Turn Down For Whhaaaa?

A few weeks ago I went out with mah friends for a girls night out and someone asked "Are your friends not fun?" directed towards me and my other friend. WHAT?! Me?! Not FUN?! Are you freaking kidding me? I'm the most fun person you'll ever meet, bitches. So why was this poor, half cocked girl so confused to assume that I am NOT fun? Was it drugs? Does she need an intervention? Does she need to be called out in a blog that she doesn't know about but someone might show her someday? You bet your sweet ass she does. As I contemplate what possible way I would ever be seen as not fun, I guess there were a couple reasons I came off as a little..ahem.."not fun" last night. Here they are!

1. I was driving. There were a lot of people out, I was driving with like 3 other people in the car and I felt like being responsible. Sue me. I guess I'm just a great friend.

2. I've been trying to lose weight and I have been losing weight so my pants were really big which very much inhibits any twerking action I felt like partaking in. Kind of hard to pop, lock and drop it when you don't have a belt and your pants are constantly falling off. So yeah, once again, sorry for being so hot I guess. And too cheap to buy new jeans. They're expensive, ok.

3. There was like a ton of freaking people at the place we were at and sometimes I don't like rubbing up against random people when trying to get from point A to point B. I don't know what kind of diseases these people have, we don't know that Ebola didn't get it's jump off up in da club from sweaty people grinding on each other. Plus it might be really fun if you are some hard body babe trying to squeeze past a couple guys, they probably enjoy having your lady parts all up on their backs but when you have the extra curves which I have, you tend to just get a lot of dirty looks and feel in the way the entire time. So I rather sit, out of the way, and not get scowled at by guys who either want nothing to do with me or think I'm a bitch because I don't strike up conversation with them as my ginormous boobs slowly slide across their being on my way to the bathroom.

4. Actually you know what, forget number 4. I don't have to justify why I just happened to not be in the mood to socialize for one night.

By now you should know how ridiculously long it takes me to finish a blog post. Well thankfully this once took a couple weeks because the most mind blowing thing happened to me THIS weekend which goes hand in hand PERFECTLY with what I was talking about when I first started writing this. I feel like this entire post is going to either make me lose or win friends but I'm doing it. Seriously, my friendship needs to come with a disclaimer that says "If you talk to this person you may or may not end up on a blog that 35 people read."

So this weekend I was bombarded by the exact opposite reaction. Apparently I'm a freaking ride or die, guns ablazin', party all night, dance off pants off, ain't goin home til 6 in the mornin' type girl. At least that's the impression I have made on at least one person who I have never, ever met in my entire life. So how is it that I can be suddenly pegged as these two opposing profiles? Is it just these people have terrible judge of character? Has my secret double life finally been brought to light by a couple of Nancy Drews? No. not at all. It just goes to show that you shouldn't determine who a person is without at least getting to know them a little. You really can't rely on pictures and third party stories to give you insight on how a person lives their life. At least I come off as insanely interesting.

Love always,
Rac"Turnt Up"hel

Big Mouth Bertha

Sometimes I open my mouth aaannndd...word vomit. This happens a lot when talking to people for the first or second time. Everything starts off really well, make some small talk, ask them about themselves but then they, in turn, inquire about myself. "WEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL...... *20 minutes later* so the doctor says, get this, it's NOT dry skin! It's a fungal infection! *another 20 minutes* and that's the story of how I became a woman.......*10 more minutes* which is funny because my social security number is......*in closing* So to answer your question, here. I live here...."
So why do I do this, even when my mom warns me not to? Why do I think it's even a little bit appropriate to tell people embarrassing or non flattering tales of my life, when it would be easy to just keep my mouth shut? Do I have no self control? Well, by golly, I'll tell you!

One of the most important things about making a first impression, is to read the room. Where are you? What kind of people are you surrounded by? Is it a casual or a more professional setting? If I know I am in a more professional setting, I will be as professional as I can. So juuust this side of white trash... If it is a more casual setting or I have met the people at least once or twice before, I like to see how far I can push it.

I feel like telling a somewhat embarrassing story is fine, especially if you are telling it in a humorous light. Being able to take what could be a not ideal situation and seeing the humor in it tells you a lot about a person. It says this person doesn't take life so seriously, is fun, outgoing and more approachable. More likely to be invited to do things because they bring a little something extra to the party. Like drugs. Or hookers.

Usually I spend the first few minutes listening, I try to figure out who people are and what might fly with them. When around people you don't know that well, I try to make jokes that are blatantly obvious jokes. If I'm talking about my job I might say, "Oh yes. I work at *completely normal job* but I moonlight as a stripper. Now if you actually have a nice body, can do your makeup and appear to be somewhat flexible, this joke might not work for you. But for an overweight, 28 year old who has to give herself pep talks when bending down to pick up items, it's a lot funnier. If they laugh, you can go even more serious and without smiling say "What? Why is that funny?" Then everyone gets deer in headlights looks and you say "JUST KIDDING! I don't think they make strip poles thick enough to hold all this!" *motion to lava hot, couch potato bod*

Can I be crude? Yes. Does this sometimes backfire and blow up in my face? All the freaking time. Sometimes I misjudge or take things too far, surprisingly I'm not perfect. Being funny isn't always easy, you have to have a sharp wit and a quick tongue. (Obligatory "That's what she said") Unfortunately, humor can be very, very subjective. This is when trouble arises, recovering from one failed joke is hard enough, if this happens several times, you're on a sinking ship and that sucks. Some people just aren't going to think you're funny but whatever awful childhood incident led them to this sad, humorless adulthood is not your fault. I like to think that someday, somewhere, those people will be thinking back to our encounter and as they think about what an idiot I am, a smile will appear and that shit will be because of me.
You're welcome, you uptight jerk.

Well it's good to know that I am still an expert when it comes to starting a blog post on one subject and ending on another. I would go back and edit that but meeehhhhhhh.. it's kind of on topic.

Stay relevant suckas.

Life's like a box of chocolate...laxatives.

Yes. It's official. I had a Facebook status meltdown about infertility the other day. Am I proud? No, I am not. Did I do it for sympathy? No, I didn't. I did it because I saw something about babies that just tipped me over the edge and outbursts happened. I probably didn't need to put it out there for all my 200 some Facebook friends to see but it all happened kind of in a typing fury blur. Kind of like when you stub your toe on a coffee table and suddenly you just want to go full THIS IS SPARTAN on everyone and everything near you. So it happened and I posted it and I'm leaving it.

It is extremely, extremely hard to deal with life sometimes. I've said it before, I am not a religious person but I believe that yes, things happen for a reason. I don't mean like little piddly everyday dumb stuff. If I get flipped off by some jackass I don't think, "Oh well, he probably needed to get that aggression out somehow. Now he won't lash out at someone in his family." No, that guy is just an asshole but when it comes to life altering events, yes some of it happens for a legit reason. However, when you are in the now, dealing with all the heavy shit, it is very hard to see what kind of good is going to come of it. And sometimes, once you do look back and see what came of it you realize WTF. The outcome wasn't even that good! Who decided that it would be ok to have my damn cat ran over so I could learn a life lesson about loss?! I could of hit a freaking squirrel and learned that shit, it didn't have to be my cat. Drunk ass universe and your shit lessons.

So seeing the good in things when they seem completely stupid and unfair is super tough. Like this whole infertility thing, maybe there is a reason it's all messed up. I'm not implying that it's because we are not supposed to have children but maybe there is a reason it is taking longer and more effort than normal. I mean, it would be super freaking great if the universe would let me know it's reasoning behind this ordeal. I don't think it's too much to ask, honestly. Like maybe if we were meant to get pregnant on our own, it would have happened a long time ago. Like right when we started dating and I didn't know how babies were made so the rhythm method seemed like a pretty solid form of birth control. That would have really, really sucked if I would have gotten pregnant the first about 6 months of dating. That sounds bad to say but I was there and let me tell you, big hott mess. Not good.

Maybe something big is going to happen in the next year or month or even tomorrow that will really alter our entire view on what our lives are and what we are supposed to do in the world. Maybe I will be cast in a Marvel movie or maybe I'll procure an insignificant flesh wound from a knife fight at da club when I'm goin' hard. We don't know what the future brings but we can hope there is a reason things happen and that no matter the path, we will eventually end up exactly where we are supposed to be. How can I know this for sure? Because how I met my husband was the most unlikely, round about way that you could imagine. There was absolutely no possible way our paths would have crossed if not for the very specific way things happened. And everyone I have met who has had a major effect on me has occurred because of the way things happened beginning at that point in my life. Many of them I know I wouldn't have met in any other way and even if I did, I know that the connection that I would have had with them would not have been the same.

Moral of the story, things happen for a reason. Even if it's something really crappy and unfair and a total load of bull, you have to have faith in the universe or whoever you think has control over your fate, has your overall best future in mind. Of course don't expect you can just sit on your couch and good things will happen for you. You still need to work towards your goals, I mean I've done so much research on the female and male reproductive systems that I am confident if they ever form a Pen15 club in my area, I will surely be president of my chapter. So I've go that going for me.

Later gators.

Livin' Life in the Danger Zone or "It's not herpes, you a-hole!"

It's not always clear what is right and what is wrong but sometimes it's very, very obvious. Which makes it all the more messed up when you still choose the wrong thing. This is about the point I imagine religion becomes incredibly handy. Just ask the spirit in the sky, they can tell you what to do. Just pick up this book, it will tell you cautionary tales to use as metaphors for this exact situation. Unfortunately, being someone who isn't religious (or as my mom likes to say "a hell bound pagan") I don't have any kind of preset standard to live up to. I have to look to myself for advice and for some reason the universe gifted me with my very best friend in the world Lynsey. She is literally the only one other person in my life I feel like I can tell my deepest feelings to. She doesn't judge me, please take a second to acknowledge what an extremely heavy statement that is. Everyone judges everyone, but I honestly feel she doesn't judge me. I used to think I had other people in my life I could talk to but very recently it was made clear to me that not passing judgement is almost an impossible trait to come by. Which is fine, it's human nature to size someone up. But whenever I feel like I just have to talk to someone, it's Lynsey. Or myself. Which can end very badly.

It's not that I'm a bad advice-giver, I think I'm pretty good at it. It's just that I'm defiant as hell, I'm a bad advice-taker. Even to myself. I'm all "Hey. Be sure to look both ways before you pull out onto that street.." and then I reply "I WANT TO FEEL ALIVE!!" And pull out like a maniac without looking. Why? I have no freaking idea. Apparently I have some kind of death wish or want to ruin my life for some reason. Why do we do things that we know are dangerous or stupid? I tend to over think things, so I know perfectly well when I am about to do something completely idiotic. But I'm am damn good at convincing myself that the immediate satisfaction is worth the overwhelming risk that I do it anyways, knowing exactly what the consequences could be.

By this time you should know how much I love giving examples so here it is:
As you may or may not have read in previous posts, I have this issue with taking pointy objects to my face with the idea that it will make my skin look smooth and lovely. Not in a gory, horror film way but in a "I like to pretend I am some kind of dermatologist" kind of way. So the other night, I go to the bathroom and notice what appears to be a blackhead between my nose and my lip. A very sensitive place, mind you. I slowly reach for the X-acto blade and the 3-in-1 extractor tool from Sephora ($23, Sephora.com) and begin imagining my life without this nearly invisible to anyone but myself blemish.
Am I a trained professional? No.
Have I done this before? Yes.
Did it end badly? Of course it did.
So long story short, the next morning I woke up with a hideous lesion near my upper lip that looks, according to Google image search and strangers, like herpes. Needless to say I spent my weekend indoors, out of the public eye. I did, however, muster the courage to go to work on Monday morning, only to have my co-worker ask me, LOUDLY, what was on my face within 5 minutes of being there, in front of the whole world. Thanks, jerk. Also the husband had zero sympathy towards my plight and every time I would begin to pout and yell "LOOK AT IT. LOOK AT MY PAIN!" he would reply "WELL?! Stop taking knives to your face."

The moral to this story is: If you know something is a bad idea, you probably shouldn't do it. Because you might end up looking like you have herpes, or worse, you might get an actual STD.

School of Hard Knocks

Once upon a time, I was in a play. Yes, this is about Annie again. Last rehearsal, I had to actually sing my part in front of everyone. I chalked the audition nervousness up to being in front of a bunch of people I barely knew. Well turns out I have this GOD DAMN stage fright bullshit. Lines, would have been fine. Comedy, presentations, I can handle that but I just WANTED, PLEADED for this dang singing solo. How was I supposed to know I wasn't going to be able to sing in front of a ton of people? Besides the fact I can't even sing in my own house if someone else is home, or in front of my family, or my friends? Shocker! Now if it were a room full of my dogs, I'd rock the shit out of it. My dogs LOVE to listen to me sing. They follow me into my studio aka the guest room full of books, craft stuff, clothes and my keyboard squeezed in there and let me serenade them for hours. But I get in front of people, nice people who were probably looking at me very sympathetically but I didn't notice since I was too busy LITERALLY dying from embarrassment, and my mind decides it would be a great time to screw with me.

Brain- "Hey guurll heeeeyyyy"
Me- "Shut the hell up brain, I'm trying to concentrate!"
Brain- "Oh my bad! I just have something to tell you! Just real quick. Just REEEEAAALLLLLL QUUUIICCKKKKKK. REEEAAAALLL QUUIIICCKK, REAL QUICK"
Me- "Damnit! What?!"
Brain- "OK! SO! Remember that time....when we were really little...like 5 or 6...when we were in Girl Scouts? Remember we were doing that show? It was in that cabin at that park with the big lake? ....and we were like wearing that construction paper duck mask? ......and you had to say that line....."
Me- ".........don't you do it....don't you bleeping do this to me, brain....."
Brain- "Yeaaaah...remember that?...and we had to do that line...and we couldn't do it? And we just started crying REALLY HARD and couldn't breath...and that Natalie girl had to do our line for us because we were ruining the ENTIRE show? Remember that?! Yeah..so...THAT'S RIGHT NOW!!!!  STUPID LITTLE DUCKLING!!"
Me- *angry tears* "You the devil brain, you the devil."

Guys, it was awful. I just murdered it and everything from that point on, I was done. There was no coming back, any bit of confidence I had was shattered. I barely got through the rest of the rehearsal. A couple big hearted people told me I did a good job but compared to how I sound at home, singing with my dogs, it was horrible. I text my husband and told him what happened. His advice was to close my eyes and pretend they weren't there. That may have worked for Ray Charles all those years but I don't think I could pull that off. I wanted to quit. But I'm no quitter...hahaha just kidding, I quit halfway through everything. Fortunately or unfortunately, I made a commitment and I need to follow through. I guess I'm going to have to beg and/or pay some very patient and/or homeless people to sacrifice a few minutes of their time to help me get over this issue. Who knows, maybe I'll get my part taken away, which would be really awkward come Opening Night when I shank whoever takes my spot and use their blood as war paint as I belt out MY solo.
(Dear police, this is just a tasteless joke. It's kind of my thing. Please do not arrest me.)

Well I'm off to google "how many drinks do I need to overcome stage fright" and "cheap, high capacity bra flasks".  Stay thirsty my friends.

Drama Queen or How to Make Your Life Seem Like A Movie!

I have been called a drama queen for as long as I can remember. Not just because of the tantrums I have been perfecting for 28 years but also because I sometimes lose touch with "reality". Not really, but people think I do. It has come up more than once from my husband, several times in the pre-marriage counseling sessions we had in fact. "She thinks life is like some kind of movie!" Yeah, ok, I know life isn't a movie but shit man, it's way more fun to pretend it is. If it helps me get through the day then what's the big deal? So you might have to play along with it once in awhile, is it really going to kill you to go dance in the backyard under the supermoon for 5 goddamn minutes with me? Is it really going to disrupt your schedule that much to pretend we are running from the cops or doing a party montage to an, at most, 4 minute song?? You can't let me have one emotional charged monologue once every few months? Seriously world. Get the fuck over yourself and your reality.

How to make your like seem like a movie

1. Spend a day lounging around, don't do your hair or makeup, don't shower, wear sweatpants, be as gross as possible. Basically every Saturday in my household. THEN make plans to go out, take shower, do your hair and makeup, get dressed up and TADA! IS THIS SOME KIND OF UGLY DUCKLING TURNED BEAUTIFUL SWAN STORY?! LOOK AT HOW FABULOUS YOU ARE! MOVIE MAGIC!!

2. Go for a car ride with friends. Put on an awesome song such as "Home" by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. Have someone driving, wearing retro sunglasses, a passenger stare out the window at the edge of the road and power line poles, doing that little making waves thing out the window in the wind. If you have another friend, have them sit in the center of the back seat and do something funny and then all of you silent laugh at them. This makes a great beginning or ending to your brain film.

3. Have a dramatic "I just don't know what I am doing anymore" moment. This is easy because you can do this while in the middle of absolutely anything. All you do is close your eyes, put one hand on your forehead, the other on something nearby to keep yourself from falling over and quietly weep while moving your shoulders up and down in a dramatic fashion. Do it while: loading the dishwasher, doing laundry, looking at yourself in the mirror, cleaning, after yelling at your dogs for not getting the dance steps right, literally anytime.

4. Next is the "NO. I CAN DO THIS." moment. This happens sometime after #3. Do a heavy sigh, stand up straight, shoulders back and walk with purpose. Yes, YOU CAN! Don't do this while playing "Eye of the Tiger" in your brain jukebox though. That's so overdone.

5. Romantic scenes can vary, dancing outside in the moonlight, go outside and kiss when it's raining, lay in the grass holding hands.Since this involves another person, sometimes it's best to just skip this unless they are totally committed. Otherwise it will be half assed and stupid. What? I'm not bitter....I'M NOT.

All of these things should be done with a sweet, sweet soundtrack playing either in your head or with your phone.It's guaranteed to back your life more entertaining and slightly more bearable. Hell, take it one step further, and pull out "The Director". Anytime you are in a situation that you really rather not be in just yell "CUT! CHANGE SCENE!" and hustle away. No one will know what the heck is going on and you have just given yourself at least a 10 second head start. *Disclaimer* this spiffy move is best used for awkward social situations but not really events such as funerals, police interrogations, or anything else that is actually serious.

THE REAL WORLD: The Birds and the Bees

My family has an unusual way of...let's call it sympathizing...with me lately. As of this month we have been trying to get pregnant for over a year. The other day when my mom and I were talking about it she said something about how she didn't have me until she was 30 so it's ok if we waited. Lady, I've been trying to get knocked up for a year, keyword trying. It's not like I plan on waiting, it's just not happening. Then she asked something like "Well...are you doing it right?" Hooollldd up...what do you mean "doing it right", we actually have to do something?!?! Like together?!  In the same room?! WELL SHIT. I'm glad somebody finally explained things to me! Don't I feel foolish. Here I've been, 12 months, just sitting on the couch waiting for the immaculate conception!
Since I feel like I'm not doing something right...............................don't know why on Earth I would feel that way.....................*cough* I decided to PROVE it with statistics or whatever. So I restocked on ovulation prediction test strips, a basal thermometer and printed off charts to record everything. OH! So beautiful! So wonderful! This whole trying to get pregnant thing has officially become a pain in my ass. I shouldn't say that, I know there are people who try for years to get pregnant but for just a minute I want to bitch about it. So here it goes: this is ridiculous. It's a lot of work for something that is supposed to just happen. I'm pissy, I'm emotional and I don't give a fruck anymore. I don't want to go to the doctor, I don't want to have to take my basal temperature everyday, which you literally are supposed to do BEFORE YOU MOVE in the morning. I'm sick of catching my piss in a tiny shot glass size cup and dipping strips in it just to see once again I'm not ovulating. Last night I spilled it, yep that's right, I spilled my piss filled cup, all over my shorts, the bathroom rug, the floor. I'm sick of every month, not only getting to realize I'm not pregnant again, but then having mother nature kicking me when I'm down and giving me the most painful back cramps, front cramps, side cramps, Carrie prom scene in my pants, worst high school periods of my life. Oh hey girl hey! Guess what! You're not pregnant and also fuck you! Stab stab. Have fun with those khakis, stupid! AWESOME!

 Hiss. 

 So just to give fair warning, these are a couple of the things, that if said to me or any other woman trying to conceive, will eventually get you a punch to the throat.
1. Are you doing it right? < Insert part A into part B...You're right, this IS basically rocket science
2. Are you trying hard enough? <What does this even mean?!
3. You're trying too hard! Just relax! < Like chloroform relax? SH SHH SHH.. JUST BREATHE
4. Do you know you can't get pregnant or are you just assuming? <.....................................*PUNCH*
5. I knew a couple who tried for 463 years before they got pregnant. < Ain't nobody got time for that.
6. Is it you or him? <Actually it's you.
7. Maybe try a different guy! < This one, not funny. At all.
8. You're young still! < And you're still an ass
9. Well so and so stopped trying and 3 months later they were pregnant! <Oh really!? THANK GOD me and so and so opted for the 2 for 1 twin uterus special and we are exactly the same!
10. Show me how you're doing it....... *Creepy smile* < *creepy smile back* ....ok

Yes, I understand people are just trying to make me feel better and it's not like I don't want people to talk me but dammnnn. It's just hard to not to think it's my fault, which it is, in a way, my fault. I'm still in denial that there could be something not working right, you know, down there, my lady insides. I rather just pretend for awhile longer it's because I'm actually doing something wrong, not because I'm broken. YEAH YEAH YEAH I KNOW. "You're not broken" I don't want to hear it. Let's just talk about unicorns instead for a little bit, ok?

Byyee