Specialty Tupperware

A recent tweet thread of mine:

Like I said, it was from the dollar store, super bendy and wasn't all that great. It wasn't my good one.* But still. It's the principle of it. 

*which now I definitely won't bring in

Seriously. YOU. DON'T. TAKE. SOMEONE'S. SPECIALTY. TUPPERWARE.

Go Viral

It's a not so secret dream of mine to have one of my social media posts go viral. Or make it onto the huffington post funniest parents and/or women lists. However nowadays people go viral for the wrong reasons (major embarrassment, social gaffe, racist/sexist/idiotic/etc behavior followed by (hopefully) public outrage), so "going viral" probably shouldn't be on my life's accomplishment's list.
  
Anyway, I'm on my social media a lot right now (I'm on leave, newborns are pretty boring, the toddler is every bit a 2.5 year old so I have to vent and daytime tv sucks). All of those platforms have ads which I normally gloss over and dismiss. But this time I noticed all the ads were for diet products, workout routines, waist trainers, supplements etc, all these...things in an effort to motivate me to become an even "better" me.

And I'm like, I just had a baby. She's not even a week old, we're talking days. I housed a tiny human in me and literally pushed them out of my lady parts. Some might even consider that the epitome of what a lady's body can do. Here I am, sleep deprived, mentally exhausted, sore everywhere, ice packs on my raw nipples, wearing diapers (postpartum life is disgusting y'all), super hormonal, in addition to raising two very needy small humans to not be assholes and I'm supposed to be pretty too? WTF?
   
So I posted this on facebook: 

All the diet ads/products on my feed imply I should be getting back to societal set beauty standards and be ashamed of my current body for producing a healthy baby. 

Guess what world? Fuck off!

Us ladies giving a middle finger to that mindset
I also like the prominence of my double chin and how I don't give a rat's ass 

I tagged my husband (because when it involves the kids that's pretty much what we do), and got a respectable amount of likes and comments applauding my fuck off. In fact, one of dr soc's friends copied and pasted my status and gave me credit on her own wall and she got lots of likes too! So in my own way, I'm going to count that as going viral.

Achievement unlocked!

Drip Drip Drip

Okay. So. There are about a billion  polarizing/repugnant/cruel/wrong/racist/sexist/misogynistic/terrifying/dehumanizing/just plain awful things that are a result of the 2016 election. Hopefully the November 2018 election gives this deluge of awfulness a chance to slow down and in 2020 we can turn off this damn hose and start the slow process of healing.

But I've got one more water metaphor for you. And it's that I think one of the most heartbreaking takeaways from the 2016 election is how my individual vote meant absolutely everything and absolutely nothing at the same time. Because my vote, along with everyone else's (who actually did vote that is) is one drop in the bucket. 

Think about it. One drop. Not enough to make a real difference in a bucket. But if you only have a set number of drops to be distributed across a few buckets, the drops are likely to unevenly balance, and one bucket becomes fuller and wins by default. 
Here is a visual example involving maths: 

There are 10 drops and 4 buckets with different colors and levels of viability. Say those drops are dispensed as so: 

                                    drip 
  drip                           drip

  drip                           drip        drip

  drip           drip          drip       drip

(viable) (not viable) (WTF) (not viable)

Red wins by default because as individual buckets, blue, green, and orange each have less than the red total. So by placing a drop/vote in a nonviable bucket thinking it wouldn't matter anyway and didn't count... it really didn't. And yet it really did.

If you voted I'm glad you did so. I really am. But I'm also really pissed at you if threw your vote into a nonviable bucket and screwed up the math. Because now we have about a billion polarizing/repugnant/cruel/wrong/racist/sexist/misogynistic/terrifying/dehumanizing/just plain awful things to deal with.

Thanks.

Salty

I've been craving salty things more this pregnancy which makes me think this baby is a boy. But we'll find out soon enough one way or the other.

Anyway here are some of the other things I'm salty about :

• my house not having air conditioning because it's builder grade and the builders were dipshits with shoddy workmanship and didn't give a damn about actual living conditions
• the darling furnace growing in me tossing around all it's bony parts and causing general uncomfortablness  
• my allergies acting up and not being able to take a damn bit of the good drugs
• my husband not having to get a TDap shot for either of my pregnancies. (I'm really salty about that one)
• the mommy wars
• seeing all the Woodford Reserve at the Derby and knowing I can't have any for a while
• having the pee all the time
• the patriarchy
• racism
• sexism
• being thirsty all the time and so totally bored with water
• the hypocrisy of the GOP
• people not using their turn signals
• internalized misogyny  
• autocorrect 
• autotune and theses not singing just stupidly talking which is not singing on popular radio
• people (gleefully - I might add) telling me I'm getting bigger
• anyone invading my personal bubble
• my body being up for public discussion
• toxic masculinity
• being hungry all the time and not wanting any of snacks I brought
• bending
• people assuming I'm an invalid and incapable of doing anything because I'm pregnant
• people not helping me even though I'm pregnant - I want to sit and don't make me run around 

Bills, Bills, Bills

While the asshole president is throwing his ritual twitter tantrums, the Senate and/or House is quietly passing their deathbed healthcare bill. I'm sure they're all hoping while the president sulks we won't notice the damage they are eliciting. I will say I am so confused. I just don't get the whens, whats, whys, whos and hows the government and bills should do.

Because church and state are separate entities, and corporations need to be left alone to regulate themselves. Fortune 500 companies may rightfully impose the CEO's personal religions beliefs on their employees. Denying abusers access to firearms is unconstitutional, but denying healthcare (or help to the victims of those firearms) is totally kosher. Speaking of Judaism, it's okay to practice whatever religion as long as it's not Islam, or you're brown, and you don't take the jobs white American is too good for. A poppy seed sized embryo is a person with all of it's rights and those rights take precedence over and at the expense of the female host, but only while being hosted. Females in general should not make health decisions about their own life/bodies but are held fully responsible when they were recklessly female and assaulted.

And then there's the enabling the poor people with entitlements. Don't feed the poor kids at school or have a safe place to go after school. Their parents need to work harder, get a job with a living wage and move to a better part of town. But don't mandate a living wage for heavens sake! Where would that money come from? Those rich tax breaks don't go very far.

Seriously, I don't get it. Can I get this mansplained?

Double Standard

I am so fcking annoyed of the douche bag president.

I'm so fcking sick at the excuses everyone makes for him.

But I'm really SO. FUCKING. ENRAGED with the double standards.

President Obama: Faithfully married 20+ years to the lovely woman he raises 2 daughters with.

Cheeto-in-Chief Trump: Unfaithfully married to 3 different women with 5 children he doesn't bother to raise.   

Secretary Clinton: Faithfully married 40+ years to an unfaithful man she raised 1 strong daughter with- and said daughter is faithfully married and has two children herself.

And that's just their personal lives.

As far as political lives....

OMG the emails. Twitter had storm after storm about those mother fcking emails.   

Trump blabs classified information to the Russians because he's boasting about his super awesome intell like the stupid 5 year old he is. Radio Silence.

   

   All the internal screaming. 

Get Used To It - Not Anymore

You know the saying s/he's seems like an asshole at first but not once you get to know them?
That's total bullshit. Because what it actually means is: s/he's is a total asshole and you just get used to it.

Which is how I feel about the president-elect. Trump's an asshole. And this isn't a case of  "seems like one at first." Throughout his entire campaign he bullied every opponent, boasted about committing sexual assault, spewed hateful and divisive rhetoric, and then sulked and demanded apologies for his thin orange skin like the man-baby he is if called out on any of it. That. Is. An. ASSHOLE. Those weren't "campaign promises" or dismissed "locker room talk" (also bullshit). He's always been this way and he's going to continue to be that way because being an asshole got him the presidency. And he's proving himself to be one over and over again with the twitter diatribes about the recount and each cabinet member he appoints. With an "alt-right" adviser here and a no experience there. Here an asshole, there an asshole, everywhere an asshole! Ripping away our civil rights, e-i-e-i-o!

But even after a recount, if #ImStillWithHer accepts the results, I begrudgingly will too. Even though the knot in my stomach grows tighter whenever the schmuck opens his mouth/tweets. Ugh, an asshole will be our president. But I refuse to "get used to it" or accept his behavior as a human being. And I hope the nation doesn't either.

Lack of Silver Linings

I'm looking forward to some very bright spots in the next few months, mainly weddings and lots of babies (though none of them mine). I'm super excited about these. But they don't relate to any of the dark clouds in my life and won't do much to pull me out of the factory of sadness and woe I'm going through.

I'm stressed with school. I had to drop a class this semester because I couldn't keep up with the work. And on top of that I'm easily distracted from the work that I can keep up with. This semester ends soon, but a week after that I start summer classes that are even more fast paced and intense. And the week after summer classes I start fall with another very full, very stressful schedule that I have to get done in order to graduate by May 2014. I want to have a baby in 2014 but I don't want to have one when I'm trying to finish grad school. I mean, if happens it happens, people have babies/children while they are in school all the time and they make it work. And I'm not opposed to being pregnant that last few months of school, imagine how cute and happy I'd be waddling as I receive my masters. But I can barely keep up now and I've already deferred a semester before, and I know myself well enough that if a newborn is added into the mix I'll crumble due to me already being stretched too thin. And I cannot crumble when I'm a mom.

But having a baby means I'm going to need maternity care somewhat soon. And insurance companies don't start coverage right away and don't always pay for anything when you actually need it. So when I actually need maternity coverage in a few months, I need to add maternity care to the private plan that I have now. Except my private plan doesn't have that option, and there's only one semi-affordable private plan with a different company out there that does offer it. And the problem there is that the company that does offer maternity I already applied to right after I was married. They kept my info and approved me for coverage, but then they lost the application and froze my account, so I never actually received any coverage in general. And because of my frozen application, I can't apply with them again. Seriously, I tried. That was the reason I went with the company I'm with now. I could get a job that offers benefits, but those are really hard to get in general. And right now I work full time between two part time library jobs that I really really like and had a very very hard time even landing in the first place, and I don't want to leave either one. There was a small hiring frenzy for full time staff a month ago for one of the systems that I work for, and I was impressive enough to interview for 2 of the positions, but not impressive enough to actually get them. And now the rest of the full time positions that I applied for have been frozen, so there's no longer any opportunities to grow. I know how lucky I am to be where I am now, and I know it is incredibly ungrateful for me to feel stuck in a holding pattern.

But the darkest cloud I'm in is over loosing Bailey. Dreading isn't a strong enough word and I can't find the words to describe the amount of pain and hell I'm going through. I wish she was gone already so I didn't have to live like this. But what I really wish is that I could change the past and not saved her 5 years ago. I wish I had understood unconditional love and that I had the strength to let her go then. Even when Bailey is living happily ever after somewhere else, her memory is everywhere. And I don't know how well I'll be able to move on from this loss when it does happen when I still have to live with that other dog rubbing salt in my wounds.  

And I know this is life, it moves on, time heals and all those other cliche adages people are so found of saying when you are grieving are true. But I don't want to be told to cheer up. I don't want to be comforted as I cry. I don't want to be fixed at the moment. I don't want to talk to anyone either because the last time I went to a counselor they said everything my husband wanted to hear. And while I will be genuinely happy when I need to be, I don't have much of a silver lining to look forward to. I. Am. SAD. And I get to be that way for a while.

Some Rules Are Meant to be Broken

I don't pretend to have a green thumb, but I thought about trying my hand at a small little vegetable garden this spring. Just a little 3'x6' raised bed garden to grow peppers and a few herbs, and maybe a zucchini plant if I'm feeling particularly daring. Just so I don't have to spend a small fortune on fresh produce all the time (basil is expensive yo!).  I looked at a few gardening websites, learned the basic how-to's, and mentioned the idea to Mike. He was down for it. But then, recalling how bitchy the HOA was about the position our non-existent basketball hoop, he figured we should check the guidelines of the neighborhood just in case.

Section 2.12 Additional landscaping:
"Additional landscaping must be approved in writing by the MC (management company) using the application of exterior modification prior to the change unless it is within a 3 foot radius on the home. Gardens are not permitted."

However, I can totally have a trampoline as long as I apply for the application of exterior modification and place it in the center rear of the back yard. Which I learned from section 2.2 Backyard Play Equipment, Trampolines and Basketball Goals (the same place with the rules we so blatantly ignored with our non existent basketball hoop).

I'm so mad at the ridiculousness of it all I could spit. I can't have a small garden to grow food, but I can have a death trap (albeit, a super fun one) as long as I get the right papers in? I mean, really? WTF? Of course, now that I can't have one I want one really bad if only to piss the HOA off. I can do this one of several ways.

1. Carry on with my original plan which was to build and plant the thing, and see how long it takes to get another nasty-gram. (If they are going to send another nasty-gram we better as hell deserve it this time.)
2. Plant the garden along the entire back side of my house but only extend it 2'-9" from the house as to not violate the 3' radius clause. Of course, shade from the house isn't optimal for growing, but it's for the principle of it!
3. Painstakingly detail the garden plans to the point of absurdity (for example: will be so many feet by feet, which is so many centimeters by centimeters and will be placed x feet and y centimeters from the house, top soil consisting of 10% this, 20% that and 70% so-and-so will raise no higher than 24" off the ground, etc.) Then apply for the exterior modification permit and have them approve the ridiculous. 
4. Plant everything in flower pots and containers and cover my entire yard with those. Just don't move more than 2 to the front yard if they are dead. No ugly and/or dead plants in the front yard per hoa orders.
5. Or, forget the garden and just bitch.

Options 2, 3 and 4 are more work that I intend to actually do. Option 1 is a viable possibility because I don't think any neighbors would actually complain over a vegetable garden, especially if we give them some of the results from it. And we could always go with a mea culpa and apply for the exterior modification after the nasty-gram. But it will more than likely be option 5, because it's just a small garden. But that doesn't make the situation any less ridiculous and me less bitchy about it.

HOA

The other day we received a violation letter from our HOA notifying us that our portable basketball hoop was in the wrong position, ie: the hoop must be perpendicular to the driveway and not facing the street.

Two things:
One: you're going to threaten to fine us for the wrong position of the moveable hoop?  Is a 90 degree turn really that egregious to warrant a fine?
And two, the much more pressing matter in my opinion: is that we don't have a basketball hoop.

Yeah.

Needless to say, my husband was none too pleased. So he called the company, wrote a letter and they called back saying "our bad" and the violation was erased and never happened.  But maybe as a good bussiness practice they should double check the address before they start slapping fines on people. Just saying.

The devil of bras

I primarily work in the intimates and accessories area of my store since I am the area supervisor. In layman's terms: I work in the bras and purses area.  Now, knowing me like you do, this is a good fit, since I like both underwear and (if in the mood that is) purses.  And I know the area really well. I know all the brands we carry, the general look and target market those brands, which bras come in which sizes (also related to target market), which ones have under wire and which ones don't, which ones have lots of padding and which ones have none, and occasionally I remember a few of the colors too. So I think it's fair to say that I'm pretty helpful in the area because I know my merchandise. 

But what I don't do, is actually make the bras. And if you are an odd size, I know it can be difficult to find something that fits because I've been there too.  However, I am willing to compromise on some things, like trying on a different color, or giving the under wire a shot. (Oh who am I kidding? I haven't forgone the under wire since college. Gravity won that war a long time ago with me).  I really can't help you find what you need if you aren't willing to give somewhere.

It's not my fault that i can't find the 42B wireless with no padding whatsoever in black the customer wants if no one makes that. (well, no one in my store makes that).  And merely suggesting trying on the white version of the bra they want just to see how it fits seems to be a declaration of war. And when you want a bra that had no shape to itself, it's typically not the prettiest of things either.  So I'm sorry that I can't find the cute shapeless wireless miracle black weird size to hold your average boobs and broad back up bra because it doesn't exist for you to try on at the moment.  But I'm not the devil of bras you make me out to be either. Just saying.

Know what's important

Last week I drove to meet little dude, visit with friends and then spend some time in Lexington.  But to first get to Cleveland, I have to drive north through Virgina for a small portion of the drive.  In theory, that portion of the drive should take an hour total.  It took closer to 3 due to congestion.  I ended up loosing 2 hours in that state, thus turning an 8 hour drive into a 10 hour drive.  Plus, I still had to drive through West Virgina after Virgina, which was nothing to look forward to.  Because I think we all know that nothing good comes from West Virgina.  I was pissed to say the least.  So I did what anyone else would do in my situation. I called my fiance to whine. 

me: Oh my god, Virgina you suck!  Honey, could you do me a favor and see if you can find anything online as to what the hold up is?  I mean, I know you can't do anything about it, but still.
mike: Sure. --sounds of typing and traffic sleuthing-- Looks like there's congestion miles 42-46 and 56ish.  Though it doesn't list any particular reason.  It does say traffic will clear up around 4:15, and that's soonish.
me: --whine!-- Oh goody for me, what that doesn't give me is those 2 hours back I lost.  This sucks!--insert string of whiny girl noises and phrases here--. Sigh.  I'm just bitching to bitch now honey, I'm sorry. I'm just, well, you know.
mike: I know. In theory you should be going faster in about 10 minutes though.
me: --snort-- Yeah, in theory.  Thanks for checking for me though.
mike: You're welcome. Drive safe.

We hang up the phone, traffic clears up in roughly 10 minutes after I drive through a tunnel, with no delay reason in site.  I am finally, finally, out of that state and now have West Virgina and 6 more hours to go.  Eventually I stopped to get gas and take a small break about an hour of driving at a reasonable highway speed.  I pull out my phone to send my girlfriends my new eta, and I have this text message from Mike:

mike: Amy Winehouse died. No cause of death yet but I'm sure the toxicology report will turn up something.
me: I LOVE that you knew to tell me that.

Yeah. He knows what's important. Best fiance ever.

Most Popular

Coffee may keep Alzheimer's at bay according to this study.  That's great. It really is.
But, that doesn't fix my dad.  Because he doesn't have Alzheimer's, he has dementia.  Alzheimer's is the most common type of dementia, so we're dealing with a different monster.  It's just that Alzheimer's gets all the attention.
Because what about the rest of us suffering from the other types of dementia? (WARNING: DO NOT GO DOWN THE INTERNET RABBIT HOLE OF HEALTH)  Why aren't there studies for my dad's disease?  Why doesn't his condition, which is the worst of the fucking worst getting the research, the breakthroughs, the drugs and the press that Alzheimer's does?  Why don't we even get a sliver of good news? 

I don't believe that the doctors and researchers are doing nothing.  I know this disease is so complex and uncharted territory.  I don't think that any disease is less worthy of study (well, maybe peripheral diseases like ED and constant dry eyes.  Seriously. let's fix people's brains before we worry about how to let old men have boners)  I empathize for people and family struggling with Alzheimer's, I do.  It's heartbreaking to be in this situation and to see someone you love struggle.  I'm just angry and I miss my dad.  I want some good news.  But what I really want, is hope.

Self Esteem

I've been keeping word document of jobs I have applied to and the date that I applied on for my own personal book keeping. Single spaced, size 11 font, remove space between paragraphs (which by the way, is a feature of microsoft office 10 that I hate and think is stupid, because it's visually stupid and and excessive. And, fyi: that extra space between paragraphs is not going to make your 3 page paper miraculously turn into the 5 page paper you need) list that is roughly half of a page full. I strike out the listing when I get the thanks but no thanks email. About 70% of the positions have a strike out through them, and the only reason I haven't struck out the rest of the positions is because I will cry.

I received another thank you for your interest/application but you have not been considered for the position email yesterday. And while I do appreciate the courtesy, it still stings. At least I got some sort of acknowledgement though. I discovered I wasn't considered for other jobs by either checking my application status, seeing the position re-posted, or seeing that the position has been filled and/or interviews were being held right now! (yes, that's so exciting for them. The rest of us not in the running are so happy.)

I knew this wouldn't be an easy process, and I knew it would take time. It would be a reality check to say the least. (It also doesn't help when your mom tells you "you always get jobs so easy!" and gives you a false sense of accomplishment.) But what I didn't expect was how quickly I would get demoralized and how much it would impact my self esteem and all other aspects of my life.

Such as: studying for the gre. I keep making excuses as to why I'm not studying, but the truth is I hate how studying makes me feel stupid. And when I don't score well on practice test, it just proves to me that I'm not smart enough to get into grad school.

My running. I'm pushing myself too hard at the gym and I know it. But I keep going to more and more fitness classes and pushing myself to the point of nausea because I feel like it's the only thing I have control over. I was at a 10 minute mile, and I'm roughly at a 9:15 mile now. But I need to be at a 9:00 minute mile to break 2 hours on my next half. So since I'm not there, I feel like I'm not doing anything

The dogs...as sweet as they are, try my patience every day. I get frustrated with Bailey more often, yet anything that anyone says remotely negative or concerning I automatically go on the defense. I'm on the defense a lot.

My face is breaking out horribly, which makes me really self conscious. I'm dealing with acne at twenty-fcking-eight, which is bull sht. So even if I was to get some sort of interview, I'm worried about how my skin will make me appear.

I'm so lonely. I don't know anyone here except dr soc, and it's hard for my people who have lives to have time to visit. And as for meeting people, well, see the vicious cycle known as not having a job to provide me human contacts, and lack of funds to do anything with the human contacts I don't have.

Good Fcking Morning!

It's 2:30 pm. Do you know where your construction crew is?

Nope, but I can tell you where they aren't, and that would NOT be working on the house right next door to me. That construction zone is done for the day.

And it's probably done for today because construction work and the loudest spanish radio possible started at 6:45 AM. SIX FOURTY-F*CKING-FIVE AM. (I get shouty if I the number before the : is less than 7)

Yeah, that was how Mike, me, the dogs and probably the whole neighborhood were woken up this morning. Spanish radio blasting from the house next door along with hammering, clattering and drilling. I did manage to go back to sleep, but when I did get up of my own free will my morning routine was cranky due to the interruption. (I was dreaming about breaking out of prison I think. Now I'll never know if whoever I was was able to get out)

I know they typical workday starts at 8, and most people are probably already or about to get up to get ready. But some of us are kept women, and the man that keeps me doesn't have to be in his office until 10 (have I mentioned he loves his job?). And also, we live in the 'burbs, there are plenty of other families who have young kids, and don't have a typical workday schedule. In other words, we're still sleeping!

Any way you slice it, 6:45 is NOT the time to start construction and it is most definitely NOT the time to blast the radio either. Especially if you are going to blast the radio under my bedroom window, and even more so, make sure that my house's backyard isn't adjoined to the leasing agent's back yard. Yeah.

Stress Management

Everyone is telling me I need to manage my stress. Let's file that under the no shit sherlock category. It's pretty obvious I need to do so. My chest constricts several times a day. I get anxious and nervous just as often. I'm on the constant verge of tears and almost any little thing can start them.

I know that stress is a natural part of life. I just have a ridiculous amount of crap going on right now, and all that ridiculous amount of crap is really stressful crap. I know that I need to manage it. But the problem isn't that I haven't found the time to try to calm down and relax. It's that I don't have any place to do so.

I have no place I can mentally check out. School is school, where I need to be a senior student with 18 credit hours so I can graduate. Work, while not stressful in the slightest, is still work. But home is where my biggest stressers and things I worry about most are. My dog and my dad.

I'm constantly worried I'm going to come home to bad news. That Bailey lunged at another person, or another ticket or worse a citation. Or that the hateful neighbor has taken action. I'm worried that my dad has had a bad day, or walked the dog by himself. I worry that he'll get lost, hasn't eaten lunch or instead eaten every single snack in the house instead of lunch. I'm worried that when I talk to dr soc at night that if we start talking about my dog we'll get in a fight about her. And I hate that when the stress does get to be too much for me to handle and I break down, he's not here to let me sob on his shoulder.

So yes, I know I need to f*cking manage my stress. But until I find a place to do so, I'm pretty much shit out of luck.

Tired

I am tired. Of so many things.

• I am tired of balancing 18 credit hours, a part time job, a long distance relationship, automatically going to worry about my dad, no one listening to me and a misbehaving dog.
• I am tired that as soon as I balance all of the above something shifts and I'm off balance again.
  
• I am tired of not acknowledging how stressed I am.
• I am tired of Bailey being ornery, being embarrassed over my dog's behavior and her lack of basic obedience.
• I am tired of hunting for time to train her and not finding it.
• I am tired of all the training "assvice" on the web that says my dog's behavior is all my fault. (read all about it in tomorrow's blog).
  
• I am tired of accepting my dog as is, but that other people do not, and the assvice from those people on how to take care/discipline her.
• I am tired of knowing no matter what training I implement won't ever be good enough.
• I am tired of the line in the sand dr soc and I have over her.
• I am tired of his dog being so much better than mine.
• I am tired of banging my head against a brick wall when trying to get my dad to have better health habits.
  
• I am tired of worrying about the best way to take care him and that I need to do so in the first place.
• I am tired of always f*cking multitasking, inevitably dropping something while doing so and the feeling of ineptness that accompanies that.
• I am tired of trying to be perfect for everyone else.
• I am tired of being in fear that I will fail again, and people telling me it will be ok when they have never been in my position before.
• I am tired of that even though I'm working my ass off and doing well in school I'm still not proud of myself.
• I am tired of walking a few miles to and from school even though I take the bus to campus.
• I am tired of my bus being more of an inconvenience than a benefit.
• I am tired of being a poor college student.
• I am tired of not having the time to regularly work out even if it is just to clear my head.
• I am tired of my jeans not fitting and not having the time or energy to fix that, or even the money to just get new ones.
• I am tired of back burner stuff becoming front burner stuff. Especially when the front burner stuff remains on the front burner on high.
• I am tired of having burners.
• I am tired of micro-managing my day into half hour increments.
• I am tired of constantly revamping those half hours into my schedule, and having to shuffle things around.
• I am tired of stressing when something goes wrong and not being able to competently deal with it like I have before.
• I am tired of not having time to see my friends.
• I am tired of not being able to see my boyfriend.
• I am tired of when I do get to do something fun , that I have to plan for it, and that I have to do so much work before hand that I can't enjoy myself fully.

I. Am. Tired.

Second Shift

Have you ever heard of the woman's 2nd shift? It's all the domestic stuff a woman does after she gets home from her job, which is usually the bulk of the housework and child rearing. Now I don't claim to be a neat freak. In fact, I'm pretty messy when left to my own devices. (hence why dr soc thinks I am a closeted hoarder) But when I have my own apartment (and lived w/my ex) I totally had a 2nd shift.

So I was kvetching to my almost mil about it a little because I felt that he wasn't respecting my house work crazy ways. And she explained to me as an older and wiser woman: "well honey, the woman's always going to do more house work then the man."

I call BULL SHIT.
(actually I did snort when she told me this)

But to him, (her son who at the same time was complaining to his mother about me) I was a control freak because I didn't (and still don't) think the kitchen was an appropriate place to take off and leave your pants. Or that the living room banister was the place to drape ties and dress shirts and the floor was where dirty socks went (apparently the 5 sorted laundry baskets were just too hard). Taking the trash bag out of the out garbage can but then leaving it in the middle of the floor and forgetting to put a new bag in because something more exciting came along didn't count as taking out the trash. And squirting a blob of dish soap in the sink did not constitute as doing the dishes. However, if I left a dish in the sink, it received the aforementioned blob of dish soap along with a heavy sigh of exasperation. But water rings/dish marks on all my wood furniture was acceptable behavior since the coasters were stacked in their holder on the other table.

So, call me crazy since I didn't want to pick up after a spoiled 27 year old boy.

I don't mind a little house work here and there. But after living with my ex (and after I escaped that trap as well), I vowed I would not pick up after anyone over the age of 5 (or has 4 legs and a tail) ever again. Because that 2nd shift was bull shit.

America's Pastime

I love going to baseball games. Mind you, I don't want to play and would rather watch paint dry then watch a game on tv. But I love going to a stadium. Though there's something about the food at a baseball stadium that just makes me eat.

And when I eat at a baseball game, I EAT. I went to a Reds game with my chapter once, and here is what I ate: a hot dog, beer, a pretzel, I helped a friend with their nachos, and my boyfriend at the time had a bag of peanuts that I kept helping myself too (he said I could-and even if he didn't it wouldn't have mattered, sharing food w/Sarah is implied when you date me). We're in the 7th or 8th inning when the cotton candy guy walks by and I say "Oh , I want that too!"
At that point my boyfriend looked over at me with a mixture of slight amazement and slight horror and goes "my god! Where do you put all of that?"

Anyway, yesterday I went to baseball game with some friends because the seats were $2. Yep, local event, America's pastime, cheap (I made up for the ticket cost in food but whatev), fun times with friends, so, rock. Well, it being a baseball game, I have to have a hot dog. You have to get a hot dog at a baseball game. (No, I don't know what's in them, no I don't want to find out. So don't be that douche who feels the need to ruin it m'kay). And also, I had to have a beer because of course I do.

My high school band runs the concession stands for the stadium, so I like to patronize them and help out. But the line I was in was taking fo-ev-er and all I want is a beer and hot dog. So I finally get up the register, smile and place my order. Yeah, the line was slow, but I don't have to be an asshole to the guy because of it. I have my id ready because they card anyone who looks under 30, and I know I look like young.

First the guy asks me to take out my id from my wallet, which is fine. Then he takes it from me and keeps looking at it, the picture, and me.
dude: "Is this your sister?"
me: "no." (and she's younger and than me anyway, and she's legal too, so whatever).
dude: "There are no freckles in this picture."

I got this new license when my wallet was stolen in March, I'm wearing my glasses in it, and you can't see freckles in a driver's license picture anyway. And now by this point, I've been waiting 15 minutes in line just to order and now this guy my dad's age is all but accusing me of having fake id. So I get pissy and attitudy with him.

me: "I've been sunbathing this summer. Believe it, I am 27 years old."

He gives me a doubtful look and rings in the beer anyway as I stare him down with a stony look. We finally get to our seats and I text dr soc about what went down because I was pretty agitated. And he was offend to the proper level that a boyfriend should be and sympathetically texed back that the beer probably wasn't even worth it was it?

me: "no, it was definitely not worth my level of indignation."

2 + 2 = Oh Right, You're a Bitch

Person X: And you are doing pharmacy?
Me: ah, well, I wanted to, but turns out chemistry was just too hard for me.
Person X: yeah, when your mom told me that's what you wanted to do, I thought: "but she's not good in math!"
Me: (defensively) actually, I'm quite good in math. I like math even. It's science I'm not great in and had a hard time with.
Person X: Oh that's right. Well, I knew it was something you weren't good at. But you're doing something much better suited for you now.
Me: yes, sociology is a lot easier for me, a better fit. And I'm doing well this semester. Thanks.

Still me in my head: wow, what a backhanded compliment? You shrew, I know you think I'm stupid. Not good at math my ass. I know this: if a = b and a = you're a bitch, then b = it's no wonder your husband cheated on you for 10 years and still left you.

Low of me? Yes.

But stupid? No.