on. Until then if you're looking for me and I'm not in the spot I was last time, you can probably find me in the basement. :S
Thursday, October 3, 2013
High School is Haunting Me
I'm under a fair amount of stress these days. I don't know what in the hell possessed me to think that taking 4 classes this semester while working 40 hours a week and taking care of a family would be a wise thing to do. On a good day I can still fit in some sort of workout and these days that's mainly holding on for dear life while being dragged by a 50 pound dog while she chases all the rabbits and squirrels in the neighborhood. (Seriously. It's like a fucking forest around here with all the damn wildlife. Good cardio, though) But when I am stressed I have a recurring dream. This dream has been haunting me for years and it won't go away. 17 long years...
In my dream I'm told that I didn't actually graduate from high school.
I know, I know. That is bat shit crazy. I graduated in freakin 1996. I have my diploma(somewhere), a copy of my transcript, pics of me in my cap and gown and all the proof I need to show that I did in fact escape the halls of Bryan Station High School after 4 years. But in this dream the principal shows up at my house IN THE PRESENT DAY and tells me I didn't actually graduate and have to go back. WTF does this mean?? I didn't have a particularly traumatic high school experience. The only thing that scarred me was the inability to pass Algebra, which I swear was created by Satan himself. Nothing out of the ordinary happened to make me have this irrational dream. How would this be analyzed? Do I have unfinished business from then? Is there an incomplete algebra test floating around in limbo somewhere that is waiting to have a big fat "F" marked on it? The only regret I have from high school is that I was a huge chicken shit and was too afraid of my mom to do anything that might have gotten me into real trouble. I just can't figure out the meaning behind this.
I hope I learn how to better manage my stress. If it gets worse I might start dreaming about middle school and that was a time that really sucked ass. Let's just hope I can sleep tonight without hearing the fight song in my head and trying to push my way through the halls so I don't get a tardy. :S
In my dream I'm told that I didn't actually graduate from high school.
I know, I know. That is bat shit crazy. I graduated in freakin 1996. I have my diploma(somewhere), a copy of my transcript, pics of me in my cap and gown and all the proof I need to show that I did in fact escape the halls of Bryan Station High School after 4 years. But in this dream the principal shows up at my house IN THE PRESENT DAY and tells me I didn't actually graduate and have to go back. WTF does this mean?? I didn't have a particularly traumatic high school experience. The only thing that scarred me was the inability to pass Algebra, which I swear was created by Satan himself. Nothing out of the ordinary happened to make me have this irrational dream. How would this be analyzed? Do I have unfinished business from then? Is there an incomplete algebra test floating around in limbo somewhere that is waiting to have a big fat "F" marked on it? The only regret I have from high school is that I was a huge chicken shit and was too afraid of my mom to do anything that might have gotten me into real trouble. I just can't figure out the meaning behind this.
I hope I learn how to better manage my stress. If it gets worse I might start dreaming about middle school and that was a time that really sucked ass. Let's just hope I can sleep tonight without hearing the fight song in my head and trying to push my way through the halls so I don't get a tardy. :S
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
It's The Little Things
I don't like to be mushy. I'm not a fan of romantic comedies because of the mush factor (and predictable plots) and I'm not over the top when it comes to PDAs. But I know I've got a good thing going and I feel the need to brag.
To put it simply-Ryan is awesome. He's an awesome husband, best friend, daddy and in general a great person. He has to be or I wouldn't have spent the last 17 years with him! I love him more now than I did then and it all has to do with the little things he does that make me smile.
I posted on my Facebook status today asking if anyone would bring me a caramel frap from Starbucks. I really didn't expect anyone to take me seriously, and the last I'd heard from Ryan he wasn't even working in town. I LOVED it when 20 minutes later I got a text message telling me to come outside and get my frap before it melted. Instantly the goofiest grin ever spread across my face and I ran downstairs. I didn't run to get my drink, I ran because I knew he brought it to me just to make me smile. He always does stuff like that and he always has. These are the things that make our relationship so great. It's the small, insignificant to some, details that mean the most.
He brings me flowers for no reason other than he wants to. The flowers he gave me for our last anniversary wasn't just a bouquet he picked up at the store on his way home. He had it made just for me with my favorites-multicolored daisies and red and white roses in a purple vase. He knows that if I'm sick nothing makes me feel better than a tub of Ben and Jerry's and a trash magazine. This poor man has went with me 6 times to see Billy Currington in concert because he knows how much I love the guy,(but honestly I think he goes to make sure I don't make an ass of myself and try to jump on stage ;) ) . He would never take the last cold Diet Coke out of the fridge, and he has never had a problem buying tampons. He never tells me to shut up when I sing and he has been known to go out of his way to stop by my job to give me a much needed hug when I'm having a craptastic day.
No amount of money, no car, no house, NOTHING, is worth more than that.
To put it simply-Ryan is awesome. He's an awesome husband, best friend, daddy and in general a great person. He has to be or I wouldn't have spent the last 17 years with him! I love him more now than I did then and it all has to do with the little things he does that make me smile.
I posted on my Facebook status today asking if anyone would bring me a caramel frap from Starbucks. I really didn't expect anyone to take me seriously, and the last I'd heard from Ryan he wasn't even working in town. I LOVED it when 20 minutes later I got a text message telling me to come outside and get my frap before it melted. Instantly the goofiest grin ever spread across my face and I ran downstairs. I didn't run to get my drink, I ran because I knew he brought it to me just to make me smile. He always does stuff like that and he always has. These are the things that make our relationship so great. It's the small, insignificant to some, details that mean the most.
He brings me flowers for no reason other than he wants to. The flowers he gave me for our last anniversary wasn't just a bouquet he picked up at the store on his way home. He had it made just for me with my favorites-multicolored daisies and red and white roses in a purple vase. He knows that if I'm sick nothing makes me feel better than a tub of Ben and Jerry's and a trash magazine. This poor man has went with me 6 times to see Billy Currington in concert because he knows how much I love the guy,(but honestly I think he goes to make sure I don't make an ass of myself and try to jump on stage ;) ) . He would never take the last cold Diet Coke out of the fridge, and he has never had a problem buying tampons. He never tells me to shut up when I sing and he has been known to go out of his way to stop by my job to give me a much needed hug when I'm having a craptastic day.
No amount of money, no car, no house, NOTHING, is worth more than that.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
You Can't Pick Your Family
I had a conversation with my youngest sister tonight about family that really got to me. That side of my family(who is family only because we share DNA) can only be described as a clusterfuck. It has taken many years of soul searching, tears, therapy and medication for me to come to terms with it. My heart breaks as I watch baby sis go through the same thing. I know that all families have a certain level of dysfunction. Hell, if you don't then you're not normal, am I right??
Just because you share a family tree with someone doesn't mean you have to like or love them. Hell, there are plenty on that side whose branches I'd like to saw off. Actually I think I'd rather uproot the whole tree and start over, but anyhoo. Some things you just can't change. One thing I can say about them is they have definitely shaped part of who I am. Trust me, they didn't do it on purpose because that would have required effort on their part.
My point is, family is so much more than blood. It's the people who drop everything and run to your side if you call them at 2 a.m, no questions asked. It's the people who love all your quirks and crazy ways and don't judge you for them. Family are the ones who will call you on your bullshit and not be afraid to piss you off because they're doing it because they love you. They're the ones who fill that empty space left from the people who were "supposed" to be there and they fill it so much it overflows. The best families are the ones that are effortless, you know it's meant to be because it's easy. It feels right. If you have to force it, it's not meant to be.
Little sister, I hope this gives you some comfort. After all, you did get a kick ass big sister out of the deal. :)
Just because you share a family tree with someone doesn't mean you have to like or love them. Hell, there are plenty on that side whose branches I'd like to saw off. Actually I think I'd rather uproot the whole tree and start over, but anyhoo. Some things you just can't change. One thing I can say about them is they have definitely shaped part of who I am. Trust me, they didn't do it on purpose because that would have required effort on their part.
My point is, family is so much more than blood. It's the people who drop everything and run to your side if you call them at 2 a.m, no questions asked. It's the people who love all your quirks and crazy ways and don't judge you for them. Family are the ones who will call you on your bullshit and not be afraid to piss you off because they're doing it because they love you. They're the ones who fill that empty space left from the people who were "supposed" to be there and they fill it so much it overflows. The best families are the ones that are effortless, you know it's meant to be because it's easy. It feels right. If you have to force it, it's not meant to be.
Little sister, I hope this gives you some comfort. After all, you did get a kick ass big sister out of the deal. :)
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