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!
Thursday, May 16, 2013
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.
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!
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.
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.
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....
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