True Loyalty

I think it’s funny when people all of a sudden become a fan of someone/something. Enter Tim Tebow, Jimmer, and the 49ers. Granted, I have been a 49ers fan my entire life, so it may seem I am a part of this group of people. (If you need proof, I will post pictures of myself in 49ers apparel at a young age.)

I realize Tim Tebow has had some amazing come backs this year and taken Denver 7-1. However, if I see one more person “Tebow” to God, I will punch them in the face.  Also, the water cooler talk at work regarding Tebow needs to stop. Where is your loyalty to hating a certain team people?? Hasn’t the ignominy of the Colts season this year proven to you, that ONE person can make a team look good?? (And yes, I right clicked/synonym on the word embarrassment to get the word “ignominy” to look smarter)  Where will all you new Denver “fans” be when Tebow gets injured and the Broncos start losing? Probably jumping onto the Niners bandwagon.

To sum up my loyalty of hating, I will give you one more example. I hate Diet Pepsi more than water. (That’s A LOT!!) If Diet Pepsi all of the sudden turned my pee into gold, I’d STILL drink Diet Coke. Why? Because I am a LOYAL FAN!  

Thank you for your time.

Please send money.

A Little Holiday Song

What would the holidays be like without a post from me complaining about all the things I don’t like about them? Well it wouldn’t be the holidays! That’s for sure! I’ve written a little song about Walmart this Christmas Season. You’re welcome.

On the first day of Christmas Walmart gave to me, a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the second day of Christmas Walmart gave to me, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the third day of Christmas Walmart gave to me, 3 “special” greeters, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the fourth day of Christmas, Walmart gave to me, 4 screaming kids, 3 “special” greeters, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the fifth day of Christmas, Walmart gave to me 5 car door dings! 4 screaming kids, 3 “special” greeters, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the sixth day of Christmas, Walmart gave to me six Chuck Norris t-shirts, 5 car door dings! 4 screaming kids, 3 “special” greeters, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the seventh day of Christmas, Walmart gave to me, 7 backed up toilets, six Chuck Norris t-shirts, 5 car door dings! 4 screaming kids, 3 “special” greeters, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the eighth day of Christams Walmart gave to me, eight cashiers nursing, 7 backed up toilets, six Chuck Norris t-shirts, 5 car door dings! 4 screaming kids, 3 “special” greeters, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the ninth day of Christmas Walmart gave to me, nine ladies stealing, eight cashiers nursing, 7 backed up toilets, six Chuck Norris t-shirts, 5 car door dings! 4 screaming kids, 3 “special” greeters, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the tenth day of Christmas Walmart gave to me, ten creepers creeping, nine ladies stealing, eight cashiers nursing, 7 backed up toilets, six Chuck Norris t-shirts, 5 car door dings! 4 screaming kids, 3 “special” greeters, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the eleventh day of Christmas Walmart gave to me, eleven lines to stand in, ten creepers creeping, nine ladies stealing, eight cashiers nursing, 7 backed up toilets, six Chuck Norris t-shirts, 5 car door dings! 4 screaming kids, 3 “special” greeters, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

On the twelfth day of Christams Walmart gave to me, twelve butt cracks showin, eleven lines to stand in, ten creepers creeping, nine ladies stealing, eight cashiers nursing, 7 backed up toilets, six Chuck Norris t-shirts, 5 car door dings! 4 screaming kids, 3 “special” greeters, two drunken bums, and a nasty case of hepatitis B.

Back to Panhandling

I started my new job when sales where BOOMING! I made more money my first month on the job than I had in years. It only got better as the following months went on. And then October happened….. {Insert crickets chirping here}

Yesterday, I made 119 phone calls. Of those 119 phone calls, I got two, count them TWO sales!!! I WAS REJECTED 117 TIMES!!!! In ONE DAY!!

Do you know what that does to ones self esteem? This sales stuff messes with your mind more than watching an episode of Jersey Shore does! Show me a person who enjoys a .02 success rate other than Kim Kardashian’s marriages, and I will give them .02 percent of my sales yesterday! (It’s not much! Don’t get too excited!)

With this in mind, I’ve been reminded that I am still waiting for everyone’s money to start filtering in. I started this blog in April and not one of you has paid up. Or gotten me on an episode of Ellen. Is it going to really take me dressing up in a pink tutu and singing a Nicki Minaj song to land me a spot on her show? Or is one of my friends going to step it up and follow through on their end of the deal?

Maybe I should aim lower and start with landing a spot on Chelsea Lately instead. I do love her show more than I like most people, but I don’t know what I’d do about the whole Chuy situation. You all know my fear of midgets…..

**side note: I’m only partially kidding about all of this.

Dear Diary.........

I was thinking to myself earlier today that I hadn’t written a blog post for a while. So of course, I sat with a blank look on my face and stared off into space for a good 32 minutes about what I could write a post about. Turns out, I just looked like an idiot staring out into space and came up with nothing.

How do I not have anything to talk about? I’m usually the one with an opinion (usually negative) on everything! So far this month, I’ve voiced my concerns about Facebook threatening to charge, complained I couldn’t find Halloween cereal anywhere, and announced to the world I puke when I get nervous. (I also may have lied about my age in this status, but that’s not a big deal.)

So then I started thinking a little harder (which is never really a good thing for me to do) and wondered how we ended up here. No dummies, I’m not wondering how we got here, despite what my mom thinks, I know all about the birds and the bees. I’m wondering how we got to the point that our every thought has to be poured out in some huge Facebook Status, or that we can’t deal with our feelings unless we write them down in a blog post for the world to see? Do people still keep private diaries? I know I never did, but I can imagine my diary being a lot like my Facebook posts….

July 16, 2010: Do I seriously have to listen to these stupid neighbor boys light fireworks ONE MORE NIGHT??? I HATE KIDS!!

April 29, 2011:  Had a great day at work, I didn’t say one bad thing about anyone today!!

September 27, 2011: Flipped my neighbor off today! I’m not even sorry!  

And lets not forget my claim to fame:

April 23, 2010: Just saw a deer completely castrated on the side of the road!!

Looks like I was able to come up with something to talk about for a blog post! To make a point to this post, I think its funny that we all have decided to take our “diaries” viral. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy Facebook and blogging and will probably continue to do it until like I said, they start charging. Social networking has actually turned out to be a pretty good thing for me. (I’m pretty sure Chris will disagree seeing how I online stalked him and forced him to be my boyfriend, he’ll get over it one day though.)

Shits and Shingles Fundraiser Walk

My brother is one of the nicest guys I know. He is such a patient, kind, and generous person.

But this blog post is about my other brother, Brock; a victim of Shits and Shingles. What is Shits and Shingles you ask?? Shits is street slang for IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome).  Shingles, is a disease Brock, along with many other 75 and older humans, suffer with 2-3 times a year. Shingles is a form of the chicken pox, only it shows up in awkward patches on your body making it unbearable to touch and awkward to be seen in public. It is unfortunate there are so many who suffer from both.

 

Brock has been suffering from a shortage of bathrooms and porta-potties for years! I believe it is time we step up and make a difference for those suffering from Shits and Shingles. Please join me, along with many senior citizens, on June 22^nd 2016, in the first annual Shits and Shingles walk. This walk will be a half mile walk in the park, with 225 porta-potties along the route. There will be 3 rest stops containing Percocet and Immodium incase any flare ups take place for those walking and are victims of Shits and Shingles. (Crap bags available upon request for those with severe cases.)

Money raised will go towards providing 7-11’s across the country with better toilet paper, as a thank you from the many run ins they have had with Shit’s sufferers who couldn't quite make it to work. Also money will be used to provide a number of porta potties along the freeway, for those moments when the shits just won't wait for an exit. Funds will also be donated to help find a cure for victims like Brock, with Juvenile Shingles.

A special thank you to the following sponsors:

Honey Bucket

Immodium AD

Depends

Pepto

Milanta

Prozac

Larry H. Miller
Snoop Dogg

Kool-aid for Sale!!!

                                                   

I decided the one disadvantage to owning an iPhone is that my kids think they own it. The second I pick them up after work they're on my phone. It's not "Hi Mom! I missed you!" It's "Mom... can I see your phone?"

I was ok with Angry Birds, Tiger Woods Golf and even some what ok with Talking Tom; the annoying cat that repeats everything you say in an extremely annoying voice. But lately I keep getting this message: "Your Siamese cat is finished breeding" and I'm thinking, what in the hell are my kids playing, and how much did this cost me??

Apparently, the iPhone app creators, a.k.a. people with no life, have come up with a pet shop game that allows you to breed animals and sell their offspring to make a profit for the pet shop. I was a little worried I was going to witness the actual conception and delivery part of the Siamese cat litter, but luckily, that isn't part of the game.

What is this world coming too? When I was a kid I worked hard for my entertainment and money. I had to go outside, find a REAL cat on the side of the road, wait 2 minutes for it to get raped by some homeless ally cat, and then try to sell those kittens for a REAL profit. My kids are lazy and have no ambition. Tonight, I'm going to make them sell Kool-Aid on the side of the road and teach them what real kids do!

I'm an entrepreneur in the makings....

When I grow up and I’m successful, I’m going to build an adult only store. Ok all you pervy mc pervasons, not THAT kind of adult only store…. I’m talking like an adult only Walmart kind of store. Except higher class, and with smarter/better looking door greeters. And they’d probably wear pink vests rather than blue. OH! And instead of the lame smiley face, the mascot would be a unicorn.

Anyway, the reason behind my genius idea simply stems from having taken 2 boys to the grocery and/or department store ONE too many times. Is it just me? Or does anyone else turn into the “Mom from Hell” at the store? This is just a snippet of my last outing with my kids: “Carter! Stop putting your brother in a choke hold! Gunner! Stop looking up the mannequins skirts! BOYS!! If you touch ONE MORE THING we are NOT going to McDonalds after this!” (A completely empty threat however, because they know as much as I do, I’m not cooking dinner after this escapade.)

The front doors of my store will say, “NO CHILDREN ALLOWED!!” It will be a store for parents to shop in peace, without having to; A. Yell at their own kids and B. criticize other parents for letting their children scream at the top of their lungs in the middle of the store without beating them in public.

Think of how much money you will save by shopping at Adults R Us. -yes I just thought of that name mid blog post- There will be no kids throwing extra food or toys in your shopping cart. I swear my kids can meticulously place these items in the cart that I seriously don’t realize they are there until I check my receipt at home only to realize I’ve just purchased a $24.95 As Seen On TV item. Oh wait, that was the time I purchased a Shakeweight…. Scratch that, my bad!!

I’ll be collecting donations for my store starting today. Some of you Debbie Downers out there will tell me this is what online shopping is for. Don’t tear down my dreams; just give me your money!

Kudos My Hero, Leaving all the Best.....

My blog posts tend to have a lingering sense of negativity to them. Maybe it's because I'm still holding a grudge in life for never winning anything at the silent auction games all these years. I always guess the highest price and when I so call "win" the stupid thing, they want me to pay for it. That's lame!  Is this not the price is right??

Oh well, who knows where the negative side of me stems from. All I know is it's gotten me this far in life. Why change now?

But through my thick headedness and cynicism, I do have a soft spot or two in my heart. And right now, one of those soft spots is taking charge of my thoughts.

When I was a little girl, my favorite movie in the entire world was Winnie the Pooh. And my favorite place to watch it was cuddled up next to my Gramps. The day the VHS of my favorite movie broke was the worst day of any four year olds life! But Gramps came to the rescue and fixed the tape good as new! A hero was born in my eyes that day and 23 years later, I still see him as that. My hero. And not just becuase he fixed my Winnie the Pooh tape, but because he is by far one of the best men I know.

I've never left the presence of my Gramps without the chance to have heard one of his life stories. The man can talk about himself for hours. (right now my mom is singing, "Oh Lord it's hard to be humble") But even after hearing the same stories over and over, I never get tired of listening to him and soaking in his words of wisdom. Or listening to him recite some sort of poem that makes no sense to me, but sounds so perfect because of the way it can flow so effortlessly out of his mouth.

Over the past few years I've watched my Gramps battle cancer. I've watched him remain strong and encourage us as family members that everything would be ok. And through the ups and downs of the long road called cancer, he has continued to stay positive. Never getting down for a second. I think of how many times a day I mumble under my breath at how tired I am, or how bad I have it when in reality, I have it so easy.

I could go on and on about the times spent on the front porch swing watching humming birds with Gramps. Or the memories of him playing his elaborate collection of guitars and singing "every-time I go to town, them boys keep kickin my dog around" or some other old folk song he enjoyed.

I've gone through some pretty challenging trials in my life, and made some poor choices through them. My gramps has always been there to offer his advice without directing any judgment towards me and has always chosen to stand behind me and support me 100% in any decision I make. There have been so many times I've needed a shoulder to cry on and Gramps is always there to listen. And these days, if he gets tired of listening to me complain, he can just turn off his hearing aids!! ;) I am honored to have such a great man as a grandpa. You get better soon!! Love you Gramps!!

Another postcard from chimpanzees....

A friend invited me to the zoo a while ago. I hate the zoo. If I were to describe what the Hogle Zoo smells like, I'd say it stinks like a big ball of stinky elephant dung rolled in camel spit and pooped on by a chimpanzee who ate bad Mexican food the night before.

Why people enjoy walking side by side with others to look at caged and smelly animals is beyond me. And to make it worse, I always get stuck next to the crazy mom who has her kids on a leash when we are looking at the zebras and have to hear things like this: "no Windsong Bird Feather, (her granola childs name) Zebras are white with BLACK stripes!" Or "oh look Mary Jane! The Zebras are playing leap frog!" 

With my heightened sense of stress overwhelming me because I feel like I'm literally in Hell, it takes every ounce of energy to not slap that mom in the face then tell little innocent Mary Jane that those Zebras are NOT playing leap frog, they are making a baby. A little stinky zebra baby! So it too can live in a cage and have no privacy too poop, sleep, eat and play "leap frog."

Please don't think I'm some big "animal rights" hippie now. I just REALLY don't like the zoo. My kids won't be missing out either, they can watch the same thing from the comfort of my 68 degree home that smells like a cinnamon scentsy on Animal Planet! 

Diet Schmiet!!

There aren't too many things I'd say I'm successful at. In fact, the only thing I can even think of I am successful at is spending money on things I don't need. Like the shake weight, zumba for the Wii, protein shake mix..... Are you seeing a pattern? (although I'd totally buy a thighmaster if I ever run into one again! That Suzanne Summers had some hot legs!)

I've never been a very disciplined person. I've never had the motivation to run a marathon or climb Mt. Everest, hell; it's an accomplishment to climb my stairs! But I do get on these crazy health kicks from time to time and think "hey! I'm gonna work out and get healthy!" I'll lay in bed at night and plan my meals for the next day, and even convince myself I am going to wake up early and work out. Below is an outline of how those days pan out:

5:00 rolls around, my alarm goes off. "It won't kill me if I only work out for 45 minutes instead of an hour, I'll just hit snooze once.... 9 minutes later "a half hour is better than nothing!" snooze again.... 9 minutes later "Forget the gym" I think. "I'll do it after work." I hit snooze 3 more times, finally force myself out of bed, and get ready in record breaking time. I do however, remember I'm on a diet so I grab something healthy and head out for work.

By noon I've only managed to snack on 8 unsalted almonds and a string cheese so I reward myself with piece of grilled chicken and side salad and maybe a Hershey Kiss for lunch. By the time 5:00 rolls around, people are literally questioning if that loud noise is from my stomach, or the organ in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I stop at the gas station and spend $25.00 on anything and everything in sight because if I don't eat NOW I just might die of starvation! Ethiopians have eaten more than me today! The gas station attendant can see the desperation in my eyes and gives me an extra Slim Jim for free.

I make it home just in time for the guilt of the drive home binge to set in and decide to cancel the Papa Johns order I placed on my way home and settle for whatever it is my neighbor Saunie has made, because there's no way I'm eating that salad for dinner I’d planned out the night before!

By bed time I've either spent the entire night at the baseball park or laid on the oversized lovesack and watched Dexter all night and completely forgotten about my plans for the gym. I crawl in to bed determined tomorrow will be a better day......

5:00 rolls around, the alarm goes off, and instead of snooze, I just reset the whole damn thing to 6:30. Wake up, get ready and grab a package of Hostess White Powdered Donuts (which I'm convinced are laced with crack) and a diet coke from the Mav, because dieting is for the birds!!

My arms hurt!

Is it just me or does anyone else lay in bed at night playing on their phones? Checking the last Facebook or twitter comments for the night, finishing a game of words with friends etc.... Like you just might not sleep as well if you don't see that someones posted that their kid took a crap on the "big boy potty" before you doze of into a nights slumber. And all the while you've already taken your contacts out, forcing your arms to scrunch up to the equivalent of a Velociraptor to get your phone close enough to see it, just to drop it on your face a couple times.

Heaven forbid you sit up to finish the ever so unimportant task you're putting more effort into than you do all day at work. Right? 

As my arms begin to feel as if they may either; A. Stay in this awkward position forever or B. Fall off, I decide I like the length of my wingspan. I send a couple of texts, check my email and set my alarm, just in time to drop my phone on my head one more time! 

Please tell me I'm not alone in this. And if I am, welp, I've done more embarrassing things and I don't really care! 

In your FACE June Cleaver!!

It’s no wonder I hate dramatic people. If I cried as a child my dad would beat me. Ok, maybe not beat me, but he sure as crap wasn’t going to put up with any sort of whining. Unfortunately my kids have to put up with me having the same approach at parenting. When they fall down and get hurt I’m yelling at them to rub some dirt on it, or to suck it up and be a man! Yes, I know they are only 9 and 5. I’m the mom in the stands at a baseball game that screams “There’s no crying in baseball!” Which would be ok, but I have a bad habit of yelling that at other people’s children too. The opposing team is never excluded from this either.

I’m ok with the weird stares from other parents as I tell my kid to walk it off after being pegged in the head with a baseball. I may not be the best role model to my kids, or even be very sympathetic but my kids like me.  At the end of Carter’s baseball game a few weeks ago, my mom and I brought the kids pizza and cupcakes to celebrate their win. One of the other players said to Carter, “your mom is so awesome!” Carters reply to this was “yeah, I know! And she’s not even 30!”  

Who knows what will happen to their opinion of me 3 years from now when I turn the big 3-0. At that point Carter will be close to being a teenager and will hate me anyway. But for now, I’ve got 3 years left of my children reminding the world I’m not 30. Let’s just hope not too many of them are very good at math and figure out how young I was when I had Carter…

A big confession....

Sometimes in life we make mistakes. Sometimes in life, those mistakes happen to be big enough that they haunt you forever. I'm not talking about the time I dyed my hair green or got caught ditching seminary. Or even my 6th grade photo with one overall strap hanging down. While those are valid mistakes and the hauntings will never go away, I'm talking about a bigger issue here. 

Tonight I took my kids to Walmart. (again, not the mistake I'm about to talk about) While we were there I somehow managed to get talked in to buying a movie.... I can't even admit this without feeling like a total failure of a parent. In fact, someone may need to turn me in to social services. I bought....(I'm getting sick) Never Say Never, the Justin Bieber movie.

I feel like such a sale out! After all the times I have mocked this movie and all who have seen it, I, of all people, paid 13.97 and bought the movie!! I feel like I've let down anti Bieber fans across the world. I think this is how I'd feel if I ever cheated on Oreos with the western family brand. 

And now I live with this mistake on my shoulders. Similar to every other mistake I've made in life. From thinking I could pull off a Jennifer Aniston hair style in the late 90's, to saying yes at my first wedding. This purchase will forever haunt me for not standing for what I believe in, a Bieber free home!! The only positive side to this purchase is that for once, I own a movie that didn't start out as a dollar rental from Redbox!!

Things that must go....

X-96 use to feature their list of things that must go. I miss this bit. Why they steered away from it I will never know. Over the past few days, I've compiled my own list of things that must go. 

1. Hair flair! Specifically feathers. I don't see why people want to look like they had a head on collision with a parakeet on their way to work. Whats next? We start putting fish scales on our domes? We are humans, let's focus on what we have people and leave the poultry to be eaten, not flat ironed!!

2. That stupid firework song by Katy Perry . No explanation needed.

3. Coupon Nazis. Look, I'm all for saving a buck, but not when it makes me look like some hoarder who's probably been digging through their neighbors garbage can for old newspapers. 

4. FB posts with no definition of your life issues ie: :( or "I'm so sad!" how the hell do I laugh at your dramatic and depressing life if I don't know why you're upset? (Same rules apply with :) or "I'm so happy!!")

5. Dancing sign holders. I swear one day I'm going to kill someone because I'm watching some dude do the Rodger Rabbit while spinning a sign on one finger and juggling with the other hand, because I'm not paying attention to the car in front of me.

I realize I'm in no way perfect, and my words are often full of cynicism, but like I've said before, if you disagree that's ok by me, just be prepared to be laughed at!

I could sale a ketchup popsicle to a woman wearing white gloves!

I started this blog because I had come to the point in my life where I decided I was virtually going nowhere in life in terms of a "career." I've spent the last couple of years as an accounting clerk. I'm about as good with numbers as Kirsty Alley is at weight loss! 

I had high hopes of some rich and famous person stumbling across my blog and paying me to write witty and pointless blog posts for their entertainment. I'm still holding out for this. However I've ventured into the world of sales for now. 

I can't really say I'm good at this new job, only being two weeks in to it, but I can say that I'm a better sales rep than accountant. You see, in accounting, there's a lot of hard work, a lot of focus, and a lot of dedication that has to go into your day. With sales, I'm on a call for a few minutes, they either say yes or no, and I'm on to the next person. It's the perfect job for my length of attention span!!

I can't guarantee I'm going to be the best sales woman my job will ever see, but what I can guarantee is this: I will always alway ALWAYS put in a solid 78% at work! And once this blog thing goes viral, I'll put in a little less.... I won't quit though, I need the insurance!

{side note to avoid termination: I really do love my new job and vow to put in 99%, 87% of the time! Nobody likes an overachiever.} 

Third Grade English

I’ll be the first person to tell you my attention span is that of a nat. This could potentially be my biggest downfall. I realize I’m giving myself more credit than I deserve by deeming my short attention span to my biggest downfall, however, if I’m not able to talk myself up on my own blog, what good is it?? My oldest son Carter is out playing baseball with my dad right now while I’m trying to rummage up some creativity to help him with his final book report project for the third grade. Somewhere between my negligence to academics and his dad’s laziness, Carter developed an interest in school, particularly reading. My favorite book always was, and still is, One Fish Two Fish, Red Fish Blue Fish, by Dr. Seuss. Why? Because that’s really all my attention span can handle, well that it’s short, sweet, and it has lots of pictures. If ever I had to do a book report in school, I made sure it had already been made into a movie because there was no way I was going to sit down and actually read How to Kill a Mockingbird.

Carter chose to do his final book report on, How to Speak Dragonese. The third book to the, How to Train your Dragon series. I was pretty excited when he decided that he was going to do his project on this book because he’s seen that movie!! YES!! A child after my own heart! Only to find out, that the book he’d chosen, was the THIRD book. Not the first one. Therefore, no movie, which means, my help on this project is going to be about as constructive as a midget working in a big and tall store.

I wish I were one of those moms who had the ambition to sit down and read the same books as her kids to be of more help on projects like these, and maybe one day, I’ll consider venturing out to books on tape or something, for now I’ll continue to wait for the movie to come out, take my boys to it and shove my face full of popcorn before discussing the book with them. My kids may want to seriously consider tutors down the road!!

Everybody loves Kaycee!!

You know the old saying “When the cat’s away, the mice will play?” As the assistant office manager at Sportsmans Warehouse, I got to witness some pretty funny things when the Loss Prevention team would call myself and the office manager (who happens to be one of my best friends) up to the cameras to see what went on in the stores when no one was there to take charge. I think the funniest video I ever watched was when Kaycee Bruno’s boyfriend Austin -who was conveniently working the same shift as her that night- decided to put her under a boat and sit on it so she couldn’t get out. Trying to rummage up the seriousness to tell them this was NOT ok was a bit challenging for Brittany and I that day. I remember she and I giggling like little school girls at the creativity of the stunt and laughing at the fact that Austin had actually convinced her to climb UNDER the boat to begin with. Needless to say, it was never a dull moment when working with Kaycee.

I’m sure it’s no shock to anyone that I had my fair share of playing around when we should have been working. *refer to post 1 if this actually is shocking to you* I remember playing hide n go seek with Kaycee and a few others throughout the store when times were slow. I’m pretty sure I was hiding in the fitting room once for a good 25 minutes waiting for Kaycee and a few others to find me. They’d given up and decided not to say anything and just let me be. (thanks jerks!) Working retail isn’t exactly entertaining, but Kaycee always managed to make it fun! She is one of the happiest and sweetest people I know!! I’m so happy we got to work (or pretend to work) together and get to know each other!!

Royal Shmoyal: Is the wedding over yet??

I don’t quite understand why there is so much publicity about this Royal Wedding. First of all, we live in the United States, last I heard, this event was taking place in London. (not that I know where that is) So why are they flooding our precious celebrity gossip magazines with pictures of Will and Kate, and her all too much blue wardrobe?? Those spaces should be limited to the people who have a direct impact on the readers…. I need my Lohan fix!! What’s going on with Britney? MICHAEL JACKSONS DEAD???? All things I’ve been deprived of because OK, People, USWeekly, and Star magazines have been filled with page after page of guest lists, announcements, wedding attire, menu’s and other useless wedding information pertaining to nonresident celebrities! I should be completely left in the dark about these people, instead, I know all too much!

Here is what I know of the Royal Family:

·         Diana was BFF’s with Elton John

·         She died and Elton revamped goodbye Norma Jean to say goodbye England’s Rose which TOTALLY threw me for a loop when I tried to sing along.

·         She had two kids with HUGE teeth. Will and Harry

·         Harry is in the Army or something

·         Will is marrying Kate (the one who needs to add more color into her life)

·         Fergie is not invited to the wedding

·         Neither is the real Fergie, because every time the Royal family tries to come around, her London, London bridge wanna go down.

·         Will and Kate are getting married on my dad’s birthday, personally, I think there should be more coverage on him than these two.

I apologize if any of you have purchased “Royal Wedding 2011” paraphernalia like the Will and Kate Paper Doll set pictured above and I’ve offended you for any reason. Actually, if you’re that pathetic and have bought anything like this, you deserve to be offended and know I’m laughing at you.

Restroom Manners

We have a coed bathroom at work but there is a lock on the door so only one person occupies it at a time. This isn’t like Ally McBeal where men and women actually share the same restroom, opening opportunities for a little afternoon delight between co-workers in the stalls. It’s more of a private bathroom really, just available to both men and women. As I was walking into the bathroom today, creepy Chuck (whose name has been altered in case he ever stumbles across this blog) decided to come and have a conversation with me. I continued to inch myself closer to the door as my 44 ounces of diet coke had reached the point of no return in my 15 ounce sized bladder. Creepy Chuck kept inching closer to me, continuing to talk about how he needed something done and blah blah blah, at that point, all I could focus on was how I was going to keep my bladder from exploding and how to get away from his jagged yellow/grey teeth!! I’d inched myself close enough to the bathroom that I was finally beginning to push the door open; Still talking and walking towards me as if he was going to follow me in there to continue our worthless/going nowhere conversation, I finally just went in the bathroom and slammed the door shut while staring him down with the look of death in my eyes. It should be a common courtesy that if someone is walking somewhere and you even think they might  be walking into the bathroom, that you don’t strike up a conversation! Don’t even talk to them! Don’t even make eye contact with them!!  Assume they are an alien from Mars and any indication you have acknowledged their presence, will result in you bursting into flames!!! (I think I’ve made my point here)

Where is Hawaii??

Some people are particularly passionate  about Geography, I don’t want to judge, but I think those people are boring. Due to my lack of interest on this topic, I can undeniably say I either; A. Slept through or B. wrote notes to my friends during these classes in school. I give partial credit to any passing grade I may have skimmed by with in Geography, to Marty Ellis -someone who actually cared about learning and worked hard for his grades- for letting me copy his homework and test answers. The rest of my passing grade came from my perfected schmoozing skills with the teachers. It’s hard not to give someone extra credit just for bringing in a favorite drink or candy bar when you’re as charming as myself. Arrogant of me to say? Probably, but this is a blog with morals! And by that, I mean a blog full of pure honesty! I’m sticking to my statement.

The reason for this post is simply this: I didn’t care about those things then, and I still don’t 10 years later. (Did I just age myself? If so, I meant 4 years later!) Last year my best friend Lindsay and I decided to take a girls cruise to Cabo San Lucas, because we love the smell of cheap tequila and burning Cabana boy skin in the morning. Ok not really, it was the cheapest cruise porting out of San Diego at the time. About a week before I was leaving I was talking to a co worker about his trip the same week to Hawaii. He mentioned his plane would be flying over our cruise ship and maybe he’d drop the sewage on us as a gift from above. I looked at him all sorts of confused. “Why would your plane fly over us? We are leaving from San Diego, you’ll be going through Florida?!” I say.

As nicely as he could without pointing out I was a geographical disgrace to the teachers of Riverton High School, he replied “Hawaii is NOT by Florida Meg, it’s by California.” And then he proceeded to grab a map and give me a geography lesson to which I politely tuned out by singing “I’m in Miami Bit**” by LMFAO in my head. I may have done a little head/shoulder jig as he was talking too. I had Florida on my mind at this point, and what can I say? That song has a good beat that you can’t help but dance to. At least I knew Miami is in Florida!!

Needless to say, Geography?? Not my thing. Tuning out important information to help me later in life?? Now that’s something I’m good at.

2 Witty Boys and a Crazy Driver (me)

My kids are pretty witty, I know they get it from me and not their dad, but due to legal purposes, I won’t get into my reasoning behind this. A few months back the boys and I were driving in my car and singing along to the greatest song on earth, “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey. I was belting “just a small town girl!!!! Livin in a LONELY woorrrlldd” at the top of my lungs, when my 8 year old says: “mom, why don’t you sing the girl part, and I’ll sing the boy part?” I paused for a brief moment and replied: “there is no girl part Carter…” without skipping a beat, Carter replies: “EXACTLY!” It’s pretty pathetic when even my kids realize I have no talent when it comes to singing. Or dancing, cooking… Driving etc. etc..…. Poor kids. It’s amazing they are (somewhat) normal.  

My oldest Carter is diabetic so sometimes life on the go can get a little tricky when we have to eat on the run. The boys and I had grabbed food on our way to the baseball park the other day. Diabetics get insulin for every carbohydrate they eat, so a hamburger, French fries, frosty and a root beer leaves his body screaming for a shot of insulin if he’s going to function as a normal human being for the rest of the day. He handed me his insulin and a syringe. I begin to draw up insulin in a syringe as I’m driving down the road while balancing the steering wheel on my knee, (which I often do because heaven forbid I wake up on time to put my makeup on BEFORE getting in the car to drive to work! I value my sleep!!) As I’m skillfully performing a one man circus act in the driver seat of my Honda beater, Carter says “MOM!! Watch the road! Can’t you just drive like a normal person?” I’m thinking in my head “seriously kid? You should be impressed with these skills!” But before I can choke out some smart aleck remark, Gunner says “Uhh… Carter… You’re kind of asking a lot there!” I can’t even get defensive. It’s true, I am a horrible driver, hints the reason my car looks as if it has been entered into the Riverton City Demolition Derby 4 years in a row! I have however, (for 3 straight days now) been focusing a little more on my driving so the two back seat drivers will kindly keep their mouths closed!

Don't Hate Me for Having this Idea BEFORE You!!

I’d like to think of myself as having a little more class than standing outside with a cardboard sign that says “Will work for Food” written on it. I could even take it to the extreme and put my two kids in ratty old clothes and shoes two sizes too small and have them stand with me and write “2 kids to feed, I swear this money isn’t for booze” at the bottom of the sign. But, like I said I’m a little more classy than that. At least that’s what I tell myself.  I’m really not even desperate, I have a job, I’m just tired of living paycheck to paycheck. So the thought of panhandling has crossed my mind. However, I’m pretty sure that pretending to be a vagabond is frowned upon if you’re employed and have a place to live. See… I learned back in 2002 on a trip to San Francisco, that there are people who earn the right to sit out on the streets and beg for money. For example, men who paint their entire bodies in gold and pretend to be a statue just to jump out and scare someone, or  people who hide behind fake shrubbery and chase you down to scare you etc. Both things I witnessed on the great Pier 49 that trip. To me, that is comical, and I will gladly throw a dollar or two in those mens bucket. Then there are the un classy beggars with cardboard signs who should literally be gathered up by authorities and taken to the local Wal-Mart with all the other misfits in this world. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing more fun than a trip to Wal-Mart, and their prices really are hard to beat, but we’ve all wasted countless hours on company time searching through the pages of peopleofwalmart.com, for our own entertainment.

There's a few things you should know about me. First off, I wasn't blessed with the athletic ability of Michelle Wie, although I do enjoy golfing, it turns into a wild game of "who can hit a goose a** first" or “how many ‘that’s what she said’ comments can I make this round?” It’s obvious I’ll never be a professional golfer with my lack of seriousness on the course. Secondly, as a Kassing, it’s just not in my nature to go back to school and rummage up any motivation to actively seek a successful career for my future. We survive solely off our charm and if that doesn't work, we use our ability to baffle people with our bullshi*. Hard work and dedication are out of the picture. And last, I personally thought I'd have made a great replacement to Oprah, but Rosie beat me to the punch. And I can’t really compete with someone like Rosie, she could kick my butt in half a second if I even tried to fight her for the job. I think I have the wits to replace Ellen if she ever quits, but anyone who scares the crap out of Kelly Osborne with a ridiculously large version of Donkey Kong- mid interview- deserves a lifelong spot on prime time t.v. And let’s face it, I’m a horrible dancer.

So... where does that leave me? I want the luxuries of the rich, famous, and talented, but as mentioned above, I'm clearly not heading down those roads anytime soon. My ultimate goal is to get rich doing absolutely nothing but writing on this blog. “Why not write a book?” you ask… well, that requires a lot of work, and if you remember as confirmed earlier in this post, I’m just not cut out for that.  This is the only solution feasible for my work ethic. Solution equals this:  I have 400+ ”friends” on Facebook, if they all read my blog and at least laugh once, they should send it to their friends and their friends friends etc etc. so they can do the same, then the whole thing will blow up, go viral on the web, people will pay me to advertise on this thing, and before you know it, I'll be the next Rebecca Black, making a million dollars for some dumb idea because people can't help but pass along useless forms of entertainment and say: "Look at this girl?? She's crazy! I can't stop watching/reading this stuff!"  Yes I realize this is not exactly a realistic goal, and I'm ok with that. At the end of the day if all I've done is created a blog, well, that's one more thing I've accomplished in life. And so, in the mean time, I'll share a few adventures of my life and dream about what could happen if I actually had the ability to make money for my thoughts, and hope to bring a smile to someone's face, even it if it just from indigestion! This my friends... Is my way of Panhandling with Class!