What A Sucker

Saturday morning started out like any other. I woke up, made some coffee, and planted myself in front of the tv in hopes of an America's Next Top Model marathon. A' stayed over at his parents the night before so I was home alone. After an hour or so of channel surfing I get a call from A' wondering if I wanted to go with him and his mom to pick out a new computer. Sure, why not. Little did I know what I was in for.

Before we headed to Best Buy, we had to make a stop at PetCo for A's mom to buy something for her fish tank. As soon as you enter the building there is this crazy lady in hot pink stirrup pants facilitating the pet adoption table. Surrounded by yapping dogs, most of which were humping each other in a train, was a black and white shitzu with one eye and a mangled jaw. Let me preface by saying that A' is a sucker for animals, especially those who have been abused or neglected. I knew right away that I had to get him out of there before he stole all of the animals and set them free on a farm somewhere. I tried to rush them along with the fish food purchase, but A's eyes kept wandering back to the pet adoption corral.

After A' and his mom pet the dogs, we were finally on our way out the door... or so I thought. As soon as we sat down in the car A's mom says, "Did you see that little one with no eye? Man, I just feel so bad for her." A' responds, "I know, poor thing, I wonder what happened to her. I wish I could take her home and give her a good life." My internal dialogue, "No, no, no, no, no, no, please, no, drive, no, please, just, drive..." A's mom, "I know, I almost bought her!". A: "I wanted to too!" Then... they exchanged the look. It was all over. They both got out of the car.

So now, our happy little home is also home to a sweet, little, mangled puppy we've named Iris. It wasn't that I was opposed to this dog specifically, I was really opposed to the idea of a dog in general. We have two cats, recall? Yeah, our cats are not very happy with us, understatement of the year. My cat has definitely come around more than when we first brought Iris home, but she is still suspicious of our new addition. A's cat, on the other hand, is not havin' it. She is the spoiled princess of the house so this intruder is an unwelcome guest in her eyes.

Eventually everyone will get along, I'm just sure of it. All I know is that this lil pup will at least have a happy life from here on out, even if the rest of it wasn't that great.

I Can't Win...

It's really starting to feel like sometimes I just can't win. For the past two years now it's one thing after another after another... it's really getting ridiculous. I just wonder when my family, and me, are going to get a break. Anytime would be nice.

Two years ago, days before Thanksgiving, my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. A few weeks later, on the way to visit him in the hospital, my brand new car (and by brand new I mean it had 4 miles on it when I bought it 3 weeks earlier) was rear-ended by a drunk driver. The cops never showed up, we waited for 3 hours. We finally let the drunk lady leave and went to the police station ourselves to file a police report. That took another two hours. A couple of weeks later, 4 days before Christmas, my dad died.

All of this pretty much explains my dislike for the holidays. I never used to hate the holidays, but it's hard not to anymore. My dad dying has been brutal on my family. It's been a constant uphill struggle, mostly for my mom, and it's hard to imagine the day when all of us will be happy again. My mom and dad were together for almost 25 years. They were truly in love. My dad was the breadwinner of the family working every day in 100 degree heat doing construction. My mom was working as a preschool teacher for the school district, but as soon as my dad died work was the last thing on her mind.

At first, there was shock. My mom, really all of us, just kind of wandered around in a daze, not really sure how to progress. Soon, my mom found solace in her hometown which is about an hour north of where we live. She started staying there with her mom and my uncle pretty much every night for a year. During this time I didn't see her much, and I was also left, alone, in the house where we all used to live... with my dad. It was pretty hard.

When your parent is struggling, you immediately turn into the parent, and they become the child. It's a really hard situation, and one that nobody ever hopes for, you're more so forced into. During my mom's absence she also started drinking a lot. Before my dad died my mom rarely drank. I never even saw her drink at all until I was about 21, and event then it was very, very rare. Now, she was going out every single night, drinking with friends, staying up all hours of the night, drunk dialing me, driving home. It was unbearable. I couldn't decide whether to be concerned, mad, sad, angry, I just didn't know what to do.

Finally, my mom moved back home. And eventually I moved out with A', which in hindsight probably made things harder on my mom too. Her work was very understanding about her grief and basically told her if or when she wanted to come back she was welcome. We tried encouraging her to take the full-time position they offered her but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She was too depressed. I was basically funding her life. How do you tell your mom you can't help her with any money this month because you need her to get off her ass and get a job. Or because you know she'll just spend it on alcohol. It's pretty much impossible.

Things are starting to get a little better with my mom. She's finally decided to go to grief counseling next month so hopefully that goes well. But the past couple of years have been rough...

A couple of months ago, on the way to breakfast, a mini-van pulled out in front of me and I slammed right into them. Awesome. Two wrecks in two years. Not so much a brand new car anymore. That's been a huge headache that I'm still dealing with. I don't know how my insurance didn't total my car considering the damages totaled over $10,000. The car is fixed, my shoulder's not, the insurance is still giving me the runaround. I'm sick of it.

For the past six months or so my brother and sister-in-law have been trying for baby number 2. Baby number1 came unexpectedly, so we all assumed baby number 2 would be just as easy. Not the case. Months ago she had a positive home pregnancy test. We were all excited. By the time she went in for the first doctor's appointment she was no longer pregnant. A few months later, same thing. Positive home test, lost it by the time she went to the doctor. It was really sad, and frustrating. About a month ago we found out again that she was pregnant. This time they waited to tell us the news until after they had their first doctor's appointment. They heard a heartbeat, set a due date, and got a tini, tiny sonogram picture. We were all over the moon.

We were all hoping for a girl to add to the family, picking out our favorite names, spreading the good news. Wednesday I was over there visiting and noticed that she was starting to show. She was glowing. I was so, so happy for them that after two disappointments this time it was finally going to happen. Thursday they went in for their 10 week appointment. An hour or so later my brother texted me at work.

Brother: "Call me when you can."

Me: "We're super busy at work right now, I can call you when I'm off or you can text me?"

Brother: "We went in to the doctor today and there was no heartbeat :("

When is it our turn? When do we get a break?

When?

Holy Moly

First of all, I never get a chance to watch Oprah, but I got off of work early today.  However, I still missed most of it and dammit, it looked good.  It was about an entire family hooked on heroin.  Woah.  I love, love, love Intervention on A&E and for some reason am mesmerized by stories of drug addicts.  I'm not sure why.  Anywho... that was my first of all.  My second of all, is what the hell happened to Oprah.  I know she's packed on a few pounds but damn.  She's lookin.... rough.  She looks like she hasn't slept in 13 days (at least) and her hair is out of control.  Maybe she's having a bad day?  Anywho, gotta love Oprah.  She's a good lady.  And she has a pregnant mom addicted to heroin up next!  More later!

(I decided to post a good picture of Oprah instead of scary Oprah... see, this is what she's supposed to look like!)

Some things in my brain...

• I lost a pivotal round of the 5th grade spelling bee to the word "young".  That damn silent "u".
• Sometimes I think my mom looks like Cher.
• I wish I had six pack abs, bad.
• I want to run, far.  Really far.  I wish I could run a marathon, but the thought of me running a marathon makes me laugh... out loud.
• This year I want to somehow get involved in cancer research.  I could donate money, volunteer, I don't know... it never seems like enough.
• I've been questioning lately when one is too old for something.  It goes a little something like this: When are you too old to: do a beer bong, have a MySpace/Facebook account, use words such as "chill", shop at American Eagle (or other similar shops) or in the Junior's section, wear "trendy" jeans or sweat pants with words such as "cutie" or "juicy" on the ass, etc.  Feel free to share your insight.  
• I'm ready for a vacation.  I could use a beach.

Going Deep

I've been seeing the chiropractor regularly for a car wreck I was recently in.  My shoulder has been acting up like crazy, popping loudly at random and being really sore for no reason.  Twice a week I've been seeing the chiropractor for an adjustment and acupuncture and I've seen the massage therapist twice now to further my results. 

The first time I saw the massage therapist it was kind of awkward.  He was an older guy, really nice, just kind of awkward.  When I get a massage, I don't like to talk.  I just like to sit and relax... maybe drool a little.  This guy wanted to talk the entire time.  I couldn't complain though because he had hands from God and I definitely felt better afterwards.

The next time I went in to see the same massage therapist we were going over where the pain was now and how I felt after our last appointment.  I've learned from past massages that if you don't tell them exactly where it hurts, feels good, too hard, not hard enough that they'll never know, and in turn, it won't really be worth your time.  So, I made sure to tell him exactly where I was experiencing pain and that I preferred the deep tissue massage.  Here is how our conversation progressed from there:

Old Man Hands: "I went really deep in you last time, right?"

Me:  "Yeah, and it felt really good.  I liked it."

I almost peed myself trying not to laugh.  

Ah, the joys of inappropriateness.  

Lazy is my middle name

I have so much to do.  So much.  So why am I sitting here, in my Snuggie, eating chips and salsa, watching VH1's 20 Greatest Oscar Moments?  Thus is my life.  Here are things I should be doing right now:

1. Working out at the gym
2. Making dinner
3. Designing t-shirts for my friend's upcoming bachelorette party (which needs to be done soon!)
4. Designing a logo for my sister-in-law's parents new hair product they've developed (which should have been done about a month ago)
5. Writing editorial for a writing assignment I was given at work (due in two days)
6. Creating a presentation for work (due in 1 week)
7. Coming up with some sort of February festivity since I graciously volunteered to be the February social chair at work (Just say no Kate, just say no...)
8. Reading my new book (it's starring me down)
9. Hangin' out with my mama (she gets lonely)
10. Making cookies (I just want some, ok?)

But, here I sit.  Not being productive.  This is pretty much the common theme of my life. 

Enough is Enough!?

It is rare that I use the word "hate". There are only a few things in life that I can honestly say I hate. Paris Hilton, seafood, hospitals, small-minded people... that about sums it up. But right now, I'm on the verge of adding another one to that list. The Duggar's.

If you're not familiar with the Duggar family then I envy you. I wish I wasn't familiar with them, because the more familiar I get, the more that hate word keeps flying out of my mouth. Ok, I'll just put it out there. I hate the Duggar's. Let me explain.

The Duggar's are a conservative Baptist family from Arkansas that, quite frankly, don't know when to quit. The parents, Jim-Bob and Michelle (yeah, I just said Jim-Bob... as in Jim and Bob put together in an effort to sound as backwards hillbilly as possible) have 18 children. EIGHT-TEEN CHILDREN!!! I'll give you a moment to absorb that information...

I hope you're ok after that factoid because it only gets better. These 18 lovely children all have names starting with "J". Hate. Ready for this list of names? Grab a barf bag... here goes... Joshua, Jana, John-David, Jill, Jessa, Jinger (they must have really been pissed when they realized Ginger wasn't spelled with a J after all) Joseph, Josiah, Joy-Anna, Jedidiah (umm...yeah...), Jeremiah, Jason, James, Justin, Jackson, Johannah, Jennifer, and Jordyn-Grace. I don't know about you, but I'm nauseous.

So, my first real issue with the Duggar's is this... clearly when you have this many children you would not have enough time to give each child the love and care they deserve. If you're disagreeing with me right now I'd like to share this info with you- in the Duggar home, you have to put your name on a sign-up sheet, well in advance, for one-on-one time with mom. TIME WITH YOUR OWN MOTHER!? What in the hell is wrong with these people!? Yeah, they try to say that they get all the love that they need from not only their parents, but also their older "buddy" sibling. Yes, this family operates on the "buddy system". As in, an older sibling is paired up with a younger sibling, to basically do their mother's job that she can't do because she's too busy getting pregnant. All I know is that when I was growing up, if I had to sign up to talk to my own mother I certainly wouldn't feel loved.

My second issue with this family, is that these children are home-schooled. What!? I have nothing against home-schooling (well, I shouldn't say "nothing" against it...) but how in the sam hell can these children get a decent education at home??? The ages of these kids range from 1 month to 20 years, so I would sure love to hear how that works. From 8:00-9:00: kindergarten, 9:00-9:15: snack, 9:30-10:30: 1st grade- but since Ginger has viola practice this afternoon we have to combine 1st and 2nd grade, so if you're in 1st grade just try and keep up and if you're in 2nd grade you'll just have to be patient, from 10:30-11:00: the women prepare lunch while the men do yard work, 11:00-12:00: lunch, 12:00-12:30: women do dishes and clean up after lunch while men study the bible, 12:30-1:30: 3rd grade, 1:30-2:30: bible study- all grades, 2:30-3:30: 4th grade, well... looks like school day is over, sorry everyone only got an hour of school today and 1/2 of you didn't learn anything at all. Maybe tomorrow, but maybe not, we'll see. Spare me...

Alright, I could go on for pages and pages about the 900 other reasons that I hate the Duggar's but for now I'll just touch on one more subject. Dating. Or lack of dating. The Duggar's believe in saving yourself for "the One God has chosen for you". Fine, whatever. I disagree, but I respect your belief on that subject, BUT, they're taking it WAAAAY too far. Not only do they believe in saving yourself for "the One" but because of this, they don't believe in dating. I can't even find the words to explain this, so I'll just quote the Duggar Wikipedia page directly... "Casual dating is forbidden; instead, the older children are taught that a marriage partner should be sought through a form of courtship (which requires the young man to seek permission from the girl's father to begin the relationship, even if both parties are adults). All meetings between the engaged couple have a chaperon to accompany them and they believe in saving their affections and intimacy, up to and including kissing, for marriage." In layman's terms... you can't even KISS ANYONE until you marry them. I'm trying to picture what my life would be like if that's how I was raised and I'm on the verge of crying out of pity for these poor children.

The oldest Duggar, Joshua, just got married to a lovely, and equally as brainwashed young lady last September. True to form, these two did not kiss until they said "I do". To get the full feeling of awkwardness, I'd like to share with you this charming video I found on Josh and his wife, Anna's website.

AWKWARD...................

Ok... I've said enough for now. I'll let you form your own opinion about the Duggar's. Feel free to peruse their websites to learn more about their family orchestra, their multiple TV shows, and if you happen to run across Michelle Duggar's trick to makin' her hair look so good, please let me know.

http://www.duggarfamily.com/
http://health.discovery.com/tv/duggars/duggars.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duggar_family

Hands Down the Worst Job in America

It's that time of year again, my friends, for us to come face to face with the worst job in America.  I know that there are plenty of horrible jobs out there, trash man, poultry plant worker, prostitute, but I sincerely believe this one tops them all.  Yes friends, meet the Liberty Tax mascot.  

Every single time I drive past one of these poor individuals I feel incredibly sorry for them.  Not only are they forced to wear a horrible, heinous outfits, but they are also forced to brave the elements, shouting, flying objects, as well as the possibility of an accidental run-in with their better-off-without-them-ex-significant-other.  Let's examine what it takes to be a Liberty Tax mascot.

First things first, you can't deny how awful these outfits are.  I mean, they are just downright embarrassing.  And you can't win with them either.  You can either choose (and I'm really not even sure if they have a choice in the matter!) between the weird-looking mascot outfits with the misproportioned heads and tiny arms that look like they will topple over at any moment or the costumes without the gigantic head pieces that leave you subject to public embarrassment because everyone can see your face.  I can't tell which is the lesser of two evils.  

Second, you have to wave, constantly, all day long.  Sometimes I can see them waving from a mile away when no other cars are in sight.  I see you.  I do.  I'm just trying not to look for your sake.  And just because you're out here waving at me doesn't mean I'm trusting you with my taxes.  The exact opposite actually.  If this is what the outside is like I'd hate to see what kind of clowns are on the inside.  I'm also wondering if you get paid more to dance around like a drunk buffoon.  Or maybe I'm just way off base and those people actually love their jobs.  Who knows.  But on occasion you'll see ol' Lady Liberty or Uncle Sam gettin' down on the corner of 39th and Noland like it's a Soul Train audition.  No joke.  Whatever you're on, I'd like some.

Third, who makes their employees stand out on the street corner in freezing sleet at 6:45 in the morning when it's barely even light enough to see them?  Those poor saps.  I know those polyester red, white and blue costumes can't be that warm.  And that foam liberty spike headpiece is not a sufficient tool for keeping the heat in either.  Not only the cold but these guys will be out there in the scorching heat too.  Just sweating and probably wanting a water break but no, there are cars that need to be waved at.  Small children that need to be frightened.  So you better stay out there and man your post like a good mascot would.

The bottom line is, each time I see one of these sad little tax creatures I want to swoop them up in my car and take them far, far away where nobody will ever know the embarrassment they've suffered and the frostbite they've endured.  A place where you're free to wear whatever you want and waving is optional.  I guess until then, they'll just have to wait until April 15th for freedom.  Until next year anyway...