My Unfortunate Consequence

I like to drink. I have always quite enjoyed it. It all started with sneaking a wine cooler from my friend's parents overstocked refrigerator. I remember trying to choke it down as if it were pure isopropyl alcohol with berry flavoring. I even went through a phase in my teenage years where it was the only way I could enjoy myself. When I was about fifteen I found a very bubbly outgoing friend who was about eighteen and had tits that were abnormally large on her small frame. She changed my life dramatically. As you can imagine she had little trouble finding an older man that was always eager to jump in his run down car and run to the liquor store on our behalf. This became our pastime. As you could probably imagine some of the best, and worst times of my life were during this phase. We will come back to this in a moment.

For most of my life I have also managed to be very accident prone. As a small child we had an "Urgent Care" center down the street from my house with two files on me so thick you would think they were bringing two levels of The Encyclopedia Britannica into the room every time I paid them a visit. My accidents did tend to be minor in most cases. At the time I had never broken a bone. I just managed to do stupid things that would warrant an emergency visit. Usually small sprains or large cuts and concussions and the like. I was very active when I was younger, so things like this tend to happen to active children. When you take an accident prone indivdual and give them alcohol....it should be clear to see that hilarity will surely ensue.

When I was about 16 I went out with my bubbly friend to one of the "clubs" around town that would allow young minors to attend because they didn't serve any alcohol. It was generally common for us to drink in the parking lot before entering. So, we got really loaded and when we left we drank even more and then proceeded to the diner...which was the drill for anyone that attended said establishment. Between two lightweight teenagers we made short work of a bottle of vodka. Not just any Vodka, the stuff they would keep BELOW the bottom shelf if they could....you should have to dig a hole and bottle it yourself it is so toxic. I was running around in front of the diner with a friend of mine when I twisted my ankle. Not just a little bit....a lot. I remember not really knowing what was happening. It was as if suddenly the world tilted sideways and I was laid out on the grass with people standing over me asking if I was alright. The following morning assessment of the damage would show that I had sprained my ankle so badly I had bruises running up either side of my leg, my entire foot was purple and my ankle was roughly the size of a grapefruit. I couldn't walk right for about two months.

I didn't have another unfortunate drinking accident until I was much older. The next instance occurs when I am about 22 or 23. My (at the time) boyfriend and a friend of mine went over to a friends house he was renting out with a bunch of his friends. They were having a rager. One of those parties where there are people laying on the lawn puking their guts out, sleeping in the bathroom on the toilet seat, and fighting on the front porch. The entire living room/kitchen area was hardwood floor, which apparently gets slippery when wet. In the kitchen there were shots going around, drinks being mixed and spilled. The entire floor was a giant puddle. We were all splashing around in it and tracking it into other rooms of the house. Looking back now someone was bound for an accident. Someone, meaning me.

When the evening started coming to a close I went to walk down the stairs....which were also hardwood. I was wearing these silver platforms with absolutely no traction on the bottom of them when I suddenly had a small confrontation with gravity. In any fight with gravity, it will always win. One leg went down the stairs and the other....didn't really. It is all really fuzzy after that. I remember feeling really hurt, but nothing serious. I actually walked myself out to the car and everything.

I woke up the next morning and tried to roll over in bed and couldn't. Every time I would make the slightest movement pain would shoot down my legs and up my back. I couldn't imagine what was wrong. Luckily the Dr. knew the moment he saw me doing the walk of shame down the long hallway to the exam room. I had broken my tailbone....the only bone I have ever broken in my entire life. I couldn't stand up from my chair, sit down or do really anything without an immense amount of pain for months. Total nightmare. If you are going to break something, don't let it be your tailbone.

I managed to go a couple years without incident, until about a month ago. I had a bunch of friends over to my house and we were playing beer pong, eating pizza and so on. This doesn't really have much pre-story to it because I wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. I was simply walking through my kitchen when I slipped on a cheese wrapper that had apparently missed the garbage can. I fell on my ass, smacked my head on the refrigerator and felt a huge pop when I fell. I immediately started screaming bloody murder because at first I thought I broke my leg. Everyone in my house was concerned at first but when they saw that my leg was obviously not protruding bones or flopping lifelessly they assumed I must be fine. They thought I was just being drunk and ridiculous. The people at the Emergency Room at 6:00 AM felt the same way. They sent me home diagnosing it as a knee sprain. After a few hundred dollars and and MRI later, I have torn some very important ligaments in my knee that will need surgery for repair.

That really sums it up at this point. The funniest thing is that all of these injuries could have just as easily happened when I was sober, but manage to only plague me in my drunken state. Why is that? Is the the horror movie mentality that if you are doing something wrong you are in for some karma? Not sure. I guess I will have to be extra careful when navigating around my own kitchen. Moral of the story: don't drink and walk.

My Status Update

I am a child of the technology age, and have embraced it fully, if not whole-heartedly. I have a MySpace page, a Facebook page, play a couple fun online games and of course have an email account. It has occurred to me that without an online existence you actually cease to exist, especially in my current "house mom" situation. I don't have a job, and have two kids so getting out to special events or even to enjoy a single frosty mug of beer has become more than a chore. The only way that I can really keep in touch with the outside world is through my social networking sites, and although I like having some "friends" that I don't talk to often, or old friends I have fallen out of touch with over the years at my fingertips it sometimes seems to me that people are abusing the privilege of having me at their fingertips.

I would like to introduce a new saying for the type of issue I am currently explaining. It is more of a small edit to one that is more than well known. I propose a change from-

If you have nothing nice to say, then don't say anything at all

to

If you have NOTHING to say, then don't say anything at all.

I read the funniest comic strip the other day in reference to what I am talking about. Due to the fact that I don't have the option to paste it into my blog I am going to quote it

"Where have you been? No email, you didn't text me. Not a clue on your blog, you didn't update your status on Facebook. It is like you fell off the earth!"

"Did you not check Twitter?"

"Oops, sorry 'Upstairs, going to the bathroom, be back in five'."

The side ache I got while laughing at this comic strip would possibly have caused me to drown if I had been swimming. Now, I am willing to admit that I am occasionally guilty of the no update update but it should be the exception rather than the rule. When I have 100 people updating information that I need to scroll through (not to mention every app update, which I actually don't mind) I don't need to know that you sneezed. Call me crazy, but it isn't life altering information for me. The even funnier thing is that you will find twenty comments following this update saying, "bless you."

So, in the spirit of fun let's take a look at some of the updates currently taking up space on my news feed. Names, of course removed to protect the guilty.

"I wanna snuggle."

"Please please please don't let what I am thinking happen." - small comment on this is that I hate half a story. I am not a goddamn mind reader and I am certainly not going to break out the crystal ball.

"Wish that Cyber Monday came on payday"

"I'm hungry" -Stop the presses! Someone is hungry, alert the media.

"Totoro and ice cream"

"I need to poo"

Okay, so I actually made that last one up, but it wasn't any different than anything that preceded it. I am actually not going to go any further down the feed or I will never find my pillow, but this is why I prefer the layout of MySpace to Facebook. I can see one status update, or click to see more if I choose. I don't have to sort my way through everyone's stream of consciousness looking for things I would actually care to know about someone. Update and let people know how you're doing, or chit chat about your shows, share something funny or crappy that happened today...or awesome quotes...everyone loves a good quote. I guess a good rule of thumb is, if what you are saying could not be followed with some sort of conversation, don't say it.

My Bird

Thanksgiving. If nothing else, a valid excuse to escape the cubical farm and breathe real air if only for a day. Other than that, it is a cruel, inhumane ritual where you eat far too much food, and travel (sometimes) insane distances to submit yourself to the torture of "family dynamic."

The one thing I can say, is this is the only widely celebrated American holiday that we didn't steal from the Pagans and try to claim it as our own... so YAY US!

So, I love my family, and my hubbys family, but I know I cannot be the only one who would agree that after you stretch past the teenage years, you see Thanksgiving as a mundane chore. Day off MY ASS.

Your day could probably go one of a few different ways:

Option A "Bird Cooker": You get up at the butt crack of dawn. Althought you may be up in time to see the suns rays grace the mountain tops, you will be busy shoving the oversized bird in the oven, and boiling potatoes. After this, your next 8 hours will be spent with your toes tightly pressed against where your oven meets the linoleum. Then, you await the arrival of your family, rush through the dinner at some ridiculous hour so that whoever is there will have time to climb into their cars and make their next appointment. Then, you get to clean every plate, fork, crock pot and gravy ladel in your kitchen.

Keep in mind that to do Thanksgiving this way, you probably spent all day yesterday crack cleaning your home. You probably even broke out the toothpicks. Q-Tips and bleach to get those hard to reach (and never noticied) places.

Option B "Appointmenter": You go to someone elses house for thanksgiving. Possibly several houses for Thanksgiving. If you have mastered the art of bolemia, this will not be a problem for you. You wake up...not as early as the bird cooker, but early enough to make sure you have whatever your assigned food was for each dinner. You may have had to prepare one, or two, or three of these dishes the day before hand, or possibly half way....have some cream, dough, jello, or pasta dish "cooling overnight" in your refrigerater. Or, if you're like me, you are going to have to spend the morning fighting Thanksgiving traffic, speeding from location to location to find an open store that has whatever you need to make the dishes, that you should've made the night before.

While this is your day off, it would probably be nice to be able to snuggle into your bed, hit snooze on your alarm and sleep until a ripe hour of the morning...but no. You will most likely be climbing into your car in the frigid morning air, scraping the ice from your windows, and running SOME SORT of errand.

After all this is completed you will arrive in a timely enough manner for your first appointment. You will eat more food than humanly possible(if you didn't have a breakfast somewhere), because you're starving at this point, and the smells of Thanksgiving are one of it's upsides. You will chit chat. You will dash off, in time to make your next dinner. You will then arrive there....force yourself to eat enough food to appear "polite" and then sit there for an hour or two,top button undone, cursing the pilgrims for ever even DREAMING of coming to this god forsaken nation. **Note: An experienced appointmenter will wear an elastic wasteband.

Option C "The Traveler": So....your Thanksgiving probably started yesterday. Could've started by rushing to the airport in morning traffic...turkey isn't the only bird you'll be seeing (haha). Then, you wait in an ungodly line to be poked, and prodded by airport security and making your flight, by the graces of God alone. Or, it could've started by waking up at a ridiculous hour, cramming the children in the car with the pillows and hot cocoa, and making a trek somewhere.

On the actual day of Thanksgiving, you are waking up in unfamiliar territory. Unless you had the money and thought to book a hotel room three months ago, you're staying with family. You will now compete for the sink to brush your teeth, and the shower to take a shower. Envision that scene from "Home Alone" when they are all trying to get ready to go to the airport. It will likely be something like that.

At some point you should really probably offer help to the bird cooker...even if you don't really want to help and just pray they say "I've got it." The real catch though, is that you're completely trapped. No stepping away.... no going home, no sleeping in your own bed. Hope your family is great, because you are glued to it until you get to play the traveling game either on Saturday, or Sunday. Either way, good luck with that. On the upside, if you're a mule carrying heroin....probably the best day to sneak it by airport security.

Option D "The Fuckit.....er": Usually this is someone who I was lucky enought oe be for a couple years when I was a teenager. Probably someone that has family out of town they can't travel to go see, or don't care to. You will sleep in...late. Close the drapes, put the cell phone on silent. Maybe shower....maybe not. Call another friend in your same situation. Maybe grab a movie. Maybe not. Maybe get drunk. Who knows! Fuck it!

Option E "Footballer": Wake up whenever. Eat Bird. Watch Football.

Now, it is possible to inter-mesh some of these....but pretty much you're doin something listed up there tomorrow.

First poetry piece to be posted to this blog. Timing could not be better.

Timeless

Words don't come so easy this time,
my dear, dear, friend.
A mouth once gifted with gab sits silent.
How can a person like me encompass your entire being,
with a few disheveled sentences.
What I needed, you embodied.
What I wished, you granted.
Those intrigues will never be lost in this,
this wasted time.
My skin crawls for what is lost,
in future generations,
and in myself.
The mistake of many, is the mistake of my own
I have taken for granted,
surrendered,
suffered those empty hands
the giving heart,
generous soul.
You will not only be mourned, or missed,
but forever defined
in this moment.
How could I be so selfish?
The books do not hold what you can
with your effortless grasp.
Timeless.
My fingers wrestle slowly
to hold to what is clearly amiss,
albeit lost in cause.
Forget you not.

*dedicated to Dwayne McCartney 1941-2009
Go in peace my friend.

My Story

When desperate times call for desperate measures, what do you do when you yourself are desperate? Not only myself, but the entire nation seems to be up in arms about the crunch currently. As a child of the eighties, I never really understood why they called the downfall of the economy in the thirties "The Great Depression"....well, because it was fucking depressing, that's why.

I've worked my ass off to get what I have in life, and it has not been an easy road. No golden cup, no silver spoon. In fact the odds have been stacked against me since I was a teenager. Despite my unwillingness to "play the game" most of my life I have managed to succeed. I have done things my way, and laughed in everyone's face while I did it.

I went against the grain in middle school...refused to participate in school functions and the "norm." I had no interest in the approval of my peers, and couldn't care less about my grades, or how I was viewed by those who had power over my young life. I came to a conclusion at this point in my life that no one was owed respect. It was to be earned. I have stuck to this notion into my adult life.

In Highschool, I would arrive when I wanted, go to whatever classes I felt would benefit me and spent the rest of my time at Denny's. I still managed to pass most of my classes and earned the respect of most of my teachers.

When I was sixteen, I got pregnant. Not surprisingly, I got ditched by the "man" who assisted me in getting into that situation. While everyone seemed to have an opinion on what I should do, no one really gave it the time and thought that I did as to how this would affect my life, and the life of my child. Despite everyone's opinions otherwise, I kept my child and decided I would show a metaphorical middle finger to anyone that thought I couldn't do this on my own. Despite the fact that this decision would close many doors to me in life, it was the choice I made. I know that it was the right decision for me. They do say that where one door closes, another opens. I have been lucky to easily find many open doors in my life, but currently I seem to struggle in locating those doors.

I have usually been willing to do whatever it takes to get ahead. I have done what I needed to do, and taken advantage of every great opportunity that has found it's way into my hands. Although I didn't go to college, I would like to consider myself fairly business minded. I am able to identify what is important, and prioritize it. Get it done, and if I cannot get it done I am able to find a way to delegate. Why can I not apply these same skills to managing my own life? One's life really is a business, in a way. Gotta turn a profit, stay ahead, and grow as a person.

When I got laid off from my most recent job, I honestly felt slightly liberated. The position I held at the time I left the company seemed to be a trap that I could never get out of filled with impossible missions....and man eating sharks. I thought it was a blessing in disguise and that I would have no problem finding a new job with the unique skills I had acquired over the years. Apparently prospective employers would beg to disagree.

So, nine months later, here I am. Twenty-five, happily married mother of two, and completely fucked. The only delegating I do is tell my son to take out the dog. A little over a year ago I was living the American Dream. How does it slip away so quickly? I had everything I had strived to achieve, and I had done it my way. I was so proud myself. I could stand up and say, "screw you cookie cutter versions of a well planned life." Now, I feel like I have no options available to me. I can't find a job, can't pay my bills, can't feed my family... and even when I am able to swallow my pride enough to ask for help...no one can oblige.

While I understand that this situation is most likely temporary, months of ongoing frustration can change a person forever....and also how I see life in general. You can only get your foot into so many doors, before you break your damn foot. I will still do things "my way." I will still take every opportunity extended to me, but I won't give blind trust to a company, and I will never get too comfortable in any situation or think that someone will be there to help me when I really need it. Even if you have favors to call in, doesn't mean there will be someone there to answer at the other end of the line. Lesson learned.

*Please note that this is NOT an open invitation to a pity party. Just making a long convoluted point.

My "Warm Place"

What is it about fall that keeps me completely enthralled every year? From the intoxicating smell of a fall evening to crisp cool morning air I am completely mesmerized each and every time the season begins. The feeling I feel in the first couple weeks when it really feels like fall is only comparable to the fresh feeling you get when you first venture into a new relationship. Unfortunately the break-up between fall and I is always harsh and cold...

I love Halloween...I find myself looking forward to it every year. Watching each festive house transform into a haunted mansion, crafty house with cartoon pumpkins, or a classically decorative home with gourds and hay bales always brings me joy. I find myself always wandering down the Halloween aisle at every store, no matter how many times I have already seen it.

Aside from the rich shades of the trees down every road I pass bringing a nice sense of calm, the excitement of the bustle of fall can almost be overwhelming at times. It is the start of the busy season. Holidays, work, gatherings... all this and I still welcome the Autumn air with open arms, and feel like I cannot wait for the next day to begin. Although the weather is chilly, it is my warm place.

My Occupational Hazard

Oh, Sonic Drive-in. The home of the Cherry Lime-aid, delicious toaster sandwiches, tater-tots, and the worst customer service in America. I will admit I am a hard person to please due to the fact that I have worked in Customer Service for so many years, but I wouldn't be shocked to find out that Sonic pumps marijuana smoke into the air there, because everyone seems to be working on only half a brain.

My Sonic journey began about seven years ago when they built their first restaurant here in Salt Lake City. My boyfriend (now husband) worked there. While he was working there I fell in love with their amazing menu....but not necessarily the staff that worked along side him. First off, the manager of Sonic actually smoked inside the store. Pretty sure that violates several acts, and policies. Not to mention that there was not a kind, or professional bone in her body.

After he stopped working there, I tried many times to eat there. However, I was always greeted with abnormally long wait times, rude teenagers, wrong food, and was charged incorrectly. Since there was a Sonic down the street from my house I went there often even though I always left feeling unhappy with my experience. This was at both locations near me (there was one right down the street, and another one suburb over). I had basically come to terms with the fact that if I wanted to eat their food, I would have to put up with these rather large blemishes on their service record and that it would take me about 45 minutes to get my food, get it fixed, and then get my charge fixed.

One particular occasion will always stand out in my mind as the absolute worst customer experience I had ever had. I ordered what I always got. The breakfast toaster sandwich Combo. The price has increased greatly since then, but at the time it was actually 2.99. I also got it Sonic Sized with a large drink and tots (NOT a Route 44 drink...which is what they always tried to give me). To upsize it I believe the cost was somewhere in the ballpark of 69 cents or so. When I got my food, they told me that I owed them 4.89. Basic math skills will tell you that even with prepared food tax, this is incorrect. I told the car hop that I think it is incorrect and I would like to see my receipt. He said he would go get it. About two minutes later, a teenage girl walks out to my car, introduces herself as the supervisor in a rather rude tone, cocks her hip to the side in a childish fashion and says "what's your problem?"

"I ordered the breakfast toaster sandwich combo for 2.99, sonic sized it, but my total is wrong. I would like to see my receipt." I said, probably a little irritated.

"There is nothing on the menu for that price." She said, and then laughed at me a little. So, I reached out my window, pointed to the menu board where the price is clearly listed and said, "What's that?"

At this point she threw her hands out, stomped her feet as if she were a toddler, and started screaming at me. I don't remember everything she said, but it was along the lines of me always coming in there and ripping off her store (which I never did, I would ask them to fix my food if it was wrong, and I hadn't been there in months at this point), and then proceeded to tell me that I couldn't come there anymore. I started screaming back at her that I wanted my receipt, they charged my card and I wanted my receipt....she refused to let me have my receipt.

During her tantrum, I was understandably upset. I pulled my car out of the stall and left, and while I was leaving the car hops came out and yelled at my car as I drove away. Another shining moment in Sonic Drive-In history. I really, and truthfully didn't eat there for about two years.

After a lengthy hiatus of my Sonic infatuation I decided it was time to give it another shot but was disappointed to run into the same problems. There was one evening where I ordered a Bacon Cheddar Burger Toaster (which I believe is called something different now). The reason I like this sandwich so much is because it comes with the most amazing Hickory BBQ sauce on it, and some mayo. When I get my sandwich I find that instead of my amazing sauce, I have ketchup. We asked that they come out and get my sandwich and make it correctly. After about two minutes they ring out to our menu board and say, "That sandwich doesn't come with BBQ sauce, it comes with ketchup." I had to argue with them to get them to make my sandwich with the Hickory BBQ sauce as advertised. When I finally got it back, it did have the BBQ sauce but was still also drenched in ketchup. I just ate it anyway.

I have since moved out to Sandy, which is about twenty minutes from where I used to live. Funny thing is that the closest fast food restaurant to me is.....Sonic Drive-in. I haven't been to this location before, so we decided to give it a shot. It had just opened and we took our family down to have breakfast. This was probably about a year or so ago. They had a special breakfast sandwich at the time that had sausage, and bacon on it...it looked amazing so this is what we ordered. When we got the sandwiches, there was no sausage. We pressed the red call button and let them know, they assured us it would be no problem and they would have that right out to us. So we waited, and waited, and waited. Mind you, I have a three month old baby in my car getting more aggravated by the moment.

Finally, after about 10 minutes we pressed the red button again and let them know that we were waiting for our sandwiches to be re made. We were greeted ed with a "What? What did you order?" I probably should not have been shocked at their incompetence, but I was. We told them what we were waiting for, and after about five minutes, the manager brought us out our sandwiches with apologies. We took these and went home because by this point we had been there over an hour.

We were opening our food, took one bite of the sandwich and what was missing? The sausage. Again. So my husband threw all the food in the bag, took it back and demanded a refund for the sandwiches. The manager tried telling him there was no way that our sandwiches did not include sausage, but my husband pulled them open and showed him. So, we did get our refund. One small victory against a restaurant that has stolen countless hours of my life.

I have been back there probably twice in the last year or so. Both times, they have made one small error or another, but they were dismissible able to a point. However, my husband stopped there the other night to get dinner, and they forgot our fries, and charged us incorrectly for two of our combo's.

I have called their 800 number more than once to complain....each time I am greeted with a cold voice on the other end of the line that promises me nothing. They don't even try to make me feel better. Basically, Sonic Drive-In....you do not care about your customers. You don't care about their experience. You don't care that your name is attached to corrupt franchises that make you look bad as long as the all mighty dollar is flowing your way. I do appreciate you making my dinner decision easier, knowing that there is one less choice on my roster. Thanks for that.

Ten Wicked Short Stories in a Bar

..Fiction..

Part 1

He looked ashamed, and rightfully so. I stood from my chair, threw my fresh glass of wine in his face and screamed with as much voice and volume as I could muster, "You Asshole!" It hit me shortly after, that I had actually lived the scene in every good romantic comedy filmed since the 80's. I now understand why that scene is in every movie. There is a certain amount of accomplishment in ruining a new designer shirt with a cheap merlot. More so, when the shirt is on a jackass.

Feeling disconcerted but unashamed, I threw my purse over my right shoulder and made the most dramatic exit I would probably ever make in my life. As I turned to the door, I could even hear my own theme music. "Eye of the Tiger."

I must admit that it was hard for me to look back at the remaining patrons left in the bar. I am sure some of them may have felt that I overreacted. Especially the small Polish woman sitting behind 'asshat.' I'm pretty sure she got half of the glass of wine as well. I must say that when I did look back, it was almost as if some of them had just watched that movie scene mentioned earlier. Some of them looked shocked, the other half oddly proud...and some looked like they came into the story at the wrong moment.

I let the door slowly close behind me, and on that chapter of my life. She can have him. He sucked in bed anyway.

This is an Avant Garde Original, as seen in 'To Nowhere' and is not to be copied, all or in part, by any other person or entity.

My Interception

I am a 25 year old woman. If I had to choose an occupation at the moment, it would be homemaker(not by choice, I might add). have grown up opposed to anything that may be considered mainstream, popular, or mediocre. I am admittedly, a very against the grain kinda gal that may....or may not....have a little bit of a superiority complex about it, but enough of the psychobabble.

I married a wonderful man, who happened to have a very unfortunate football habit. Now, he didn't disclose the severity of this problem to me when we first began dating, but the signs were present. I remember him having a football jacket, and maybe even a jersey or two when we first met, but I just chalked it up to bad teenage fashion. Seven or so years later, I realized I had a tailgater on my hands. It started slowly at first, and then snowballed into this full blown passion. I struggled to acclimate to his new pastime, especially because I was the type of person that would trip football players or cheerleaders in the hallways at school.

After a year or so of fighting it head on, I slowly began to realize that these are the moments that can really define a relationship. I can either swim against the current, or find my way through safely. Thankfully, I chose the ladder.

It began with me, ever so slowly attempting to try to watch some games with him. Usually it would end with me staring at the wall, counting the seconds to end of my torture Even when I would watch it I had absolutely no clue what was happening. It was a lot of stop and go....people were running, and stopping, and tackling eachother, but that was about all I could piece together. I realized that in a country where one of the biggest sports followings is football I had managed to keep myself completely in the dark about how any of it even worked. I wondered how I had not even managed to catch minuscule chatter about the rules, or what teams were located where....I didn't even know more than two or three NFL teams.

The first couple conversations about it were me just asking things like, "how do you tell who has the ball?" or, "why are they giving the ball back to them?" I had no idea that they had sets of downs, or what determined how they got points, or how scoring worked.

The way that I finally did break into football is probably a funnier story, and probably a little more characteristic of myself. My husband's team is the 49ers. We were watching a game one day, and as usual, I chose to be a little cranky and defiant about the whole situation. I chose to cheer for the opposing team because it was the only way to make it interesting for me. That team happened to be the New England Patriots. It also happened to be the year that they nearly went undefeated(if you follow football at all you probably remember this). They totally annihilated. This is what they continued to do to all my friends teams until the end of the year. It is no secret that I prefer to be on the winning side of things, as I am very competitive in nature.

I managed to learn all the rules, and find things that I could be interested in about the sport. I now do not mind so bad watching football with my husband which is probably a good thing, because it may have gotten a little rocky early off if I wasn't able to find some sort of common bond to the sport. Moral of the story: Sometimes you gotta pick your battles. It is easier to give a little, to make your own life easier. Unless you like the Steelers. Then you suck anyway.

My Personal Truths of Life

I know every so often, people forward around cheesy emails with stuff like this in them, but these are my own personal truths of life. Some of these are not my own quotes, and some are a little bleak, but they still hold true to me.

* You CAN decide if you're going to have a good day or a bad day, but it's easier said than done

*The people you'll remember most, are those who hurt you.

*Everyone wakes up on the wrong side of the bed once in awhile.

*It's ok to feel completely overwhelmed sometimes, if only for a moment.

*Never trust an honest face, they are usually attached to liars.

*We will never truly "clean up" the environment.

*Everyone cries alone once in awhile. There is nothing wrong with it.

*You will grow apart from some of the people you love the most, and even forget about some of them and what they've meant to you.

*The greatest feeling is to laugh until you cry-and the flip side of that is that sometimes the only way to stop crying is to find something to make you laugh.

*You will never really know someone. Most people are lucky if they really know themselves.

*Life really is too short to hold a grudge.

*It's normal to want what you will never have.

*Whoever said "money can't buy you happiness" has obviously never been flat broke.

*Sometimes help will come from the most unlikely sources when you need it the most.

*Although it makes life hold more meaning to have a religious belief, doesn't make it right.

*Determination is the best quality to posses. With that, all others will fall into place.

*Even your best friend can betray you.

*Even if you aren't going anywhere, you should always dress up for Halloween

My "Zion Curtain"

This piece has been moved from my original blog. If you read my blog regularly, you have probably read this piece as well.

Utah is a beautiful state, and I have lived here all my life. There is actually a rich culture here if you look for it, but it is hard to spot at first.

In this state as our generation is getting older and forming our own opinions, there seems to be a wider gap from our parents, or even their parents more "traditional" or as I would say it "narrow" views.

This state is so driven by religion and ideology that it is difficult to be educated about different views or even what the truth behind them are. The Zion Curtain is a term that I believe is becoming more literal as days pass and the older generations begin to force the curtain in front of our eyes to create an "ignorance is bliss" way of life. Is this better?

One of the biggest debates nationwide is the "abstinence only" approach to teaching sex ed. So in order to teach sex ed, they want to remove all the sex from it. Doesn't make much sense to me either. While this debate picks up heat around the nation...it is just how things are here in Utah...however, that doesn't make it right. If you ignore teenage sex is that going to make it go away?

The current statistic would show that 93 percent of American men and 80 percent of American women between ages 18 and 59 were not virgins on their wedding night. So, it would show me that the "abstinence only" program that costs an estimated $50 million a year is helping out about 7% of men, and 20% of women. You people deserve a real pat on the back, I mean really.

Realistically, many teenage children are not going to wait to have sex until they're married. In a culture where it is becoming increasinly more "normal" for young adults to have sex, this would increase peer pressure. While I am not saying that teens are telling eachother that it is ridiculous that they aren't screwing their boyfriend or girlfriend in the bathroom. The fact that all your friends are doing it is going to make pre-marital sex far less taboo than it may have been 20 years ago. If everyone else is doing it...they're going to do it too. It's the teenage mentality.

I myself was a teenage mother, and if I were to look back to my highschool years, I couldn't tell you ONE person that was always talking about "saving it for marraige." Hell, the saving it for marraige thing has practically become the saving it for prom night thing.

In addition to downfall of teenage pregnancy there are many different types of sexually transmitted infections, or diseases you could get. Some could greatly affect your life or even kill you. Without teaching young adults about the differences in contraception we are leaving it up to pop-culter to decide. Thank God that the Yaz commercials let you know that "the pill" cannot protect you from AIDS because we know that the educaters aren't passing this information along.

One thing that many might say is that they should be learning these things from their parents. The truth of the matter is that not all kids are ready to talk to their parents about sex when they are 15 or 16 years old, and not all parents know when their children are at the point where they need to have "The Talk." It is just unrealistic to expect that the conversation is going to happen in all instances. Mom's not going to pull out the dental dam and explain how to use it, or show her son how to roll a condom on to a banana.

The other place I feel the education system is lacking is in drug education in schools. I am not saying we need to bring back the D.A.R.E program which clearly was un effective, but don't tell children that a cigarette is the same heroin or that weed is the same as crack. The same type of unintentional peer pressure occurs here. I couldn't find a study with the estimated numbers....but a lot of yound adults at least try smoking marijuana once. If you told them pot is the same as crack, they are going to find out it isn't that bad the first time they smoke it. Maybe next time....they'll try crack. Honesty is key.

Another example of the "Zion Curtain" and perhaps a more appropriate one is the new law that they are attempting to pass that says a restaurant would need to have a ten foot wall in front of a bar in their establishment... Is it the Ebola Virus? Do we need to contain it? Someone quick! Again, just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it isn't there. I haven't the slightest idea what they feel this would even accomplish.

Aside from making our already crazy alcohol laws look even better to the tourists that come into our state, I cannot see a single benefit from this. They feel that it may decrease drunk driving or underage drinking. It isn't going to decrease drunk driving! Not going to have any affect on underage drinking! which are the only two concerns that I can allign with. Again, these are things that people need to be educated about. You can't just hide it forever and think it is going to go away.

In semmation...I am hopeful that when our generation grows up to be law-makers we do not make the same mistakes are parents made, and their parents before them made and forget where we came from and what we went through in our journey to adulthood. Education is always the key. We cannot expect our youth to make good decisions when they are completely un-informed on subjects like drugs, alcohol or sex..

My Overwhelming Fear

Moved from original blog. If you already read my blogs before, you have probably already read this.

As most that are near and dear to me know, I have a completely ridiculous paralyzing fear of bees, hornets, wa,sps....and pretty much anything that can fly and sting you. I was talking to my mom about it today and explained it to her as how she would feel if she walked into her kitchen and there was a huge grizzly bear that was getting ready to rip her face off. That's how I feel about bees.

I remember as a small child, not being afraid of bees at all. It was common place to go play in the yard near sunset in the invigorating evenings of summer, and I remember there being bees and hornets all over the back lawn but it never even phased me. My Mom also keeps an amazing garden, and flower gardens that the bees love to come pollinate and the like, so growing up around bees was pretty normal.

I remember the first time I was stung. It was probably about seven or so years ago. I had left my window down and had just left my friend's house at about 1:00 AM. I was driving down the road and saw something crawling up my leg. It was really dark out, obviously, so I wasn't really sure what it was. My first instinct is to slap the shit out of whatever the hell it was....so I did. I was wearing these really thin stretchy pants at the time, because I was like 8 months pregnant and couldn't fit my sausage ass into anything normal. About five seconds later I felt like my leg was on FIRE. I was positive I was dying, and that there was something terribly wrong and I was just bitten by the hobo-widow fire spider.

When I got home I immediately tore off my pants thinking there was something still inside my pants eating my leg....there was nothing. I went out to my car to investigate and found a small, delicate little carcass of what used to be a honey bee. That's it. Just a honey bee. Just one. I'm not really allergic, but it swelled up to about the circumference of a grapefruit...not bulging out abnormally far....but I remember my skin felt like sandpaper there for about a year.

I am not sure if the fear originated there, or if it was much later...Paul and I had gone to Arby's. It was in the fall, because after that we were heading to SPIRIT to check out some Halloween costumes. We had gotten a meal, and it was a nice enough day that we just decided to park the car out of the way in the parking lot and roll down the windows and enjoy the afternoon. We were chatting, munching our sandwiches when out of nowhere, this hornet flies in my window! Now, at this point I am seat belted into my car, in a very small enclosed area with nowhere to go, and this hornet thinks he's going to be hilarious and pulls some matrix stunt and hovers three inches from my face for what felt like an hour(more like 3 seconds). I immediately let out a death shrill....to be heard for miles I am sure....it was a hyperventilating quick scream over and over....and then the damn thing flew back out. I sat there and cried my eyes out, like my life had just been saved. Paul, of course, starts laughing at me, and takes the opportunity to be a sweet nurturing boyfriend and comforts me. I truly believe that this is where my fear originated. Bees, do NOT respect your space, they wanna get up in your face, check your pupils, and decide whether or not they are going to emotionally scar you forever.

So....fast forward a couple years later. Let's set the scene with a nice spring afternoon in the avenues. Paul and I decide to go for a drive. I am in the passenger seat and am seat belted in. We have the windows down, wind in our hair. We stop at a stop sign. Bee comes in my window again!!! This time I don't think it got in my face, I think it got confused and tried to fly out the windshield, which of course it could not do. I respond by kicking my foot up under the dashboard. I had on flip flops at the time so I split my foot open, and it started gushing blood....and then I proceed to jump out of the car, screaming, in a residential area with a good amount of traffic. I am crying as well, of course. At this point Paul surely looks to be Ted Bundy or something of the sort to every passing car. He is yelling at me to get back in the car, while all the cars behind us are honking...and then the unthinkable happens....the bee flies out the car at me! It chased me about ten feet, until I am huddled in a ball, shaking on the side of the road. I finally did come to my senses and get back in the car and we were able to leave. Luckily, no police were called.

So, a few years have gone by with only small episodes of me being chased through the park, or screaming at the random bee that flies by, until yesterday. So, in this time, I have bought a new house, and had a baby which I am feeding lunch in the living room while she enjoys another gripping installment of "Elmo's World" when I see it...the biggest bee creature I've ever seen! It's like Waspzilla(which I did come to realize was just an average sized paper wasp.) My little baby is stuck in her high chair and it flies over her and me and lands in the window behind me. I am immediately torn between my need to stay alive, and my concern as a mother to protect my sweet child from certain death at the hands of my new foe.

I quickly pulled her highchair into the kitchen, cleaned off her face and decided it best to put her down for her nap in her nice, safe, closed room. After I get her down, I ran back downstairs to make sure that wasp didn't escape from the window. It was still there, which was good because I don't think I would've ever been able to go in my house again if I didn't know where it went. I armed myself with hairspray, a lighter, and a fly swatter and began the ritual dance around the bee. First, I closed the blinds so that it would be stuck in the window. I then went outside to where I could see it from the window and in true panic fashion tried to call every person I was related to, so that someone could come save me from the bee. I finally got a hold of my husband. Although he was very compassionate to my need, he explained he couldn't leave work early to come kill the bee.

At this point I am crying in my front yard, holding my bee killing equipment as if it were life or death trying to look around for any neighbors that may have been home at 2:00 in the afternoon. I remembered a pesticide that my mom had given me last year. So, I put everything down and went and grabbed that. I found a way that I could ever so slightly open the blinds to an angle where I could spray the bee, which I did, with enough pesticide to kill ten bees. I then ran outside and stood in front of my window waiting to watch the bee die. It took about 20 minutes. I was then able to enter my home again...and I squished it for good measure. The whole ordeal took about an hour but I emerged triumphant.

I thought that the wasp had come in from under my front screen door, so all day today I was very careful not to open my front door. I didn't even want to go outside to smoke. About the same time today, I had just taken Jordyn up for her nap and was picking up her toys when....another wasp flies from the floor up into my window. Same kind of wasp! My heart dropped, but I did feel a little more prepared to take care of it this time. I closed the window, sprayed the wasp, waited for it to expire, squished it. It only took me about 15 minutes this time.

About ten minutes after that, I come downstairs to get on the computer, already jumpy and what do I see? TWO....not one, TWO wasps on the floor in my basement. At this point I am sure my entire house is infested and I am never getting out alive. There was nowhere to trap them down there, so I finally mustered up the strength to spray them, and then squish them.

I did some research and found that it is pretty common to get paper wasps in your home this time of year because the hibernate as close to inside your house as they can in the fall, and then will accidentally enter your home while trying to get outside.

So....not sure how this spring will go for me. I just hope that today was the end of them because I am quite sure I will go insane if this continues. All forms of bees are just mercinaries that are plotting my demise, and attack with ninja skills. Wish me luck!

My Rebellion

Employment. It is suggested that having a job can make one feel that they are a useful part of society. So, how does one feel if they cannot find a job? Answer: like crap.

I spent the better part of the last four years climbing the corporate latter, running the corporate rat race, wondering who not only moved my cheese, but then took a flamethrower to it and roasted it to a hardened crisp....and everything between at a stuffy office job. I always felt very comfortable in my employment with that company, and to be honest- finally settled into ,what I thought at the time, was my dream job. Then, out of left field this company decided that I, as a person, was not worth their money.

The papers tell me that the job market is "challenging" right now. Maybe even more so than the ever defining depression of the thirties. Some companies are laying off, and can afford to be very picky when choosing between applicants due to the dramatic jump in options.

I am a very able bodied, well rounded applicant and consider myself quite a catch for any company. However, I was not fortunate enough to have the option to acquire a piece of paper saying I sat in a classroom for four to eight additional years learning things I will never actually need to know to succeed in any normal position.

Right now, I find myself competing with people that have associates degrees, bachelors degrees, and in some instances doctorates which are applying for data entry, and customer service jobs. I simply cannot compete with that. I actually came across a posting on a job board the other day where the employer was requiring a two year associate degree for a receptionist job. I am sure that extra training will come in handy when they get themselves in a tight spot playing tetris between transferring phone calls.

I have applied for hundreds of jobs in the past six months. I have only had TWO interviews. My resume was once considered quite impressive, but may as well contain only four to five words because apparently no one is reading it. With this in mind, I have made some small adjustments to my resume that I feel appropriately represent me. Please see example below.

____________________________________________________

My worth as a person
cannot be contained
to a single sheet of paper.



Please call for interview ###-###-####





________________________________________

My "Easter Egg" Hunt

I happen to own very few expensive things. I own a lot for someone my age, but not much of it is worth anything dollar wise. Other than my car, the most expensive thing I own (and also holds the most worth sentimentally) is my wedding ring. It also happens to be one of the smallest things I own.

I always take it off when I am doing dishes, washing my hands, showering or changing the baby because soapy water will make your diamonds appear milky, and obviously baby poop doesn't do wonders for them either...and I hate taking it in to get it cleaned. I am very careful with it.

I used to work with a friend who was always giving my shit about taking off my ring when I washed my hands or put on lotion. She was always telling me, "You're going to loose it, or leave it somewhere." It became a cautionary, "You're going to shoot your eye out" tale for my adult life. Now that I am home more often, I leave it off unless I am going out somewhere. "House momming" can be very messy.

A week or so ago, I was getting ready to head out to a nice dinner with my family when I realized....I haven't seen my wedding ring for a few days. Where had I last seen it? When did I last wear it? I had no idea. There were a few places in my house that I am usually sure to find it: The window ledge above my kitchen sink, the counter in the bathroom, my nightstand, or on top of my entertainment center. I began retracing my steps mentally and realized that I had not seen it any of those places. This was on a Monday, and I couldn't remember seeing it until the previous Thursday...and over the weekend I had about 30 people in and out of my house for a rather large party. Before the party I had gone through and "tweaked out" on my entire house....and I couldn't remember seeing it anywhere....I had also taken the garbage out about fifty times since then, and other people had been picking up my kitchen, and panic immediately set in.

I ran around to double check all the usual spots I would put it, but didn't see it anywhere. Unfortunately I was a little short on time because Paul was going to be picking me up in about ten minutes to go out to dinner. Paul also gives me his share of trouble about not wearing my wedding ring more often, so I just tried to keep in mind that I could look for it when I got home but absolutely could not let on that I was looking for my wedding ring because he would KILL ME.

Dinner was awesome, but all the while I couldn't help but to panic about the fact that I had no idea where my ring was. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. When we returned from dinner, I got the baby off to bed, being sure that I check around her changing table, window ledge and dresser to see if I may have left my ring in her room....but to no avail. At this point I realized that I was going to have to do some major digging to find it.

Now, searching high and low in your house while you are trying not to let anyone know that you're searching high and low in your house is no small feat, I assure you. I sat on the couch with my husband for a few minutes, and then casually announced I needed to run to the bathroom. I walked upstairs and began searching all around my bathroom sink, under the sink, in the garbage next to my sink and even went to far as to quietly sift through the kitty litter. No ring.

I went downstairs and sat back down for a few minutes, when I had spotted a glass. I got up on the next commercial break and took it into the kitchen, washed it (half assed) while I moved around every plant, and little tchotchke on my kitchen counter to see if it might have fallen behind it. My mind went back to that commercial where the guy drops the engagement ring down the disposal...and suddenly I wished I had cleaned my disposal more often. I reached my hand down there are searched every square inch with my fingertips. It wasn't there. I then got on my hands and knees as casually as I could and looked to see if it had made it's way under the cupboards. No ring.

At this point I began to feel completely overwhelmed with panic. I began thinking "Oh my God, I shot my eye out." I considered for a moment telling Paul I couldn't find my ring and asking for a little help. I then thought for a minute about the fact that he probably took it, and hid it to teach me a lesson. I went back upstairs and looked around his nightstand, but didn't see it there. I half expected him to walk up to me and say, "Are you looking for this?" and hold it out triumphantly, because this is something he would TOTALLY do. This is when I realized that if he had it, he wouldn't have been able to wait three or four days to do this. He would have asked my long ago if I were possibly missing something.

I looked all around my bed, under my bed, behind my nightstand, in and in the nightstand drawer. No ring. I looked all over the floor in my bedroom. Still no ring. My house was so big, and my ring was so small that it had become a needle in a haystack, metaphorically speaking. On top of this was the looming fear that it had been tossed out with the garbage, or accidentally pushed away where I wouldn't even begin to think to look. It was very recently that Jordyn had gotten my ring and put it in her mouth. If that wasn't bad enough, then I put it in a napkin on the table to dry it and we almost threw the napkin away with our dinner garbage. Add to this that my dog will eat nearly anything he could find. Could something like this be the reason I cannot find it anywhere?

I decided to give my house a once over one more time before admitting my defeat. I looked through the bathroom, the kitchen, down by my computer, around my garbage can, around my living room (which was really difficult because Paul was sitting on the couch) and returned one more time to my bedroom. I recalled when I was cleaning off my nightstand, throwing a bunch of my jewelry in my drawer and my jewelry box. I got out my jewelry box and untangled every necklace and very carefully looked all through it, but didn't find it. I then took 50% of the crap out of my drawer, looked down to a little tin I keep pins and odds and ends in....and there it was. The amount of relief I felt could not even be put into words. I really, almost cried a little bit. I put that ring on and marched downstairs with a smile on my face. He never even knew how close I was to getting the worst tongue lashing of my marriage....until I just wrote this blog. It's really funny though. Had to share.