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.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
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.
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....
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!
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!
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!
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Insignificant yet life altering traumas: Life Lessons
Once again I have been traumatized, this time a good lesson came along with it. For the last eleven days or so I have been suffering from this stupid, itchy rash. I'm not sure where it came from but if I had to guess, it came from Satan's womb. This rash has been so bad, I left work early on Monday; I couldn't get into my regular doctor so I went to urgent care out at the hospital. While I was waiting to get in, I overheard an older gentleman, I use the term gentleman very loosely here, talking to his daughter who had brought him, about a similar rash. I commented "Oh that's weird. That's why I'm here." Being a classic hypochondriac, my first thought was we are obviously Patients 0 and 01 of the impending zombie apocalypse. Which would be cool, I guess, zombie outbreak virus is better than the rest of the crap I had self diagnosed myself with the days prior to my doctor visit. According to my research I had MRSA, fleas, scabies, mites, eczema, chronic dry skin, scarlet fever, heat rash, cold rash, stress rash and I was also being poisoned. So I finally get called back, the nurse wants to check my height (ok) and weight (I'LL MURDER YOU ALLLLLL). Yup, still tall and fat, just like last time. We go in the little room and I'm telling the nurse what I was there for, since I am practically a doctor myself, I bypass her questions with a summary of my own observations. "I have a rash, its been 11 days, it's really itchy, started on my stomach, has spread to back, then legs, then arms. It looks like this, I haven't made an environmental or dietary changes. Blah, blah, blahhhh" Ok pay attention, this next part is important to this story.
**FLASHBACK to earlier that day. I am minding my own business in the bathroom at work, doing what everyone does in the bathroom, hiding and checking my facebook. So I decide that I do actually have to pee, which I do. Then I notice something strange, so I check again, "What the f---?!" I finish my bathroom business and go back to work, a little concerned and confused. About an hour and a half later, I go to the bathroom again. Pee again, notice something is again, not right. So I check again, 'What the hell is going on down there?" Go back to work. Soon the itchy around my belt line, waist, whatever you call it, became unbearable and at about 1:30 I asked if I could go home, call the doctor, take a Benedryl, lay around naked, hopefully go see the doctor and come back to work my 5:30 - 8:00 half of the day. That was fine, so I head home. I get there and eat something and lay around pant less while I wait for urgent care to open at 3:00. Rob comes home from work and I tell him whats going on including the 'bad thing' that I discovered while at work. "That pretty much means I'm dying right?!" Rob says "Well it's not good.." 'I know, I have had a terrible day.."****
So cut back to the appointment. With the rash part explained to the nurse, I start my next sentence with.."There was something else I wanted to ask about. I was in the bathroom earlier today.......and when I wiped......did it again....back to the bathroom....got home.....bathroom...water in the toilet...REALLY RED.....doesn't hurt....that's not normal right?!....embarrassing...seriously wrong otherwise I wouldn't mention...my mom is a nurse.....is this death?!"
Eventually the doctor makes her way in. She determines the rash is probably an allergic reaction to something, I concur. She prescribes some pills for the itching and she tells me 'if it doesn't get better in 10 days, call your doctor....' Uhhhhh...riiight. I thought that's why I was here?
Anyways I bring up the 'bad thing'. "So I was in the bathroom earlier.....that's not my vagina....pregnancy test....shit, that's not my vagina!....bathroom again...home...called my mom, she's a nurse....I didn't eat any beets! Who eats beets?!...seriously wrong, otherwise I would NOT ask you...zombie apocalypse?....Am I dying?"
She is not at all concerned. She replies "If it doesn't go away, call your doctor..."
I'm AT a HOSPITAL. Like I walked passed an AMBULANCE on my way in here. If I could have gone to my regular doctor, I would have! But I couldn't get in, so I came here...FIX ME! So I was sent away, I went to the pharmacy of my choice, Target and waited for my itchy pills. The pharm tech asked for my name, grabbed my bag and said "Two?" "I dunno" I said peeking into the bag, I could see a pill bottle and something that looked like ointment "Sure?" "Hydro-something and hydoro-something? For itch?" she asks "Yeah..for itch." I retort as I'm gnawing off my arm. Sweet, I thought to myself, did she give me medicated lotion too? Hit the road, itchy skin!
"Have you taken both of these before?" she asks.
"No, neither of them" as I scratch the skin off my face
"Ok, I'll have you talk to the pharmacist before you leave."
"KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK" I'm literally about to rip my shirt off I'm so itchy.
So the pharmacist comes over looks at the pills and tells me "Take one of these three times a day for the itch. Do not take Benedryl with it."
Then she pulls out the little things of lotion. "Keep these at room temperature. and.."
*Me rolling my eyes...yeah yeah lady I know how lotion works. I'm not a complete idiot. Why is this chick whispering??*
"if you have some trouble, just put a little KY on them and they'll side right up...."
"Wha huh? Come again?!"
Pharmacist pulls out her bullhorn " AHEM. ATTENTION CUSTOMERS. IF YOU HAVE TROUBLE PUTTING THESE IN YOUR BUTTHOLE, (she might have said rectum, I was too busy dying of embarrassment) PUT A LITTLE KY ON IT AND IT WILL SLIDE RIGHT IN!"
I run to the car as quick as I can, call Rob to tell him we can never shop at Target again and he dies laughing.
The moral of the story is: If you are going to be a hypochondriac, do so wisely. Because someday a doctor might write you a prescription for anal suppositories. I'm pretty sure that the issue I was having definitely did NOT require this degree of medicinal treatment and she only did it to prove a point, that I was an idiot. I mean I never even took my pants off! How could she even know what did or did not need to be up in there? Well at least that $5.00 went to good use, someone is getting a hell of a stocking stuffer this year...
**FLASHBACK to earlier that day. I am minding my own business in the bathroom at work, doing what everyone does in the bathroom, hiding and checking my facebook. So I decide that I do actually have to pee, which I do. Then I notice something strange, so I check again, "What the f---?!" I finish my bathroom business and go back to work, a little concerned and confused. About an hour and a half later, I go to the bathroom again. Pee again, notice something is again, not right. So I check again, 'What the hell is going on down there?" Go back to work. Soon the itchy around my belt line, waist, whatever you call it, became unbearable and at about 1:30 I asked if I could go home, call the doctor, take a Benedryl, lay around naked, hopefully go see the doctor and come back to work my 5:30 - 8:00 half of the day. That was fine, so I head home. I get there and eat something and lay around pant less while I wait for urgent care to open at 3:00. Rob comes home from work and I tell him whats going on including the 'bad thing' that I discovered while at work. "That pretty much means I'm dying right?!" Rob says "Well it's not good.." 'I know, I have had a terrible day.."****
So cut back to the appointment. With the rash part explained to the nurse, I start my next sentence with.."There was something else I wanted to ask about. I was in the bathroom earlier today.......and when I wiped......did it again....back to the bathroom....got home.....bathroom...water in the toilet...REALLY RED.....doesn't hurt....that's not normal right?!....embarrassing...seriously wrong otherwise I wouldn't mention...my mom is a nurse.....is this death?!"
Eventually the doctor makes her way in. She determines the rash is probably an allergic reaction to something, I concur. She prescribes some pills for the itching and she tells me 'if it doesn't get better in 10 days, call your doctor....' Uhhhhh...riiight. I thought that's why I was here?
Anyways I bring up the 'bad thing'. "So I was in the bathroom earlier.....that's not my vagina....pregnancy test....shit, that's not my vagina!....bathroom again...home...called my mom, she's a nurse....I didn't eat any beets! Who eats beets?!...seriously wrong, otherwise I would NOT ask you...zombie apocalypse?....Am I dying?"
She is not at all concerned. She replies "If it doesn't go away, call your doctor..."
I'm AT a HOSPITAL. Like I walked passed an AMBULANCE on my way in here. If I could have gone to my regular doctor, I would have! But I couldn't get in, so I came here...FIX ME! So I was sent away, I went to the pharmacy of my choice, Target and waited for my itchy pills. The pharm tech asked for my name, grabbed my bag and said "Two?" "I dunno" I said peeking into the bag, I could see a pill bottle and something that looked like ointment "Sure?" "Hydro-something and hydoro-something? For itch?" she asks "Yeah..for itch." I retort as I'm gnawing off my arm. Sweet, I thought to myself, did she give me medicated lotion too? Hit the road, itchy skin!
"Have you taken both of these before?" she asks.
"No, neither of them" as I scratch the skin off my face
"Ok, I'll have you talk to the pharmacist before you leave."
"KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK" I'm literally about to rip my shirt off I'm so itchy.
So the pharmacist comes over looks at the pills and tells me "Take one of these three times a day for the itch. Do not take Benedryl with it."
Then she pulls out the little things of lotion. "Keep these at room temperature. and.."
*Me rolling my eyes...yeah yeah lady I know how lotion works. I'm not a complete idiot. Why is this chick whispering??*
"if you have some trouble, just put a little KY on them and they'll side right up...."
"Wha huh? Come again?!"
Pharmacist pulls out her bullhorn " AHEM. ATTENTION CUSTOMERS. IF YOU HAVE TROUBLE PUTTING THESE IN YOUR BUTTHOLE, (she might have said rectum, I was too busy dying of embarrassment) PUT A LITTLE KY ON IT AND IT WILL SLIDE RIGHT IN!"
I run to the car as quick as I can, call Rob to tell him we can never shop at Target again and he dies laughing.
The moral of the story is: If you are going to be a hypochondriac, do so wisely. Because someday a doctor might write you a prescription for anal suppositories. I'm pretty sure that the issue I was having definitely did NOT require this degree of medicinal treatment and she only did it to prove a point, that I was an idiot. I mean I never even took my pants off! How could she even know what did or did not need to be up in there? Well at least that $5.00 went to good use, someone is getting a hell of a stocking stuffer this year...
The END!
( ! )
Har har har
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