Stupid Things I Do.....

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until next time my lovelies!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until next time kittens!

The Way, Way Back

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


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

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

 

It's Adventure Time! Not the show.

Most of you already saw my Facebook post but for anyone who didn't I announced some big news. No, not a baby, not everything is about babies. I have the opportunity, thanks to an understanding husband, to go to Chicago in August and take part in a week long immersion training course at The Second City. I am super, super excited for this adventure and I can't wait to experience something I've only ever dreamed of doing. I know I'm not going to suddenly be chosen to join the cast of SNL or something like that, I'm not THAT unrealistic. But clearly I will probably be offered my own sitcom. Ever since I figured out how to make people laugh, I have imagined being a part of something bigger than myself. More than that I want to prove to everyone that you CAN DO IT. If you want something, GO GET IT. I work at a library, I never saw myself working at a library but I do. And I work. I come into work every day and I work. I work so we can have a house, I work so we can have a car, I work so we can pay our bills. My husband does the same thing, every day. We have worked HARD the last 8 years. We have gotten raises and promotions because of our hard work. And now finally, FINALLY I have the chance to do something I have always wanted to do because I have the money and resources to do it. This was not the path I thought would take me to this point but that's life. Sometimes things don't end up like you thought they would, this isn't a bad thing, some of the best things in life are the unexpected surprises. In 7th grade, I never thought I'd have a boyfriend but guess what I did get a boyfriend and I married the hell out of him. I was told I would live in a cardboard box, well guess what, I only use cardboard boxes to build forts INSIDE MY HOUSE, cause I have a house. I drive a Limited, we call it the unlimited, because when you get in it you are transported to a magical land where anything can happen.  You can't let fear keep you back in life. I am terrified to go to Chicago on my own, I'm scared that I'll walk into class on the first day and I won't be any good. What if I'm terrible, what if everyone hates me, what if I'm not prepared? What if I get abducted? (most likely scenario of all because I'm hilarious and everyone loves me) Seriously though, as scared shitless as I am, I am forcing myself to push through it and go. Because this could be my only chance to experience something like this...and I can't let my fear of what could happen totally screw it up.

In closing, follow your dream, don't let fear delegate what you can or can't do in life and fill your life with as much cool shit as you can. Because someday you will die and they will not let a corpse skydive, I've asked.

Love Always,
 Trashmouth

New Year's Eve-hab

I think I owe everyone an update! Remember that New Year's Eve post...yeah...so....I have this friend. She's a lot like me except she is much more of a party animal. I won't tell you her real name because I don't want to embarrass her but her nickname is Coco. So I decided that Coco should come with hang out with us for New Year's because she didn't really have anything planned and I felt bad and didn't want her to spend New Year's Eve alone. Coco is a very sweet girl but she doesn't always make great life choices, New Year's Eve was no exception. Coco got a little cray cray. Here is what happened. The Lady Wolfpack (my 3 BFFS) and I all met up for a mellow night in with our mens to play a little Cards Against Humanity. I told them about poor Coco being all alone and being the super nice people my friends are, they welcomed the idea of having Coco over. So she comes over and we are all having fun, hanging out, having a couple drinks. Next thing I know I don't see Coco anywhere. Apparently no one had really noticed how much partying Coco had been doing and she was not feeling too hot. We found her in the bathroom (no shade, we've all had our turn but then again it was only about 10:45.) Poor Coco was sooo stoked about New Year's Eve, that she must have overcompensated and over did it. I can't say I blame her, obviously if you read my post about NYE you would see I too was super stoked about partying it up too. We were both really excited to hang out with our friends, one of us made good choices and the other one made not so good choices. It happens. No biggie deal, probably shouldn't rub it in her face or anything, I'm sure she already feels not so cool. So being the nice person I am, I volunteered to take Coco home and I spent my New Year's on the floor of a bathroom..with Coco. Sure we missed the ball drop but I think everyone learned a very valuable lesson about self control and knowing your limits.
I don't know when I'll hang out with Coco again, she hasn't called or text me lately, I think she is taking some time to reflect. Which good for her.

Besides Coco getting totally trashed, we spent an awesome night hanging out with our friends, playing a game and just being around people we love. I can't think of a better way to spend New Year's Eve. Except for maybe partying up in da club. :)

Bye fellow chupacabras.

Not your usual blog post.

Sometimes I get deep into random people's lives, like I see them on Twitter and then Instagram (hint: I have both those now! #ImSoHip) maybe I find their blog, then it all hits the fan. Lately it's been people who hangout with people who are on the brink of being famous. For some people this is not a big deal, they just say "Hmm. That was interesting" click off and continue with their lives. I am not one of those people, if I spend more then 15 minutes looking at your stuff, I am suddenly totally invested in this creepy, one-sided relationship. And everything you do seems super cool, and everything your friends do seem super cool. Which again is totally fine, if it's something like admiring someone's fashion or attitude, lifestyle but again this is where stuff gets weird for me and I start thinking things like 'Hmm...cocaine seems kind of cool...." or "Wow... face tattoos CAN be tastefully done". I try and be an individual but sometimes I just get caught up in things and stuff gets a little crazy for awhile. No biggie...until I end up with a sweet Mike Tyson tribal tat and in rehab for a coke problem.
Things have just been weird for me lately, I don't know if I'm just realizing I'm finally an adult or what but I have just been a huge fan of reckless behavior. I'm still kinda young (compared to some people) but I feel like I'm definitely getting into that old people category...I'm having a mid-mid-life crisis and I don't know how to handle it. I'm sure one major player in this current catastrophe is that we were all ready to have a baby and I was super confident in my baby producing skills. And the months came and went with nothing to show except for my weight gain due to getting off the meds I was on pre-baby making endeavor. It's like when you are super excited to go hiking. The whole time you're super excited to go, drive there, it's all so very fun as you wander through the woods, everything is magical! Then the little annoyances begin, you get a little sunburn, it's kind of hot out, you accidentally squat in some poison ivy and you realize you have to walk alllll the way back to the car which is really, really far away now. Then you ask yourself why?! Why am I putting myself through this torture?! (I feel like that was a terrible metaphor but I know what I'm getting at)
The second major player is my stupid 10 year high school reunion. Which I can't decide is a big deal or not. Like on the one hand I don't really care because I really don't think anyone there really give two shits about me or my life, I'm definitely NOT going to get any disappointed looks. If people even remember who I am it would probably be more like "Wow! You're not dead! Good for you!" Or it will be people who are already my Facebook friends and they will be like "Please...stop posting about your leg hair and other weird stuff. It creeps me out. And why are you wearing a wig right now?" On the other hand, it would be cool for people to talk to me. It would be even more awesome if a bunch of people could maybe act like I'm super cool with my super cool blogging and maybe mention that a lot. And I will pay you,if you do that, if I have money. Deal? DEAL! Wow that feels so good to get off my chest.

well until next time my little wombats.

Pissy Point Provers

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

Later gators.