Friday, March 28, 2014

Stupid Things I Do.....

Believe or not I am NOT perfect...shocker, I know. I always seem so pulled together. This is what my sarcastic font looks like. I've said it before and I'll say it again, public shaming is where it's at. That being said here is a list of stupid things I do or have done lately.....

1. On my lunch break the other day I thought it would be an awesome idea to wipe off all my makeup and yield a razor blade to my face in hopes to better my skin. Not only was it on my lunch break but it was in the last 20 minutes of my lunch break. My face looked like I had been ravaged by a tiny velociraptor. So then I had to pile on makeup and then I broke out. Vicious cycle.

2. Just realizing my Facebook profile wasn't set to completely private. Yes apparently sometimes when I posted stuff it was displayed for the public to see. Including a couple things I probably shouldn't have posted in the first place. So that was super freaking awesome, not. Stupid Facebook trying to show off my goodies.

3. Going out and actin' a damn fool. This one I can at least give myself a little credit, I don't go out and start fights or talk shit to people. I'm never really mean or anything. But I do love to dance and once in a while, perform karaoke. I enjoy the spotlight by nature, I'm loud and proud, to the dismay of many hipsters, prudes and those types of people that actually care about what they look like by 12:30am out at the bar. So yes I get the occasional sneer or glare and yes it makes me want to slash their car tires and YES it hurts my feelings. But you can't stop a buffalo from roaming and that's what I am, a loud, dancing, karaoke performing buffalo. And as it is sung in Same Love by Macklemore.. I can't change, even if I tried. So suck it betches.

Since re-reading the above #3, I figure that doesn't really count as something stupid. Being yourself is nothing to be ashamed of but this is:
3. I always forget to turn my phone ringer off before work. Nothing like talked to your boss as "Straight Outta Mordor" starts playing from inside your purse. Especially when it gets gradually louder and you try raising the volume of your voice to try to cover up the lyrics "Pour more of that maiden bangin' potion".

4. I own black clothes. And I wear black clothes - a lot, which wouldn't be an issue except that I live with 3 dogs and a rabbit. Just getting out of the house in the morning wearing black pants is like navigating a minefield. A minefield with little dog bullets trying to rub up against you. We should seriously consider buying stock in lint rollers.

5. I'm late for work sometimes. But it's rarely for a good reason. It's usually because even though I am on time, I always find something I NEED to do before I leave for work. Like stare into my freezer or say my last goodbyes to my animals in case something were to happen to me or see what my hair would look like in a bob or to rip off the spanx cami I thought I could deal with wearing all day but realized after 23 minutes that there is NO way I could stand wearing it for 8 hours and expect my organs to function properly. All very important things. Or not. I guess we'll never know.

So those are 5 out of the 1753 stupid things I do each day.

Until next time my lovelies!

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

One time we ate a hobo's green beans...

When I was in about 7th-8th grade, my friends and I used to tear around our neighborhood like real O.G.s (that's Original Gangster for those of you unfamiliar with Ice-T). We were not your typical tween girls. Though we did spend a chunk of our time sitting on our friend's front steps, checking out the older neighborhood boys who paused at the 4-way stop in front of her house and also nonchalantly riding our sweet bikes in front of their residences 200-300 times a day, the rest of the time we did a lot of thrill seeking, adventurous type stuff.

We didn't live too far from several parks, two of which were connected by a creek. Being completely unsupervised and extremely confident of our swimming skills, we would wait until after a heavy rain, go down to the creek and prepare for excitement. The creek would become a raging, larger version of itself, we would start at the park furthest away from our houses, grab a section of log that was loose, ride the rapids down to the next park and swim in our good ol' swimming hole for awhile before we would trudge back home, filthy, stinky and almost always slightly damaged from the rocks. That creek was so rocky and full of woodsy debris, that if you tried to use some kind of inflatable it would be immediately punctured and torn to shreds, hence the brilliant idea of using a log as a canoe. When there was no floatin' log, or if the log became to heavy, we would opt to travel via body board, aka just floating on your back the best you could. you had to be really careful when you came up to the really rocky sections and either walk it or arch your back up as far as possible to keep from being smashed to hell. Also, PROTECT THE HEAD.

Anyways during our sweet rafting trips we would come across some very unexplored terrains. Because no one else was stupid brilliant enough to float down a polluted crick. There was a beaver dam, a couple deep spots good for dunking or jumping into off of cliffs and then there was the giant metal tubes that supported the busy road above one section of the creek. Or maybe it as just one, I don't remember, I'll have to walk down and look this spring. Anyways this is the title of this blog comes into play, one time while we were exploring the big metal cave we came across the remnants of a fire pit and some slabs in the position of a seat. Though there were clearly signs someone had claimed this spot we quickly stuck our flag in the gravel and commandeered it as our new territory. It was a nice little set up, we had our different rooms, made furniture out of logs and rock slab, we were basically the G-damn Flintstones. We spent a lot of time and energy pimping our metal tube out so imagine our surprise when we returned one day to see someone had hunkered down and had used our awesome fort as a residence. Sure looking back on it now, I feel bad for whoever took shelter in our pimped out pad, but at the time we were pretty pissed. I mean HOW DARE THEY violate our sweet clubhouse (that we had stolen from the first owner) with their homelessness. Bastards. You might be wondering how we knew someone had used our clubhouse, well just like poor Goldilocks, we happened upon them, all cozy with their backpack..............and that's the story of the first time we killed someone. JUST KIDDING. For the love of God don't call the police.

What really happened was we noticed someone had burned a log in the fire pit and they also had left a can of green beans. Being the inconsiderate asshole daredevils we are, we immediately began daring each other to eat the green beans...which we opened caveman style, by banging the can open with a sharp rock. I just want to stop here and remind you, we were like 12 or 13 at this time. Full survivor mode, if there is EVER a zombie apocalypse, we are totally going to be Doomsday Rulers.  Anyways, we bang the can open and after daring each other to eat the green beans, we all do it together. And they tasted like victory.

So that's the story of us being asshole kids, ruining some homeless persons makeshift shelter and stealing their food. Sorry buddy.

Until next time kittens!



Sunday, March 9, 2014

The Way, Way Back

*Disclaimer* As a foolhardy attempt to clean up my act I have decided to go back through my blog and try to post some of the many drafts I have started writing and never finished. The best way to break a bad habit of procrastination is to kick it in the crouch and make it your bitch. Also *Grandma I am sorry I swear so much in my blogs but I can only work on one character flaw at a time.." So Procrastination, prepare to die. As you will see, the timeline is going to be very off. Such as, in this post I talk about my four year old niece, Ellie is now 6. #timewarp. I'll even change the font color of the old post so you don't break your brain.


I had an interesting conversation with my niece Ellie, age 4, while driving her to gymnastics class. I was telling her that while she was in class, she should try to really focus when she was practicing. Not to get too excited when it was her turn to do the different moves because you could get hurt or more importantly, mess up. Yes, I am one of those overly involved freaks you see on TLC shows and yes I do plan on living vicariously through my niece. So I am explaining to her what it means to focus, we practice focusing on my finger, practice focusing on the car ahead of us, we are just a couple-a focusing fools, I tell ya. So we are focusing on this van ahead of us at the stoplight, looking at all the details on it, the color, the license plate, the make and model, doing great when all of a sudden Ellie looks at me with squinty eyes and slowly tells me "I've never ridden in a tractor before."
I look back at her, dumbfounded because I was so focused on the van ahead of us and ask her "What?" and she replies "A tractor. I've never ridden in one. OH LOOK! A PLANE!"
So I added "teaching a 4 year old how to focus" to the list of Impossible Tasks, right under "clean entire house" and right above "get father's approval" *collective AWWWWWWWWW* haha just kidding (no I'm not). But teaching a 4 year old to focus is a tough job, actually the whole parenting thing in general seems like a pretty impossible thing to do.
Either it's because I don't have a little child of my own, or maybe because I really do feel like I need my father's approval, (it's that one) that when it comes to little kids, it takes a lot to impress me. I don't know if that makes sense, just bear with me, ok so what I mean is I am just sometimes too critical, of little kids, I'm a kid critic. It sounds like I'm a huge jerk but I'm not..well maybe a little. Like I really enjoy watching and helping Ellie do her gymnastics, I've very proud of how well she does. But I am also very strict with her and unless she does something really well or close to, I don't think she needs any praise. As I type this I am trying to think of other examples and I am starting to realize that it's only her. I am only that way with little Ellie. All the other little kids in my family, my friends' kids, nope I'm not hyper-critical of any of them, everything they do is cool. It's poor Ellie who gets the brunt of the madness. 

 Looking back I realize I was a dick to Ellie and I'm happy to say I have changed since then. Mostly because she isn't in gymnastics anymore, but also because I realized that even if she isn't the next gold medal gymnast she is still amazing. The way her brain works, the things she says, her ability to kick ass playing Subway Surfer or that Minion game on her mom's phone. The fact that she loves Albert Einstein, she is obsessed with Morgan Freeman, even named her baby doll after him and refuses to swear even when I try really hard to trick her into it, because she "is too little to say bad words". Best of all, she loves me for no reason. If I lost my job, my house and smelled like cat urine, she would still love me. After all bullying I put her through and I am still her Auntie Rachel. Which is why I am convinced she is the best person in the world. Period.