Wednesday, September 26, 2012

I could have died today...No seriously. That shit wasn't cool.

Obviously by the title of my post, today was not a great day. I almost died. My life didn't flash before my eyes, I don't know if that means my near death experience wasn't near death enough but it was close enough for me. My mom bought me several cars in high school but my favorite was my 1970 something Ford Gran Torino. Well too many things happened between when I got the vehicle until now so I'm just going to tell you it ended up at some guys shop/house for a bunch of years and now the guy wants it moved. So my mom went there this evening to make sure it started and everything. I went up there with my sister because my mom had the child and we were going to take her to the park. I was helping my mom with the car because it was having issues, so we're messing with it and messing with it and the mechanic's wife came out of their house and she was like STOP STOP FIRE! So I look under the partially opened hood and sure enough less than 10 feet from where I was standing was a huge engine fire. I don't know exactly how long it actually takes for a car to explode once the engine starts on fire, apparently I don't watch nearly enough Nascar, but it must be awhile. First I yelled at my mom to get out of the car then I ran around the other side and yelled at Lacey to get her and Ellie away from the car. Then my mom ran to get the car guy, threw water on it, still on fire, more water, still on fire, more water, still on fire, fire extinguisher, that worked. It was terrifying. So my favorite car is dead but we are all alive. And I smell like gas from all the fumes but I got to see five puppies. So I guess in the end everything works out!

**uPDaTE**
So apparently I am over reacting about almost dying. I think death by flaming car is a pretty legit thing to be traumatized by but my mom and Rob do not think it is that big of a deal. my mom actually said "It wasn't on fire for that long, only like 3 minutes.." IT WASN'T ON FIRE THAT LONG...yeah...ok....and I thought I was supposed to be the crazy one...I'm probably going to have nightmares tonight sooo I'm going to go eat all the ice cream in the house and put myself in a food coma.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Growing Up Badass

If you ask my mom what I was like when I was younger, she will probably tell you I was horrible. Which I was, I was defiant, rude and had no respect for authority. I took a poll on Facebook asking people I went to high school with to give me their honest opinion of what I was like back in the day. Well, out of the like 50 high school classmates have on my friends list only 5 replied (which tells you something right away). The wonderful people who did reply seemed like they were truthful but in a nice way. The consensus seemed to be funny, outgoing, random and didn't care what anyone thought of you.  My best friend, from middle school until present day, had one of the best lines, she said "Also you never worried about be popular, people who liked you liked you BC you were Rachel and anyone who didn't sure was missing out :)" It's true, I didn't care about being popular or fitting in, why? Because I knew I wasn't going to no matter how hard I tried, I'm just too much my own person. I like the things I like, I feel the way I feel and that's that.
The definition of defiance is a daring or bold resistance to authority or to any opposing force. Not to be confused with a non-conformist, those people are just annoying. My choices to go against the grain were not an anarchist approach, mine were more of a personality trait. Along with my sometimes competitive nature, I believe I was defiant just because that was the way I was made. I don't think people should feel like they need to act a certain way, embrace your differences. If I want to wear a crazy outfit to school one day, I will and I did. Now that I am older, I am still all those things only in a neater package. I'm a sophisticated defiant now!
Unfortunately, even though I turned out awesome, many people (like those people I went to high school with) might still see me for the way I was. Which isn't surprising, I tend to leave an impression on people, but the sucky part is people probably take that into consideration when our paths cross. Like with this blog, I have a feeling some people might not read it (or if they do read it they can't enjoy it) because of their opinion of me. Which to that I say, sucks to be you! I'm got-damn hilarious, bitches.                 
**MOVING ON!**

If I could go back in time, I would give myself some advice, here it is!

You are freaking hilarious, don't let anyone stifle that but work on being more appropriate. The only person it is ok to make fun of is yourself. Just because people aren't laughing on the outside, doesn't mean they aren't laughing on the inside. If you're in front of a group and no one's laughing at your joke, just say something completely and ridiculously random and shuffle off to buffalo dance away from the situation.

Always be outgoing, no matter where it takes you in life. It's never bad to want to try things. The day you decide you can't do something is the day you die inside, not let that happen. You really can do anything you want in this life but you're going to have to work for it. No one is going to do it for you, seek out people to help you along the way, ask for their advice and listen to them damnit. You don't know everything! Life isn't fair, you might not be handed the same opportunities as some of your peers but if you want them, go get them.

Respect authority but question it too, not to start trouble but because even though that person is in charge, they might not be right. Eventually you will have a job, several of them over your life, and there are going to be time where someone dumber than you is going to be giving the orders. Deal with it, keep working hard, improving things as you do them and eventually it will pay off. Speak your mind, in a nice way.

Don't ever let anyone push you around but instead of going all fist to cuffs, change their perspective. If that doesn't work.. ARM BAR MOTHER F-ER! Not really, don't be a bully.

Quit being so freaking angry all the time, quit worrying about your weight, believe me, you're going to get a lot fatter. Get better grades, quit talking to your mom the way you do, stay home once in a while and enjoy your family, talk to your great grandma more, once again why are you so angry?! Don't rely on other people to tell you to do the right thing, just do it.

And the last thing I would tell myself is, "Hey look over there!" and proceed to beat the crap out of myself. Because I deserved it.

In closing, my fine feathered friends, the great thing about being a human is we are constantly changing and evolving. I'm not the same person I used to be, I have changed and I've become a better person and I'm going to continue to change until the day I die. Even after I die, I'll keep changing, not into a mess of gooey rotting flesh or dehydrated Rachel corpse. No, I'm getting cremated, I fully intend to rise from the ashes like a majestic Phoenix at my own funeral! It will be awesome, you should totally come! Ok off topic.
It's not fair to judge someone by how they acted 15, 10 even 5 years ago, so much can happen in that amount of time, it's really incredible. So read my blog, laugh at it and treat each encounter with someone from your past as a new beginning. Besides we are all going to die some day, enjoy the short time you have while you're here!

In the words of the great and powerful Urshur.. Peace up, A-town down.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

The Sugar Nazi and the Therapist

OK, this is one of my pet peeves that is slightly controversial, but not really. It's something I notice while at work many, many times. I don't like writing too much about things that occur at work because who knows, someday I might get in trouble but since this is something I have personally dealt with in my home life I felt it was safe. I am not a "real mom", I have a stepson who is almost an adult, dog children and a rabbit child, and a niece who comes over all the time but I am not a true mother to an actual child. I just wanted to clarify that because I know some moms might want to argue with the following. I understand my perspective on a lot of things are going to change once I become an actual mom, but I think this view will stay the same.

Alright, so here is my pet peeve. When I'm at a store or bank or at work or a parade and a child receives a piece of candy, a sucker or a cookie and the parent walks away complaining about the amount of sugar, if it's unhealthy, the portion etc. I say to this parent, instead of complaining how about you grow a pair and take it away from the 30-60 pound kid. Just take it away, explain to the kid you don't want them to have it, or say you'll save it for later and just never give it to them, or tell them if they eat it they will turn into a monster, tell them whatever you want but STOP COMPLAINING. I have seen people walk out of a bank, their kid just got a dum dum sucker...repeat that A DUM DUM SUCKER and heard them tell the kid "Your teeth.." *Ahem let me grab my megaphone here.."YOUR TEETH ARE GOING TO ROT OUT FROM ALLL THAT SUGAR!" First of all, do you not brush your child's teeth? Seriously. Or are you that spaced out that you actually believe a piece of candy or a cookie every once in awhile is literally going to cause your child's teeth to fall out? Or are you just trying to traumatize your child? I have a reoccurring nightmare that all my teeth fall out and it's f-ing terrifying. The last time I went to the dentist he told me I had a couple cavities I needed filled, I went home and bawled, hysterically, Rob wanted to punch me. I felt like my nightmare was coming true and I brush my teeth twice a day and floss (when I remember, at least 2-3 times a week). If I ever, EVER find out that my nightmares are stemmed from a buried memory of my mom telling me my teeth are going to fall out from too much sugar, I think I might egg her house. And T.P. it, and then while she is trying to clean it up I'm going to throw water balloons at her.

Also do you realize that a dum dum sucker has LESS sugar in it than an apple? Google it, it's true. I don't know if it's because I don't have children of my own but I am not afraid to take candy from a child, ask Ellie, if I don't want her to have something, I'll just take it from her. Sure she will cry and scream for a minute, but eventually she will get over it! Now do that over and over again and eventually when you take something away from the kid, it won't bother the little bugger. Or try exposure methods. Earlier this summer, Ellie decided she wanted everything in the store and when she would be told no, she would throw a monster fit. I decided to take matters into my one hands using my own version of exposure therapy; when she starts to throw a fit, I show her pictures of starving children in Africa and tell her "Hey Kid, you aren't going to get everything you want it life, so you gotta be happy with what you have!" She's damn lucky I don't just start singing "You Can't Always Get What You Want" in my Vienna Boys Choir voice when we are in the middle of Walmart and she's crying about getting a tee-shirt for a toy dog she doesn't even have. Well I guess she's only 4 so she probably wouldn't care but the point is, lay down the law!

Possible Responses from cry baby parents: "Well I don't want to cause a scene in the middle of the store or bank or wherever the free treat was acquired when I take their treat away" Ok, then don't! Tell them they have to wait until they get in the car or get home and then let them make a scene there. Or better yet, trust that your kid is going to show you a little respect and be a good listener and get down to business right then and there. When I see a kid throwing a fit at a store, I have way more respect for that parent if they refuse to give in just to pacify the kid. Pavlov's classical conditioning, if dogs catch on that quickly you know your kid is gonna have it down to a science within 3 times of it happening.

Listen, I get it. Noone wants to be the bad guy, except me, but that's just because I'm like really super good at it. That's what parenting is, if it was all fun and games all the time they would call it funandgames-renting or some ridiculous Willy Wonka term. If years down the line you end up in a therapist's office with your child because you took away a sucker from him, you look that little shit right in those beady, angry eyeballs and say "Oh really? I ruined your childhood? Now you know how I felt when you came rip roarin' out of my vagina tearing everything up as you went! Yeah, why don't you ask your father how much he enjoyed my lady parts after that shit went down! We used to get CRAZY before you were born, we did it EVERYWHERE! The kitchen, the bathroom, on that couch in the basement. We got FREAKY SON, DAY AND NIGHT! Not after all that calamity! I still sometimes pee a little when I cough thanks to your big ass head!" Pause for a moment to let that sink in while both child and therapist look at you in horror then follow up with "There! NOW you need therapy. Peace out homies" Get up, leave. Simple and effective!

So obviously I am going to make a wonderful parent, I'll probably end up writing several best selling parenting books and when I do, you all can say you knew me when!

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Where's Rob?

I've noticed I don't have many Rob stories. This isn't because he isn't funny, he's very funny but almost everything that comes out of his mouth is wildly inappropriate. I would probably laugh a lot more if I wasn't so busy yelling at him and asking God to forgive his evil, evil ways. Not a lot of people see that side of Rob, so they automatically assume I'm the embarrassing one in the relationship and he gets all the pity. Wrong, very wrong. I am what I like to call "situational funny", he is "random, offensive funny".
For example, the other day we were at our local crafty store, checking out all the fall decor when I turn around and there Rob is, in the middle of the aisle dragging a 4 foot tall cross around on his shoulder. I don't even know where he found the thing! Then he makes some joke about Jesus. Shame, shame! The blasphemy of it all! Other times the joke is on me, like the time we were watching a marathon of something, Dexter maybe, and the disc ended. Rob looked at the tv, back at me, threw the remote across the room were it landed next to the DVD player and then said "Hey, while you're up getting that remote, put in the next disc will ya?" He is lucky I have a sense of humor.

We recently watched four of the best YouTube videos I have ever seen, search Guy on a buffalo. Better yet, here is the first episode:


*12 Minutes later*

Hahahahaha. Sorry I had to go back and watch them all again. So funny. Anyways Rob and I have been constantly singing the guy on a buffalo chorus with our own custom verses, mine are usually something like "Bella acts like a buffallooo, hey Rolo better watch out cuz that Bella she's crazy, kinda like a buffaloooooooo." So I sing these cute little songs and Rob, in his infinite indecency, is belting out things that I can't repeat but it makes the buffalo sound like he needs to be in prison. So I guess that's Rob's talent, taking something light and funny and turning it into an episode of Criminal Minds/Law and Order: SVU. Awesome.
Rob is also one of the most non-violent people I have ever met but the dude swears like a sailor on crack. One day I will transcribe one of his phone conversations on this blog and I guarantee by the time I am done the K,U, C and F buttons will be broken. Every third or forth word, I swear. People who don't know him probably think he has tourettes. He drops the f bomb like people who constantly use the word "Like" and "Umm" when they talk. I thought maybe he just didn't know he did it until Ellie started hanging out all the time and I realized he could turn it off. I didn't know he could have actual conversations without swearing, it was amazing! I could stop looking for a wedding officiant who would be ok with Rob cussing throughout our vows! Yay!
The other reason Rob only plays a cameo appearance in these posts is because he works allll the time. As I'm writing this, Rob is busy working. He has been at work since 8:00 and will probably get home around 12:00 a.m. Needless to say, this is one of those nights that I have to be extra well behaved, no crazy animal photo shoots or bringing home any large pieces of curb furniture (furniture people threw out to the curb). This is one of the rare nights he can enjoy peace and quiet. And he'd better savor it because my friend Lynsey told me about this sweet new app for my phone called AutoRap, it turns anything you say into a rap, and come tomorrow night I'll be having a solo rap party in the middle of the living room whether he likes it or not.

Gold Chains!

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Insignificant yet life altering traumas

I am not going to lie, now that I have a small audience actually reading my little stories I've gotten a little nervous and have been having a hard time thinking of things to write about. I started to think maybe my life isn't worth sharing, all of a sudden I had a flashback to an incident I call the "Talk block".

Let me elaborate. First some fun facts, I work at a library desk, therefore it doesn't take long for me to recognize and learn people's faces and name, sometimes people are impressed by this skill, others get a little creeped out. I promise I'm not weird, if you come into an establishment once a week for years the people who work there are going to begin to recognize you. Anyways, I have work there for 4 years, so needless to say I have my share of patrons who I am used to interacting with. Well one day I was working at the check out desk when a regular comes up to check out. I was friendly and said Hello! and we began a brief conversation. I won't go into details but it was one of those conversations where you kind of go back forth with personal quips on the same topic. Like "Great weather we're having! I'm hoping to get to the pool sometime!" and the other person is all "I just got back from there, Timmy had fun but he stubbed his toe" and then you say something like "Oh man, I did that the other day! It hurt so bad I punched a hole in a tree" you know, something along those lines.

So we are having this conversation, I'm finishing scanning their books, and they start looking at their cell phone, as I'm telling my stupid little tidbit to prove that "hey we can relate!" Well before I have the chances to finish what I was saying they kind of cut me off by answering their phone (which I never heard ring) grab their books and start walking away and kind of mouth "bye" I realize the screen of the phone is facing outwards. There is no phone call!!! I'm like seriously?! Fake out phone call? I mean who hasn't seen a tv show where someone does the fake phone call and then the phone actually starts to ring? Am I that horribly annoying that you are going to chance getting busted pulling a fake phone call rather than have to spend another second small talking with me?! It really made me question the quality of my small talk, are my stories not relatable? Is my life no longer worthy of sharing? Then I thought to myself OF COURSE my life is worth sharing! Why do I even ask these questions!?! Who in their right mind wouldn't want to listen to my rants and crazy talk?! Pssshhh..not my problem that person was jealous of my sweet library gig and hot body. Haters gonna hate I guess! So after reassuring myself that I was cool enough to blog, I did what any adult would do after getting dissed by a middle aged book lover, and ran to the bathroom to cry. After about 20 minutes, my co-workers started knocking on the door asking if I was OK, I got all flustered and yelled "I'M POOPING!" Long story short, at our next staff meeting we talked about what is and isn't appropriate work talk. Ok I made that part up, girls don't poop.

The moral of the story is: Be nice to people, it won't kill you, and never, ever fake out phone call someone, especially if they have access to your food or library card.