Monday, December 30, 2013

Pissy Point Provers

Everyone has had to prove their point at one time or another. You might get really into it, proving someone wrong, because yes it feels really good to be right. But there is a big difference between the occasional proving someone wrong and the type of person I am about to describe. Long, long ago when I was in high school I encountered a person, a creature so utterly horrible I don't even know what to call it. It was a reality check to the fullest, I'm sure everyone has had a run in with one of these people. It's that person that shows up in your life, that for some reason just HATES you. That know-it-all, mean, cruel person who just HAS to not only prove you wrong but then continues to taunt and ridicule you in front of their audience just to make you seem really stupid. In high school, it was in front of a class, I made some off the cuff comment and suddenly out of no where I hammered into the ground by this guy pointing out how dumb the comment I made was and once I was fully beat down, continued to grind me down and spit on me. At least that's what it felt like. The next time it happened, I was working in a restaurant. Only it wasn't just once, it seemed like I was being constantly berated. I felt like I could never voice my opinion or say anything really without being prepared to be verbally assaulted with reprimands and scoffs. I don't know why this person hated me so much but they did. It would be one thing to point out my mistake but the lengths they would go to make my look like a complete idiot in front of our co-workers was just incredible. Why anyone would do that to person is beyond me, which will make this next sentence ironic. I've done this. I'm sure I have. I've never outright had someone tell me I made them feel the same way I felt when it was happening to me but I probably have. And it's terrible.
Why do we try so hard to be the smart one, the one upper, the better one? Even when we know it hurts others? Why do we feel the need to prove ourselves? Especially in one of these situations. You could just voice your opinion and let it go, be known as a person who contributed and that's that. Or you can rattle off everything you think you know, prove the person wrong in a cruel back and forth of facts and be known as the person who is a total douchbag a-hole.
Maybe you don't realize it until it's too late. I have a horrible habit of hijacking conversations, Facebook statuses, etc. with what I think are hilarious comments. I don't do it on purpose, I just think something is funny so I say it or type it and expect people to comment something funny back. It's like my life is a constant improv. (Yes, and...) I like to have seemingly endless conversations. Why? Because there isn't an awkward silence and the deeper into it you get, the more interesting things come out of it. But sometimes people don't like that, sometimes they just want the story to be about them for once.
In conclusion, it's all about boundaries. Sometimes you have to put others first, just once in awhile. I mean let's not go crazy, if they were THAT interesting why would they need you there to entertain? But really, think about others before you open that big, fat trap. And just give people the damn win!

Later gators.

Monday, December 23, 2013

Coming Soon: New Year's Eve

It's Christmas Eve Eve, which means 8 days until New Year's Eve! Yay! If there is one thing I love to do, it's party. I love being around people, the music, the dancing, the girl puking in the snow (last year was my sister). Ahhh. New Year's Eve! Unfortunately, New Year's Eve can be even more of a reality check then your birthday. It's the time that you realize your age is catching up with you. Maybe you don't necessarily feel old or even look old, but being surrounded by pretty, skinny, young girls and baby-faced, it's starting to get creepy looking at them, young men can really bust your bubble. I mean am I getting to old to be doing this?

For example, this is what I posted on Facebook:

 What is everyone doing for New Year's Eve? Yes, including you. I just want to know, so I can stalk people. I'll either be at da club (aka my garage, dancing by myself bc my mom doesn't let me have friends over) or Photoshopping my face into cool parties or I might pick one person who comments out randomly and follow them around all night taking creepy pictures. So hard to decide! Erg!

What do I get in response? Working, sitting at home, sleeping, blah blah blah...I mean that's fine for them but I'm only 27 25. I want to go out, have a good time, ring in the New Year with some crazy, drunk dancing to "Timber" by Pitbull ft. Ke$ha. Preferably somewhere out of town so no one knows me and I can wear crazy eyeshadow. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FOR?! Last year I went out with my sister and her friends in the "big city". It was amazing and we danced and saw A LOT of interesting things. Some of them are still permanently scarred into my brain. It was awesome! And now I'm going through NYE withdrawals and I am really hoping we have another rocking NYE. If not, well then I give up on being young and I'm going to wear even more cardigans than I wear right now. WHICH IS A LOT.

Well hopefully I'll have at least one super rad picture to share of New Year's Eve.

BYE!

Monday, November 4, 2013

The Chronicles of a Fat Girl's Workout: 5k Edition

I was getting ready to write a new post when I discovered I had never published this little gem! It made me LOL, yes I laugh at myself no biggie, so I had to post it ASAP. Enjoy :)


So after all my bragging on Facebook about my *awesome* super fast 16 minute mile I can run, I found out about a 5k GlowRun that would be taking place about 60 or so miles from us. For some ridiculous reason I thought "I'M GOING TO DO IT!!!!" and started petitioning my younger sister and her roommates to go with. Then I asked my older sister and she talked to her friends and soon enough we had ourselves a little team. Unfortunately my younger sister couldn't get anyone to cover her shift at work. Oh yeah, because when this whole team getting together started it was only 10 or so days before the 5k. We don't need no stinkin' training! Shit I have already jogged 4 times, I know my legs work they just aren't fast. So why did I feel the need to pay $35 to run around crying and whining for 3.1 miles?

1. It's a GlowRun, so it happens at night, in the dark-ishness. It will be harder for people to see the expression on my face, which I've never watched myself in a mirror while I work out but I can't imagine it's attractive.
2. Free t-shirt saying I was in a 5k
3. Finisher's medal
4. Just to do one once in my life
5. There's music and blacklights and glowy stuff
6. It's not timed. The only thing they give awards for is dancing and outfit. If only everything in life was about dancing and costumes, I'd freaking rock it.
7. It will give me the next 5 years of Facebook profile pictures and will give the illusion I actually have a life and don't sit around all weekend talking to my dogs and rabbit.
8. There will be like 11,000+ people there, it will be a lot harder for anyone to narrow down those noises are coming from me. *GASP HUCKKKKKK PFFTTTTTTT WAAAAAA*
9. I can spend the night yelling "GLOW NINJA, GLOW NINJA, GLOW!" publicly displaying my love for Rob VanWinkle and his art without seeming out of place.
10. Because it's in April, it won't get too hot and I won't sweat to death, literally sweat to death.

So the week of the race we were luckily enough to get a shit load of rain and SNOW! Yes freaking snow on April 19th. It didn't last long but it was there. So obviously the weather is not what anyone expected for April, meaning my 5k apparal of a pair of those weird compression capri wourkout pants and the GlowRun provided t-shirt was not exactly warm enough. So I made this bad boy:





Smashing!

So not only was it freaking freezing but I also caught a mad case of allergies two days before which meant I could not breath AT ALL and I got to stuff my sports bra with tissue for my nose that was constantly dripping. I was completely miserable and it was terrible. I honestly thought I would at least be able to jog for awhile then maybe power walk, jog a little more. I could NOT breathe so all the work I did trying to get better at breathing while I jogged, OUT THE WINDOW.

So it took me like an hour to finish the damn thing, I'm miserable, freezing, can't breath, I didn't think about jog testing my pants first and those kept rolling down. But the thing that sucked most of all was..oh shoot I dunno..IT'S THREE MILES. THREE GOD DAMN MILES. That's a long f*cking ways, yo. Then I get home, tired as hell and I go on Facebook and people are like "Yay Glow Run, Yay!" or "So wanna do the Glow Run next year!" Are you kidding me?! Umm..were we at the same event?! Do you understand what a 5K is?! IT'S THREE MILES. Running is not fun, why do you think running away is used in emergency situations? Hey you're getting chased by a bear, run bitch! Not because it's fun but because it is the LAST RESORT to try to save your life. Honestly even if I was feeling on top of my game, I don't know if I would ever do another 5K because seriously, it's three miles. Yeah I know some people run that (or more) every day but I just can't handle it. So kudos to you, crazy running bastards. I'll save all my running for you. YOU'RE WELCOME.

Peace up, A town down.

Monday, October 28, 2013

Whhere Have You Been...all myy liiiiii-eee-iifeee

I haven't posted anything for awhile. The burning question here is "Where the hell have I been?!" Answer: Mostly Facebook stalking people, I dabbled in drinking on the weekends for a few weeks straight and I have definitely not been working out. I'm using this post to break free of this vicious cycle I have been in, every time I think about the fact I have not been posting on my blog I get depressed, then I don't feel like blogging, then I get depressed that I haven't blogged, so on and so forth. I have been reading lately. The perks of working at a library, advanced reader copies, and once a month I turn in an article for a local-ish publication. I do have like 3 or 4 good posts I haven't "published" on here because I get really working on them one day and then forget about it for awhile and by the time I come back I have to change all the wording to past tense because I don't wanna lie to you, 18 people who actually read the things I post, and also because some of the post is no longer relevant. So here are some of the things I learned in the last month or two:

#1 Tailgates aren't that fun. I thought it would be super fun to go tailgate for the big Iowa/Iowa State game but I soon found out that unless you are down with getting really drunk in the day time, tailgating is not for you. There were also a lot of douchey people and rich people. No offense. Not my scene, I'm more of a Honey Boo-Boo type person, minus having my own TV show and add that I have a job I have to act halfway decent while in public to keep. I'm basically reformed white trash, I can hang with the cool kids Monday thru Friday 8:30 to 5:30 but after that I'm just a hot mess. I did meet a couple cool people but then I was forced to experience the wrath of some super bitchy young 20-somethings and I was all "Look at me again, I'll cut you..I've been to prison." Ok I haven't been to prison but I've watched a lot of prison shows and I've driven past one before. I also walked from the tailgate site up to the stadium, full with intention of trying to sneak it because I didn't have tickets. That did not work out for me, I almost got tased by a National Guard guy. And then I got hit on by this college kid, who was so young he didn't realize this ring meant married. Or maybe he did either way, this segues into.....

#2 I am cute and young looking enough to get hit on by a college kid but chubby enough I must have seemed approachable. And to be completely honest, he wasn't anything to look at. It was very awkward for all parties involved. Especially because I just walked away mid-conversation:
Kid-"So ummm...there is this big party going on later,  if you and your friends want to go......"
Me- pause...."That's cool" pause..... *walk away*
Good thing I met husband because the older I get, the more awkward and socially inept I am becoming.

#3 No one wants to buy my crap. I helped my friend with her garage sale, took some stuff over and only made $16. From now on I am going to start marketing my crap as belonging to famous people. "This wire media shelf was once used by Tom Cruise to hold all his L.Ron Hubbard DVDs!"

#4 It doesn't take much to irritate me anymore. There have been several times I have wanted to walk out of work in the last month or so. I also am beginning to have a immense dislike for high school and college students. They are such know it alls who think they are the only ones who understand what is going on in the world. BAH. I think I realize I am getting old. I can't wait for them to find out what the real world is like. Someday they will have to swallow their pride work for bitter, old people like myself. And the world will be right again...yesss.

#5 Snapchat is a dangerous, dangerous social media. Everything starts off nice and cute, then you get a little bored, start sending funny drawings and pretty soon you find yourself taking pictures of things that are completely inappropriate and somewhat appalling. Thankfully for my friends, I have yet to send any of these and I somehow manage a little self control. Snapchats also require the use of my forward facing camera, or as I like to call it the most unflattering view finder EVER. I am no fancy phone photographer, I don't really know how to hold the camera, so most of my pics look like blurry zombies....Please, no screenshots.

So that's a tiny bit of what I have been up to. Hopefully I can start writing more on here. That would be cool.
Byyyeeeeeeeee.



Monday, July 8, 2013

What I learned on my 27th Birthday...

Holy crap. I have officially reached a new low in the blogging world. Not only am I totally slacking in posted ANYTHING but I also completely blew off posting anything for my poor neglected bloggy's birthday! Yes my little blog is now a one year old and this past weekend I celebrated a birthday of my own. Whoop! It was my 27th birthday and at first I was not too pumped about it about. 27 isn't a cool number like 21 or 25 or even 30 but I found out that every experience can be a learning experience so here is what I learned on my 27th birthday:

1. Husband knows best. One birthday gift I asked for this year was throwing knives, why? Because throwing knives sound awesome. The Husband is a genius because not only did he prevent anyone from buying me throwing knives but he also gave me some super awesome gifts that I liked WAY MORE than throwing knives. How in the hell do you make someone happier by NOT getting them something they asked for?! He is brilliant, I'm telling ya. Luckily I was able to convince my sister to buy them off Amazon for me so be watching the paper for my upcoming throwing knife accident.

2. I look like a bitch. I always thought to look like a bitch you had to be really pretty and fit looking but after being accosted by an angry lesbian while out celebrating my birthday who felt the need to tell me I was a bitch every 3 minutes when I was literally doing NOTHING, I learned that hey anyone can be a bitch, even if they aren't trying! In case you are wondering why I point out or how I knew she was a lesbian, my first clue was her appearance. Now I don't usually judge people by what they look like so I had to rely on other factors, like her telling me what I could do to her anytime, before coming to the conclusion that she might like girls. Which is fine by me. Just don't tell me how cute I am followed by an insult. That shit's rude.

3. My mom has to be reminded several times my birthday is approaching but will still forget to call me on my actual birthday. Geezzz. You will also be told you need to have a baby, by everyone.

4. Birthday cake flavored vodka does NOT taste like birthday cake.

5. If you lose $22 dollars on your birthday, you will find it again. Especially if you are at a super uncrowded bar and it fell out on the floor of the scary, basement dungeon of a bathroom no one wants to go in. 

6. When you turn 27 years old, you realize that having your friends, family and a bunch of wild kids at your house, playing in the pool, grilling out and eating cake, trumps going out to the bars as a birthday celebration. I'm not saying this is the last year I will be going out for my birthday but from now on I can safely say, "I'm getting to old for this".

So that's it. All the knowledge I can think of the bestow on you at this time.  I'll try not to be such a bad friend and keep up better on posting. kloveyou.bye!

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Old People Know What They're Doing...

As I grow older, I find myself becoming more content with the things I have. Like the other day, I went to get a new phone. Not that I wanted a new phone but I was eligible for a new one and my phone was getting a little old and sure it didn't work half the time but I liked my phone. I didn't mind that it would freeze up or take forever to do stuff. I also don't really NEED anything, I used to constantly NEED things, random things that I really didn't need but I NEEEDDDDD ITTTTT. (With the except of the megaphone I saw the other day in a Kohl's....I do actually need that if someone could please get it for me.)


But besides the megaphone, I don't really NEED things like I used to. So as I sit and think about growing older, I find myself observing all the other things I can expect to happen as I age. Yes, I know I'm still kind of young and have a way to go before I'm actually an elderly person but the more I see, the more excited I am getting. So I've complied this list of awesome things I get to do when I'm old:

1. Act like the rules don't apply to me. Screw your rules, I'm old. I've been following rules too damn long, I do what I want!! Traffic laws, screw you, I'll drive in ALL the lanes muther fluckers! Parking spot lines, I'm done with your stupid yellow lines, I'll park where I want! Unspoken rules of common courtesy,  fu-get-about-it! I've been holding in my farts for years, I'll fart in public if I want! Crop dustin' beotchs.

2.Be super sweet or be a total asshole, maybe at the same time. This happens all the time. Some old lady will be really nice and as soon as you do or say something they don't agree with BAM. You're suddenly ruining people's lives and they "hope you're happy with yourself".

3. Discounts for being old. What can I say, I'm a cheap ass.

4. Super easy to dress. You can just buy a bunch of those sweatpant/sweatshirt sets. Or a couple zip front house dresses. And spandex waisted pants. And comfortable, velcro orthopedic footwear. Dis is da life...

5. No more work. You don't have to work anymore! You can spend your days doing whatever you want, like watching TV all day and you don't have to feel bad about it.

6. You get to wear full coverage underwear with no shame. Grannie Panties 4 Lyfe.

As you can see, there is a ton of cool shit you get to do once you're old. I don't know why people get so turned off by it. I've just realized that morbidly obese hill folk also reap the above stated benefits, with the exception of number three. And morbid obesity might be easier to achieve....hmmm...well that settles it. I'm off to KFC for a 12 piece family meal and google me some West Virgina real estate. Spandex, here I come!

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Facebook Reposts- Rachel: A Memoir

I was browsing my own Facebook profile today when I found a "note" that I had posted back in 2009 that made me laugh. Automatic blog post? I think so! Reading it over I realize I was kind of a little bitch. For the record it's NOT ok to make fun of people because you think they are weird. I clearly wrote this before I realized I am weird myself. I could have re-wrote it and taken out the parts that I thought I was being too mean but I was who I was and editing it now doesn't change that fact. Please enjoy:

Haha.. this is a great example of who I am..


SO .. today I was going through all my crafting supplies, paper, etc and I hidden in a file folder I found a little something that is just an perfect example of me. What I found was a couple notes I just have to share with the world. I used to work at this place with a man named Phil, maybe in his 40's (?), and a gal named Julie, late 40's early 50's (?)..Some how , some way I started this thing at work where I would write funny little love notes to Phil everyday I worked, also involved in this love triangle was a guy, a guy who came in all the time, was just a little stinky, or very stinky, pretty fat, very unattractive,wore this great looking gold gym shorts and also had no idea how much we made fun of him, which looking back, I can see why we did, he was so weird.. (haha being cruel is another word for being honest).. we will call him.. *Tom* (name has been changed to protect the innocent)

Now for an exert from the book of Rachel:A Memoir: the High School Senior Year Edition
I will begin with a responsive note from phil to me:

Rachel,
Thanks for the rest of the candy. I can't believe *Tom* parted with food and gave it away. I know the REAL reason you gave me the rest of the candy. You miss me and want me back don't you! I know *Tom* is more of a man than I am ( about 140 lbs) more probably, but if he is willing to give you up, I'll take you back. I'm the biggest catch since Moby Dick so don't let this chance get away. Forever yours, Phil.. P.S. The box is empty, but my heart isn't! (Note: this was stuck on the top of an empty chocolate box.

My response to Phil:

Phil-
I've noticed *tom* hasn't been up to visit lately and when I saw him ringing bells outside of the mall he didn't say a word to me. Is this another one of your cheap shots to break up our once beautiful relationship? I tried to get a hold of him to ask if he would join me for my family Christmas. He won't return my calls so I am not returning his gold gym shorts. Something smells fishy here Phil, and its not his BO. These childish games have to stop. I love you Phil, but I'm not IN LOVE with you. You have to understand... what I need right now is a friend...be that friend Phil, be that friend.
Your FRIEND,
Rachel

Now a note I found at work another day.. from..well lets find out...

Phillip,
Owner and wife are in Missouri. Wife said she can't be here to keep an eye on you so you're not to get married or get in trouble until they get back!!!
Owner Said if it snows you can use the vehicle to clear the driveway. HA HA! Or you can call #### #####. #### said he would plow but if he forgets you should call him at home.
Also - I talked to Rachel about working tonight (Saturday) if I can't make the long journey in from ######. She said she would. I'll try my hardest just so I can see you and brush up against you! Oh how I miss you! I sure hope Rachel doesn't see this and get jealous. She might hurt me.. (heart drawn) Julie


My response on the note from Julie for Phil,,
Phill! How dare you!! I can't believe you and Julie! Right in front of me too! I was so blinded by love I didn't even notice what was going on! I was stupid to think I could get you to settle down. Once a bachelor, always a bachelor. I thought you wanted to be with me.. Me me me me me me me me! NOT JULIE! So what if she's always on time and her gas balances most of the time.. I try! Doesn't that count for anything?! All I can say is thanks.. Thanks for showing me there are no more good men left in this world. I just hope everything works out for you two. I'm not going to try anymore. I guess I'm meant to be alone. (sad face) Rachel

So that's all I have to share for today.. hopefully someday me and my love will meet again.. maybe I'll drop off a note and some flowers to him soon.. I wonder if that will finally put my heart at peace, or only bring back the feelings we both had for each other.. I guess we will all just have to wait until the next chapter in .....
*dramatic music*
Rachel: A Memoir

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Creepity-Creep, Don't Stalk Back...

Lately something has really been bugging me. If you've ever had a blog, you might have seen under the statistics, a list of referring URLS or the websites from which people have accessed your blog. Most of the hits come from places like Google, Yahoo or Facebook but once in awhile really weird ones show up. When I first noticed these weird URLs I did the smart, internet savvy thing and Googled the address, instead of just clicking it. Turns out many of them are these creepy porn or other sketchy sites, it's a way of spamming people. You see a weird referring URL, click on it to see what it is, next thing you know your work computer screen is filled with naked lady parts and viruses. Even though I have read it is all done by an automated computer program thing, it still really creeps me out and makes me feel like there is some beard-o in a tiny hut somewhere in the Russian wilderness lurking around my blog. This new found paranoia is giving me a new perspective and my mind cannot be at easy until I go through and change some of the content I have posted to make me feel, safer I guess. Though this thought has been in the back of my mind since I first noticed it happening, the influx of these "visits" to my blog have me really on edge.

Ironically enough, this morning while I was cutting a billion bookmarks on the paper cutter at work, I had the following plot running through my head. People often leave their cell phones in public places, at work when we find these cell phones and usually look through them, just to find a home number or the number of a person we think would be with the owner so we can let them know their phone is safe and sound whenever they are able to come back and get it. Last night I joked with one of my co-workers and said if she ever saw my phone laying around, definitely look through it because I have a lot of weird stuff in there. So back to this morning, I'm cutting bookmarks and this is what pops into my head.
"Haha. I should get a notebook and pick out one of my co-workers to document everything about them everyday for like 6 months. Like what they are wearing, the things they said, make it really stalker-y and then "accidentally" drop it near them someday and when they look through it they'll be like "WTF?! WTF?! SHE'S CRAZY!!" And then I was like "OMG I should do it for everyone! It would be so funny when they found it!! Their reactions!!"

OK. Saying that out loud makes it sound super, super insane but in my eyes, knowing the sense of humor I have, it seemed really hilarious to me at the time. Now I am beginning to think that is the kind of shit I should never tell anyone because that would seriously get me locked up in a quick minute. But it made me think, how can I sit here and be so judgmental towards people I don't know, labeling them when I know what kind of crazy goes through my head everyday and I am clearly not a danger to society in anyway. Oh yeah, because they scare me. :D

I'm a special kind of nuts. Sure I have alter-egos but their existence is completely in my conscious, I am aware of them because they are just parts of my personality. And sure I've assigned them names and back stories, and they have sweet outfits. Maybe my super human, genius brain thought it was a good idea to split and personify my different ranges of emotions and personality characteristics as to make it more effortless to control my feelings. By giving myself the ability to regulate my emotions as one would say an unruly child, it leaves the majority of my brain to focus on important things such as relativity theories and dressing rabbits in hats. Maybe they are just characters I play, for all the world is a stage. Or maybe they are actually all my secret imaginary friends that also happen to be imaginary ghosts that sometimes possess my body. (*leans in and whispers* It's that one..*devious smile*)

SO! In conclusion, I'm still creeped out by all the weird phantom views of my blog, even if it's not a person, I'm going to go through and make sure I don't have anything on here I don't want Vlad and his tundra goat gawking at.

Until next time, loveyoubye!

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

The Chronicles of a Fat Girl's Workout

It has finally started getting nice out again and thus begins the always entertaining "lying to myself" game. The "lying to myself" game is what I call the thing when I am driving to work and I think to myself "Maaaannnn. It is so nice out. I wish I didn't have to work today so I could _________________." Fill in the blank with clean up the yard, go for a walk, spring clean the house or any other activity that would non-lazy people do, probably on days that they do work. Then once I get to work, I'm all angry and like "Damn you work! If it tweren't (yes tweren't) if it tweren't for you I would be being so productive today! I would be like producting the shit outta shit today! Stupid work, making me all fat and slobby." There is also a "lying to myself" three-day weekend edition. That's when I take a Friday off and walk around work on Thursday talking about how much I am going to get done this weekend. "Oh Rachel I see you are off Friday! Big weekend plans?" "Oh not really, I just really want to get my house picked up and go through the closets. Open some windows and air my house out." Whether it be the everyday or the weekend edition, whenever I do take a day off or get a long weekend you can bet I will be doing NONE of those things. Nope, 99.7% of the time my ass will be firmly planted in bed for as long as possible, get up, check facebook, eat, watch TV, eat, maybe do laundry if I have absolutely nothing to wear and at most I'll load the dishwasher. All that other "cleaning, organizing and activity" is complete bullshit. Stop lying to yourself Ray-Ray, you are a lazy bitch and errrbody knows it.

Yes I am! BUT I have created a fool proof plan to motivate me to be un-lazy. Well not so much the cleaning part but the exercising part, I have planned a plan. Here it is. Before I can get pregnant I need to reach my goal pre-pregnancy weight. I tell people it's because I want to prevent any serious weight related health issues but the truth is my friend gave me a bunch of maternity clothes that I can't even fit into now and I need to drop some L-Bs so I don't have to buy a bunch of new stuff, I'm not made of money, I can't afford to pay not only extra dollas for plus size clothes but then add more onto that for plus size maternity clothes. That shit cray. If I plan this right I can not only fit into her old maternity clothes but also wear the clothes I wear now as maternity clothes too. Shameful? Perhaps but I don't care. If someone is spending that much time paying attention to my business that they know I am using my fat clothes as maternity clothes, then they need to get a life of their own or I need to press some kind of stalker charges on them, creepers.

So I tired doing the diet thing and that just made me angry, I am still watching my carb intake, watching being the keyword. I am aware of the ridiculous amount of carbs I am inhaling, which isn't Step One always like admitting you have a problem or realization of some kind or another? See, so I'm doing good! I'm making step one my bitch. So I'm watching my diet and I decided the other day, after watching my sister doing her workout, that I also need to be more active. Thus I fat girl ran, which is closest to a senior citizen's mall walk pace only wayyyy more bouncing going on, I f.g. ran all the way from mi casa to mi sister's casa, 1.23 miles. There I collapsed in her living room and marinated in my own sweat until I could find someone to drive me back to my house. I posted it on Facebook so I could fish for some compliments, which I did receive along with this piece of advice "Tomorrow will be easier! Don't quit" At that point I was like "TOMORROW?! WHAT THE HELL DOES SHE MEAN BY TOMORROW?!" Apparently you have to do this more than once?! Damn. So once I recovered, which was literally 7 days later, I f.g. ran for a second time. This time it was on the treadmill in our basement, and this time it was in my "BRAND NEW RUNNNIINNNGGG SHOOESS!!!! *Oprah giveaway voice* This time was a little bit harder but I made good what I was able to out of a bad situation and focused on my breathing. In, out, In, out, dry heave, in, out. I did notice a big change with that, it was more comfortable to f.g. run if I wasn't huffing and puffing the whole time and I was able to keep my pace up for almost the entire mile. I didn't have to stop and walk nearly as often, which also probably had something to do with my fear of halting on the treadmill and slamming my face into the deck of it. Also I was too tired to raise my arm to hit the "-" button to slow the damn thing down some. I finished a mile and managed to climb our steep ass basement stairs, obviously the house was originally built for a family of mountain goats because it is seriously a workout in itself to scale those bad boys any time. You ever wonder why my jeans look dirty, it's because just doing laundry practically requires endurance training at our house.

I wrote down my mile time so I could google it, not realizing that would actually make me feel worse than the physical part of this whole ordeal. 16:08. Google told me that is like the time a regular person gets when WALKING A MILE. DAMN IT!!! Well at least I got off my butt and did something. And I now had a goal for myself, the next time I would be a little faster and someday I would be able to take pride in my mile time. So 6 days later, I got back on and tried again.

FAIL. I was actually slower, 2 seconds slower. I don't even know how it was possibly. I mean I jogged the ENTIRE F-ING TIME. I seriously think my lung almost collapsed and I had a code red foot cramp afterwards. Regardless I'm going to try it again tonight, I guess. I'm not super pumped and I'm not overly confident in my abilities at all but I have nothing better to do, except for the dishes which sounds equally as torturous. I will go with the physical pain over the mental anguish of loading the dishwasher. And with that I realize how lazy I truly am.

KLoveyoubye.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Things not to do on April Fool's Day..Super short post!

Heeyyyyy guuuyss. I miss you! I haven't posted for awhile but I wanted to give you a little somethin' , somethin'. I'll get another one up soon :D

So in honor of April Fool's Day, I spent a chunk of the day asking two of my co-workers what they thought of my terrible, terrible April Fool's Day prank ideas. Here is some of that list and some of the things they added.

1.We should close early tonight and when the director calls to bitch us out for closing without permission we can be like APRIL FOOLS!!!

2.Get 100+ signs to post in front of the library and in the morning when the boss people get to work...APRIL FOOLS!

3.Put a For Sale/For Lease sign in front of the library...APRIL FOOLS!

4. Pull the fire alarm..APRIL FOOLS!!!

5. Light a book on fire... APRIL FOOLS!!!

Sure, not many of these are appropriate April Fool's Day jokes BUT who am I to judge these pranks?! Who's to say that these terrible ideas can't someday be appreciated for the foolishness that they are? And yes, maybe #5 is considered arson but isn't the whole point of April Fools Day to be an asshole? Play jokes on innocent, unsuspecting family members, co-workers and school mates? Who did nothing to you?! To make them feel like idiots for no reason!? At least its not toothpaste Oreos, that shit is f-ed up!

That being said Rob just walked in the house with two plates on top of each other and said "I brought you cookies!" and I now need to interrogate him as to the origins of said cookies. If you never hear from me again, he poisoned me. TRUST NO ONE!

Love you. bye!

Thursday, March 7, 2013

TV, Cultivation Theory and Contingency Plans

First of all, subscribe to my blog. If you got here from facebook, I don't think it always shows the things I post so if you want to be cool and in my clique and know when there is new shit!

Secondly, I f'ing LOVE my husband. He is seriously my best friend. I'm not going to sit here and act like we don't have our issues, just ask the cell phone size hole in the living room wall, BUT most of the (little) time we get to spend together is pretty awesome. I give a lot of the credit to him, he has a great sense of humor, is very caring and is able to handle all my shit talking. There are two things we really enjoying doing together, both of which take up the majority of our free time. #1. Doing voice overs for our dogs and telling the stories of their little lives #2. Watching TV...lots of TV. If you are a normal person, there is a chance you watch TV without much conversation. Not the case here, we are constantly talking back to the TV with colorful commentary. "RAYLAN GIVENS YOU ARE ONE BADASS MOTHER F*CKER!!"

Mr. TV is always on in our house, right now there is a basketball game on. I'm not watching it and I really don't care about it at all but sometimes you're watching something on the DVR, it ends, you get distracted and you find yourself watching some crazy ass show you didn't mean too. I also recently began looking through the high numbered channels that we don't ever watch. Right between the financial crap and the Spanish channels I found a show called "Estate Jewelry with Sam." It is quickly becoming a favorite of mine. It's like a home shopping show, people call in and tell the operator what piece of jewelry they want to know about, they tell Sam and Sam talks about it. The ticket price is always high and then Sam taps on his little off screen calculator and makes them a heck of a deal. What really sold it to me was when Sam gets pissed at people for being cheap or not buying stuff and starts talking shit about them. It's awesome! So I was watching it one night when Rob was at work and when he got home I changed the channel. I kept thinking about it so when we were done watching our shows I told him I HAD to show him something. He didn't really care I was turning on a jewelry shopping show because I am the best wife in the world (his words) and we have two TVs in the living room, one for video games, one for TV watching. So he is playing NCAA '13 and I've got the show on. Within 20 minutes he has stopped playing his game and is freaking out, yelling "BULLSHIT! THAT TOURMALINE BRACELET ISN'T WORTH $250,000!!" and I'm like "ROB.......... IT HAS DIAMONDS IN IT". Rob was super pissed at Sam, saying he is a rip off artist and it almost ended our marriage.

We also play the game What's Sam Eating? because apparently Sam thinks he can eat while doing his TV show. So far we know it has a papery wrapper, not super loud cellophane wrapper and whatever it is pops slightly when he first takes a bite but after than it's not a super loud chewing noise.
Unfortunately, I found out over the weekend Sam is just a vendor so he isn't on regularly scheduled programming so who knows when he'll be on again. So upset right now, I might need to puke.

TV can do some serious shit to your brain. It can make you think you can do things you really can't , or at least shouldn't. It can also affect your mood, your actions and every once in a while BLOW YOUR F'ING MIND!!! Maybe it doesn't happen to everyone but in this household TV influences much of our lives. I am not an avid watcher of American Idol but when it's on, I think I'm allowed to sing. Rob watches Amish Mafia, thinks he can go take over the Amana Colonies. I watch RuPaul's Drag Race, decide I want to be a drag queen someday. Watch DIY network, we think we can remodel shit. Watch HGTV's Renovation Realities, realize that we can't remodel shit. Sons of Anarchy, start a biker gang. I've even made the comment "making moonshine doesn't look that hard.....I mean we got a shed..." Thank God I'm not a Breaking Bad fan....

Now I'm not saying that if a kid plays a video game it'll make them violent and commit heinous crimes, obviously that kid had something f'ed up before he started playing. But the fact of the matter is I've definitely considered stealing cars and beating up prostitutes after a three day Grand Theft Auto game-a-thon. Maybe I'm just that impressionable. And maybe I'm about to drop some mutha flunkin' knowledge on your asses...

Not surprisingly, research has and will continue to be done on the influence of television and video games on peeps. Like you and me, not the little marshmallow chicks of goodness. Cultivation theory is a social theory that examines the effects television has on the people who watch it (a lot) and their perception of life and all things lifey. When I first started edjujucating myself on this theory I was like "This shit is wack, yo." Not just because I had been watching every "Friday" movie ever made but because I thought it is ridiculous and offensive to imply that just because a person happens to watch a unhealthy amount of television, like myself, they are unable to distinguish what is real and what is not, good decisions and bad. But then I kept reading and I came across this gem:

Positive correlation between TV viewing and fear of criminal victimization.
"In most of the surveys Gerbner conducted, the results reveal a small but statistically significant relationship between TV consumption and fear about becoming the victim of a crime. The question at the start of the chapter is illustrative: Those with light viewing habits predict their weekly odds of being a victim are 1 out of 100; those with heavy viewing habits fear the risk 1 out of 10. Actual crime statistics indicate that 1 out of 10,000 is more realistic." Griffin, E. (2012). Communication Communication Communication. McGraw-Hill: New York, (8), 366-377.

Awwwwwwee sheeeeitttt. The reason I found this concerning is because like I said in my post about my jacked up blinker, I am terrified of being murdered. I'm not going to lie, most recently I have encountered an individual, not going to say where but I think you know (it's my workies), who I am pretty sure could possibly turn out to be a serial killer. So on Saturday, when Rob and I went out to eat, we had a discussion and I voiced my concerns to him. I insisted we come up with some sort of contingency plan in the event of a dual kidnapping. Rob's answer was he would do something and I am supposed to run like hell. My answer was sewing tiny pockets inside the back of my pants for a pocket knife to live, conveniently located for when my hands are bound together behind my back. Also we should always keep a specific color of beads in our pockets to leave a Hansel & Gretel style trail for our rescuers to follow. But then Rob made a good point, if we are both kidnapped then who would come looking for us? Thus the dog/rabbit case cracking trio training began! But more realistically, if you ever come across a shit load of beads in a pile on the ground followed by a trail of blood, you'll know I've been kidnapped and my plan took a terrible turn. In the case of that happening, follow the trail of blood, then the trail of urine. One of my plans is to go straight incontinent, limp ragdoll on my captor's ass. Good luck trying to carry a bunch of dead, stinky weight around tough guy. Oh, all of a sudden you're rethinking your life choices? Huh, weird. I would seriously be like the worst kidnapee ever. Whoever stole me would probably drop me back off and immediately drive to the nearest church to find Jesus.

I've thought this through. If/when I get kidnapped it won't be for a ransom, my family doesn't have that kind of money. They could maybe flip a couple coupons their way and we have a few bags of empty cans laying around but that's about it. So that leaves sex crimes and just torture/murder motive. As far so the sex crimes go, I'm not saying I'm gross or anything but take into consideration the following:
1. I'm married, I'm not trying to impress anyone anymore. Pickin' up what I'm, puttin' down? No? How about: I don't shave my legs when I want to, I shave them when I NEED to. Like when it becomes offensive....mull that over, you'll understand eventually.
2. My diet, not that great. Not in terms of my physical being but it the terms that the imminent danger of sharting is frequent in my life. Not a week goes by that we'll be sitting on the couch, me sneakily glancing at Rob out of the corner of my eye, hiss laughing (like Ernie from the Street) followed by an "UH-OH" and a run of shame to the bathroom.
3. I have a plan and it's not learning sweet ju jitsu moves, it's doing whatever I need to do to get in the position to rack someone straight in the junk. And not just one time, as many times as possible until the bad guy falls to the ground. And then I don't plan on running away to call the cops or to escape, I would beat the guy to death. Not only because I have no empathy of scary murder rapists but also so I could use any number of awesome one-liners I've come up with as well. Like if I was in a basement, I'd be all "Good thing we're already six feet under", in a grocery store "Looks like your expiration date is today...", train "Next stop, Death Valley", post office "Return To Sender", hospital "Time of death...now", carnival "Must be this tall...to die", sleazy hotel "Looks like it's time for you to check out", massage parlor "No happy ending for you, scumbag", airport "You have reached your final destination", bakery "Death by chocolate (as in proximity)". See, I got mad one liner skills.

Kidnapped for Torture/murder: This one is a little trickier but luckily I'm suuuuuuuper annoying so I don't think anyone choose to keep me around longer than they needed to and that is if they could kidnap me in the first place. It's a catch 22, if I'm not drugged I'd be throwing a raging cow fit, if I am drugged I'll be hard to move without calling attention to the act, because it would take some serious hoist or dolly action. #fatgirlperks!

Well now I've gotten myself all paranoid by thinking someone is going to read this and then, to prove me wrong, they are going to actually kidnap and murder me.... To this person I say: I wasn't talking about you, you could TOTALLY kidnap and murder me. I was talking about someone else, much weaker than you, do not feel the need to prove anything to me! I am not doubting your abilities. Alrighty then I'm going to go play my video game. Until we meet again. Byeeeeee.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Car Issues and Booty Poppin'

So I am having some wiring issues with my vehicle, the most prevalent problem being I have no rear right turn signal. Which is a big deal to me because I make 3 right turns on my way to work and 3 right turns on the way home and I merge a couple times too. And I feel like a complete asshole for not being able to signal when I'm turning. I haven't had time to take it in to the shop and I don't really want to because I'm pretty sure I have an idea what the problem is and how to fix it but the bulb socket I need is like $50 and has to be special ordered. And I'm a cheap beotch. But it is seriously affecting (effecting? I AIN'T GOT TIME FOR GRAMMER) my mental health, I feel TERRIBLE not giving my fellow automobile operators a warning of my upcoming turn. Out of all the driving whatevers, no turn signal gets to me. Unless I'm in a bad mood then everything gets to me but on just a normal, driving to the store day, I'm pretty relaxed. Unless someone busts a turn with no signal.

Reaction list:

Slow driver, because they are old or super cautious: Cool, more time to get where I'm going, more time to SIINNGGG!!!

Slow driver because their car is a P.O.S : GO LITTLE CAR, GO! I BELIEVE IN YOUUU!!

Tailgater: I don't really look in the rear view mirror so I don't notice if someone is following me too closely

Not knowing when to go at a 4-way stop:Yeah. That's usually me sooo....

Letting people out of a parking lot: This has a specific protocol to it, if you don't know it or don't abide by it you're a freaking idiot but I ain't mad at cha.

Pulling out in front of me like a bat out of hell: Woah woah WOAH! They must really have to poop.

Cell phone while driving: Look at this bitch texting, she is going to kill herself or somebody else. I'm getting on Facebook right now to talk shit about her.

Not moving when a light turns green/waiting for the stop light to turn green: It's cool, I've done that before. Life is full of distractions. No biggie.

People giving me dirty looks or calling me names because I did something wrong and I know I did something wrong : *Make the My Bad! face. Timid Wave* SORRY, SORRY, SORRY!!!!

People not using their turn signals, including the driver of the car I'm in : REALLY?! REALLY?!!? IT'S CALLED A BLINKER MOTHER F*CKER! ARE YOU THAT LAZY AND STUPID YOU CAN'T PUSH THE LITTLE LEVER NEXT TO YOUR STEERING WHEEL UP OR DOWN??? I'M WRITING DOWN YOUR PLATE NUMBER, I'M FINDING OUT WHERE YOU LIVE, I'M GOING COME OVER THERE AND BREAK ALL YOUR FINGERS THEN YOU REALLY WON'T BE ABLE TO SIGNAL. YOU ARE FREAKING RUDE AND I FREAKING HATE YOU!!!!!!!

So you can see why I'm concerned for my well being.There are A  LOT of crazy people in this world. I'm terrified for my life the next time I turn right without my blinker the person in the car behind me will be so pissed they'll follow me home and murder me. Ok, honestly I think everyone is going to murder me. Apparently I watch too many crime shows because I am convinced I'm going to wake up one night and someone is going to be standing over me and then murder me.

Speaking of crazy, at about 9:30 this morning my axis must have shifted or something because I started to feel weird. And then around 2:00 this afternoon, it tilted some more and now I feel realllllyyy weird. Like I should be creepin' around on my tip toes in the shadows. I can't tell if it's paranoia or I'm just really hungry or a small brain tumor that suddenly appeared or too much window cleaner (Reason #132 why cleaning sucks) but whatever it is I am NOT feeling it. And I swear everything looks darker? I did have a lot of busy work to get done today, busy work in my world means cutting out shapes of black paper, punch holes in foam shamrocks and squares of scrapbook paper, so maybe my eyeballs are over worked from focusing on not chopping my hands off. And actually I know what is making me paranoid but it's really stupid so I'm going to pretend I don't know what's going on. And now typing all that out made me, and probably you, feel even weirder. This moment, right here, you and me, padded room realness homies. Also I ate cereal for lunch so maybe that's why I'm all off kilter. Random but it needed said.

IN CLOSINNNNGG...I'm risking my life to drive over to my sister's now because apparently there is some workout called the butt bible I need to try? That sentence right there is clear indication of sexy (or not so sexy) butt pics to come. All I know is I'm taking a bag of frozen BBQ boneless chicken chunks (I called ahead she already has ranch), a can of pepper spray to deter murderers and praying this workout is set to the following playlist:

Track
1. "I Like Big Butts"
2. "Back that ass up"
3. Whatever that song is that goes booty booty booty booty rockin' errwheeree.
4. The Thong Song
5. Get low
6. Baby got back
7. every other song about asses and butts ever created. There are SO MANY.

Later party people.

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Insignificant yet life altering traumas: High School Edition!


I wasn't fat in high school. However I was tall and had a more mature body than some of the other girls. I had hips, I had boobs, I had thighs and yes I was bigger than many girls but I wasn't FAT.  I know that now because I am fat. Obviously there were other girls at my school that were bigger than me so I wish I could say it was all in my head but unfortunately high school is high school which brings us to...... Insignificant yet life altering traumas: High School Edition!
 
Me as a sophomore and my younger sister at our father's wedding.
 
I had many, many, many, many, many, many insignificant yet life altering traumas in high school but this one stood out for rudeness.
 
It was either my freshman or sophomore year in high school and I was taking a drama class. I think it was one of the first days of class when the teacher went around the room and ask everyone to say why they were taking this class. Most of the class answered because it sounds fun or interesting or it was easy. When it was my turn I confidently stated "I want to be an actress. I've been looking at modeling/acting agencies in Chicago. I want to go to NYU Tisch School of the Arts. " Which at the time, this all seemed like a possibility for my future. I had gotten brochures, looked up agencies online, theater camps, workshops, all sorts of stuff. So I reveal my dream to the class just to be met with a snarky "PPPSSSSHH. Well, you're gonna hafta lose weight if you think you're gonna be a model!" from some upper class man girl behind me. So I looked at her and replied "I never said I was going to be a model..."
"Yes you did!"
"No..I didn't. I said actress."
"You said model!"
I don't remember what came next, since it was such a low blow I very well could have just sat down in shock but more likely there was probably swearing involved. Either way it went, I've never forgotten the girl or the comment. Especially because neither her or her friend sitting right next to her laughing were really skinny themselves, which made it even more traumatizing.
 
This wasn't the first time my weight was an issue for me. I remember in 7th grade, I had just moved to a new town and in my English class we had to write in a journal every week or whatever for the teacher to read, just telling her about ourselves or what was going on in our life at the time. One day I decided to write about how I was going to go on a diet. I remember writing that I had told my mom I wanted to go on a diet and she told me that I looked fine and once I got to high school I would be "A knock out". I didn't agree and thought that I needed to lose some weight. My teacher did the good teacher thing and in response wrote something like "You are fine just the way you are! Plus you are on the light side of medium anyways. you don't need to lose weight." Which I appreciated but maybe they should have thought twice about the swimsuits we were given to wear for gym being color classified by size. As the sizes got bigger, the color of the suit got darker. I was in a dark navy, one or two steps down from black, which was the largest and a skirted suit. Who decided that was a good idea for a middle school?!?! Sure I look hot in my swimdress NOW but putting a middle school girl in that shit could cause some serious emotional damage. Better question, why did we have communal swimsuits?!
 
Now that I'm grown, I look back and realize how ridiculous I was. Sadly even with a support system telling me I was fine just the way I was, 100 compliments are quickly forgotten when an insult is thrown your way. It's upsetting to think my future children will feel that way someday and there isn't anything Rob or I will be able to say or do to convince them otherwise. Hopefully they will have the sense to not let people's stupid opinions bring them down. Parenting seems like it's going to be super hard.  Honestly if I can raise at least one kid who doesn't turn out to be serial killer, I would totally be cool with that. That sounds like successful parenting to me!
 
The moral of the story is - enjoy your teen years you pretty, skinny little bitches. Because one day you'll find yourself going from "I would kill myself if I weighed 200 pounds" (true statement I once made in high school) to shuffling around the house in sweatpants and a t-shirt muttering "I would kill someone if it would get me down to 200 lbs! I'd also kill someone for a Twinkie. ROB! Do you know where I put those cloud cakes??? God damn Hostess going out of business. You know, I didn't even like this shit until it was gone."
 
 
 
 

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Being Discovered

This post is dedicated to the nice woman and her husband I met last weekend. I warned you this was going to happen, as it was a highlight in this crazy thing I call my life.

Last weekend I went out with the gang, by gang I mean my group of gal pals but technically we might also fit into the classification of "street gang". We are hardcore and will cut a bitch if provoked. So we went out and like many Saturday nights in this incredibly classy mid-west town of ours, we encountered our very own drunk jackass. He is actually a cousin of one of my friends, and apparently when he drinks he feels like he can talk a bunch of shizzy. So as he sat behind us at a table making rude comments and mediocre insults to the bartenders, I just kept my mouth shut and reminded myself that I can't go to jail. As the minutes passed, each one more excruciating than the last, I calmed myself with some deep yoga breathing and extreme jaw clenching. I'm pretty proud of myself for keeping it together as long as I did, the old Rachel would have promptly thrown down at the first remark. Mind you I wouldn't have cared nearly as much had all this ridiculousness been directed at me but it was directed at the two female bartenders, then towards another girl who joined us and that is something I can't stand for. Though these other women could hold their own and did so with grace only a true lady beholds, it still infuriated me to no end. Especially when his girlfriend or what ever her relation was to him, sat by without much interjection to his behavior. To anyone who might not be from the mid-west, you could be thinking "Uhhh..sounds like acceptable hick behavior" but I assure you this is not everyday occurrence. At least not in my life. All of the women I know and hold near and dear would never let her man talk to another woman in this manner and maybe that's why I found it so crude and in terrible taste. I think he thought he was being funny with most of it but he wasn't funny. Like not even a little, I would know because I excel in crude humor. My sailor mouthed poop jokes have gotten me both in and out of some very awkward situations. Anyways it was finally to the point where I couldn't hold it in so I focused all my energy into blurt-shouting something which I don't remember what it was. My outburst got his attention and he told me to "tone it down." I slowly turned myself in his direction and gave him what I imagine was a look that could kill, because Lynsey said "Ooooo. She gon' kill youuuu...." So then he looked at me and said "I said tone it down!" My death stare continued. Then he broke eye contact and muttered "I just said tone it down..." Shortly after that they left, which was nice because I had been mulling revenge ideas over in my head that led me to ask question like "What did you say his last name was?" and "Is throwing a cup of urine at someone considered assault?"

So after 4 of the 6 table behind us people left, and peace was restored, we continued visiting with our friends. The people who had joined us included 2 girls who were at the bachelorette party for our friend Jaime. After a quick jaunt down memory lane, Rev Rach was brought up and soon surfaced remarking "That foul sir almost made me lose mah southern charm" in the most spot on southern accent I could bare to muster through the anger and alcohol flowing through my delicate waif-like body. Which quickly led to an exorcism. Which then led to some other inappropriate, yet awesome I'm sure, display of my ever growing large and in charge personality. Which eventually led to the attention of the other couple who was with the guy that needs to find Jesus. Oh my, what will happen next?!

In my fast paced world it's not unusual that I only remember moments that stuck out significantly, my brain ain't got no time for the boring. So here are some of the events of that night as I remember them. My interpretation may be a little skewed but I'm ok with that:

Me telling the couple from the table, we'll call them L&H, lady and husband because I don't remember their names and don't have permission to use them anyways.
Ok so me telling L&H about the time I asked Rob if I had a beautiful singing voice and he replied "I wouldn't say beautiful. It's wonderful! I love that you feel like you can sing but it's not beautiful..." Which is by far the greatest, somewhat insulting compliment I have EVER received and his delivery was so spot on that I literally love him more because of that response.

Me being me. Trying to entertain and interact. (Remember in my Fanatic Shemnatic post how I am weird about TV shows and stuff. Well when I go out I always secretly hope that a bar full of strangers from all different walks of life somehow come together in unity and with respect for each other, no matter how different we all are, preferably by song. We met as strangers, we left as strangers but having shared that special moment, none of us would ever be the same!)

Hear lady telling husband I'm hilarious and should be a stand up comic.

My group finds a table and sits.

Me creeping back over to the couple and showing L&H pictures of Magnus. (A moment of clarity on my part where I realize that creeping over to people, telling them since I already talked to them I'm going to show them pictures of my rabbit photo shoots is probably really weird. But then I remembered I don't care and rabbits in hats are both super funny and adorable) I then tell them their friend was an ass.

Lady says "You're a little eccentric, aren't you?" (Never a more truthful statement)

Lady asking me where I was from and when I said here she said something like this town was too small for me. (Agreed)

Have a cowfit and demand to talk to the manager of the juke box company because we hit play next on a song and it didn't play next or next or next or next. Sit at bar moping then grab onto the handle bars they have built into the top of the bar and narrate myself jumping over a cliff. Lynsey runs to bathroom having peed her pants, she was the only one who got I was acting out my own personal music video to the song that was playing.

Our song FINALLY comes on and I am able to perform it for all to see.

Half of our table leaves.

Continue my sweet dance moves, try to jump up and grab the steering wheel bolted to the ceiling of the bar. Fail. Make a mental note to practice jumping.

More dance moves. Accidentally destroy half the bar.

Go talk to L&H. She asks me if I ever considered doing community theater and I say Duh! Didn't you know I was supposed to be an actress. She said she could tell. I told her I never tried out before and she tells me I should do it. Then I tell her that my friend does another musical theater in town and was going to tell me when the next audition for that was so I could tryout. And she said that the community theater she does doesn't do any musicals so I wouldn't have to sing, since she now knew about Rob saying my voice was not beautiful. Then I said "HE said I couldn't sing, I never said I couldn't sing!" And sang a line from "All That Jazz" along with sweet jazz hands. I could tell she was bursting inside with emotional from my impressive vocal skills but she played it cool, kept very calm on the surface and said "You're not that bad!" and I told her I'm even better sober.
Nice lady (or could be serial killer) asked for my address so she could send me their next theater newsletter. So I wrote it down for her and with that I was discovered! And then I told them "Oh I'm going to say this was me being discovered when I blog about it, k?" They said that was fine.

Then I had to abruptly leave our conversation so I could sing/act out my music video to Lady Gaga's "You and I".

The clock struck 12:30 and we left to go somewhere else.

So that's the story of how I was discovered. By someone with ties to the community theater. Pretty incredible. If/when I audition for community theater and get a part I will be sure to rent a billboard to let everyone know. And if I don't get a part, I will shackle myself to the tree outside the theater on opening night and put on my own one women show. With a possibly cameo from Magnus, warrior bunny. Either way people will never forget my name....


Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Wanna be a blogga, shot calla......

Remember when I was all "I will be posted my New Year's post soon.." JUST KIDDING!! But I made you this instead:

 So I have become INTENSELY lazy recently and am kicking myself to do more blogging. It just seems like nothing is going on in my brain. No electric pulses of creativity, for God's sake it's been months since I dressed Magnus up for a photo shoot. I've been on a Pinterest hiatus but have found myself drawn back the last few days. Which isn't helping because after my first few blog posts I was like "Woohoo I could totally do this all the time" and then I see these other people's blogs and I'm like "Holy f-balls......what was I thinking?! I can't compete with real bloggers" I mean have you seen some of these blogs?! Southern accent "I am a stay at home mom with four kids. Browse through these pictures I took with my obviously very expensive, high quality camera. This is a recent project in which I refinish this dresser to put into my bedroom that looks like it came straight out of a "House Beautiful" article. Oh I also lost 300 lbs in three years, have abs of steel, make delicious meals every night, in the crockpot, on a budget and apparently am a G-D graphic designer. Yay!" I don't know where these bitches come from, are they bred like pedigree dogs? Because this is not a normal occurrence in nature. In fact I'm kind of pissed that these high levels of determination and drive even exist and they are thoroughly documented online, yet I have had NO CALLS about the incredibly low levels of determination I deal with. I would be the perfect contestant for a literal version of "The Biggest Loser". Just a 24/7 feed of my hopes and dreams slowly slipping away due to self sabotage as I lay on the couch playing Candy Crush Saga eating carbs.What? You wouldn't watch that? I would, of course, I love TV.

It's not like I don't want my blog to be great and have a bunch of followers, that would be cool. And I would love to have companies send me free swag to talk about, even if it's just rabbit food makers or obscure man wig manufacturers. But it looks like soooo mucchhh woorrkk..maybe if my to do list wasn't already 6 pages long I could squeeze some researching and blogging awesomeness in there but as of right now, my free time is better spent vacuuming and cleaning. Seriously, I was cleaning out my frig the other day and there was dog hair under the drawers at the bottom. How does that even happen? I don't recall ever shutting a dog in the fridge but then again I have been drinking more than usual since Thanksgiving. Plus I think a lot of it is following other people's blogs and I have this weird idea that my mind would be tainted if I read other people's funny stuff and I wouldn't be able to write my own honest and open views on things. I would start writing about homeschooling my kids and paleo-diets, I could see it becoming this whole Single White Female thing and it would just get weird. So for now you just get the bare bones with a couple of pictures thrown in once in a while.

Also I, like many, am a big fan of instant gratification. I am extremely impatient sometimes. Like if Rob and I are having a conversation about acquiring something, once we decide it's a go, I'm out the door.
Rob, shuffling papers "Well it looks like we can start looking for a new car!"
Me "YEAHHHHHH! LET'S GO NOW!"
Rob "Ummm...It's 2:00 in the morning"
Me "YEAHHHHHH! WE ARE CrAzY LATE NIGHT CAR BUYERS!"
Rob "It's not even open. We can't go buy one right this instant."
Me "YEAHHHHHH! WE ARE GOING TO STEAL A NEEEEW CAR!!" in my Oprah voice

And then he locks me in the bedroom and I scream "I'm TOO EXCITED TO SLEEEPPP!!" giggling and kicking all the blankets off the bed.
Obviously these other bloggers have dedicated a lot of their time to working on their blogs and it was probably a couple years before they started getting a large fan base. When they share their blog on Facebook it probably reaches a lot more people, because they have more Facebook friends than me. They probably have more Facebook friends because they are easy........to talk to. And they sleep around :D just kidding?

So anyways, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I think I might go get my fitness on. It's pretty tough on the streets, I need to be in peak condition for my upcoming dance fight. It will be spectacular!

Hey! After 9 people read this I'll have 1500 hits :D

Sure half of them are probably from fake computer robots trying to spam me but I'll take it!


Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Merry Freakin' (Late) Christmas

I've received hundreds of emails from my readers asking where is my Christmas blog post this week. And by hundreds of emails I mean I brought up the fact I didn't finish my Christmas post at our family Christmas gathering and my sister Emily said, "oh yeah, I thought you said were going to post something about Christmas" So much pressure!
Well here is why I never got it posted. I was not at all in the Christmas spirit. It took forever to snow, I didn't get any presents bought until two days before Christmas, my kitchen is a biohazard and I was on a low carb diet so no baking was going on, I was just pre-occupied this year. We didn't even know where we were going to have Christmas until the day before. That one was mostly my fault because I've been disowning family members a lot this year and refuse to buy them any presents or be near them, making everyone else in the family feel awkward about it. Did I ruin Christmas this year? Not in my opinion. I think it turned out pretty well which is a surprise because our family Christmases (Christmi, Christmeeses?) are always pretty interesting.


1. My mom is always buying us things we didn't ask for.
She did surprise me last year and get me something I had asked for, an Iowa State Cyclone scarf. it was freaking awesome. Even though she had called and asked Rob what I wanted and told him she would get the scarf, I still ended up with two. Rob knows not to trust my mom when she says she's going to do something. Even though the scarf was totally rad, truthfully I missed the thrill of the mystery gift.

2. She disguises presents in weird boxes.
Two years ago, everyone opening gifts thought they got clearance popcorn. I think someone really did get popcorn, once again MYSTERY GIIIFTT!! She's also evil with her weird boxes.
I remember when I was younger, my mom was wrapping a present for my brother. She had somehow gotten a hold of a Nike shoe box and used it to wrap up his present, a stuffed penguin. Mind you, my brother was well into his twentys by this point. Sweet! New Nikes! Just kidding, just a stuffed penguin and cans of corn to add weight.

3. My mother labels NOTHING.
Every single year someone ends up opening someone elses present. I'm surprised someone hasn't gotten hurt when my mom realizes its the wrong one, screams "WRONG PRESENT. THAT'S NOT YOURS!" and rips it out of your hands. Sometimes she doesn't get things wrapped and we just close our eyes and when we open them, YAY! PRESENT!

4. You don't get a present.
For years, my brother always got screwed out of Christmas. One year, my mom just forgot to get him anything. Usually she just forgets things in a closet somewhere and has to go look for it but one year she just forgot about him. And no one else got him anything because my younger sister and I were still kids, therefore not obligated to think about any one but ourselves, and our older sister was just broke.
Or if you are one of our relatives you end up opening a unexpected package in mid-March full of Christmas presents. Mom puts the 'pro' in procrastination.

5. Your present has been been peed on.
The following year, Zach finally got a present. It was a sweater. He tried it on, that's when we figured out the cat had peed on it. So we checked the other presents, nope it just peed on his. Sucks to be Zachary!

6. Extreme Cage Fighting.
Very few of our family gatherings ever occur without some kind of brawl. Once again, this one is usually me. I just don't get along with people. But in my defense, if we went with my ideas on how to celebrate there wouldn't be any issues, just fun. I mean, who could get mad at a Kristmas Karaoke party? Or a festive talent showcase?

7. Swearing.
Christmas just wouldn't be Christmas if there wasn't any swearing going on. Sometimes its just mixed casually into conversation, sometimes it's out of anger.

There are many more things I can think of but for the sake of your brain, I'm going to stop there plus I really want to get to this next part.


It's the first annual CHRISTMAS RECAP! 2012 Edition!

We had our family Christmas at Lacey and Ellie's house this year. Also my mom's boyfriend came to town for his first super classy get together that is our Christmas. So everyone gets there around 3:15 or so. My mom reminds me about Lacey's gift that I left in my basement and she also didn't get some presents wrapped, they were up at her house. So Rob and Dakotah give my mom a ride up to her house and they go get Lacey's present out of our basement and grab a couple other things we forgot. While they are gone, we video tape Ellie opening presents from her dad's side from California. I manage to say "b-hole" in the background of the recording, causing Ellie to die laughing shrieking "BUTTHOLE" and Lacey to chew me out. I was also in charge of watching the chili on the stove and not once, not twice but four times I would try sneaking a bite and it would fall back into the pot after already being partially in my mouth. Luckily no one saw me and probably have no idea unless they are reading this. Don't worry, it wasn't prechewed or anything and I tried to get those pieces back out right after they dropped in. No one opened the wrong presents but once again my mom did not label anything and we had to do some switching around. This year, Lacey also decided not to label presents either. Because apparently writing is too much work for these people. I purposely left all the price tags on everything I gave out because I wanted everyone to know where they stood with me. My mom actually enjoyed all of her gifts and Lacey's heartfelt card made her cry, *cough* suck up. We got some pretty cool stuff too. I'm not going to list it all here because if you read my blog, chances are you have low morals and you'll probably try to burglar our house. Plan foiled! But I will tell you that my mom's boyfriend made us all these really awesome cutting boards. The dogs and Magnus got me a calender with rat terriers on it and they got Rob nothing because I am a terrible wife. My younger sister Emily announced she is going to run away and join a group of fire performers to be a fire hooper, or as I heard it "I'm running away to light myself on fire and join the circus. And maybe be homeless for awhile." A couple days later she called to tell us she cut part of her finger off with a deli meat slicer at work. Unrelated but I felt I had to share. Overall it was a pretty good Christmas time.

In closing, that's my Christmas post. Sorry it was so late, I'm such a lazy bitch! I will be posted my New Year's post soon...or in mid-February. Whatev!
KLOVEYOUBYE!