Don't speak... Just B Pretty: Home Bonding or Bondage?

Don't speak... Just B Pretty: Home Bonding or Bondage?: In case you are wondering, and I know that you are, nothing in your life is going well if you have to move home to live with your parents. T...

Home Bonding or Bondage?

In case you are wondering, and I know that you are, nothing in your life is going well if you have to move home to live with your parents. This is what my older brother told me the day I moved home to live with my mom. Apparently, it is a quote from Seinfeld when George has to move back in with his folks. It was kind of him to point out the obvious and though I would never say it to his face that did nominate him for MOTO (Master of the Obvious). That said for the past two months I have been living with my mom. Which to be honest has not been bad for me and I would like to say it has not been bad for my mom but I think it is best to let her speak for herself.  Too bad she does not have a blog.
There have been a few ups and downs so far, I have to remember to close the cupboard doors and silverware drawers. This is tricky because for the last some odd years I have not really been concerned with the open and shut case of kitchen cabinets. Honestly, I have not even been good at putting away the silverware in the correct slots.
Let me tell you the story. A few years back I was doing the weekly dishes and I was putting the silverware (or more like the Walmart version of silverware) away in the drawers. It was then that I realized; why be a silverware separatist. Let the silverware meet up and party before they are going to be used and abused again. It was then I decided to simply dump all silverware in the drawer and sift to find a specific utensil when needed. This made complete sense to me and because I was living by myself I am the only one that mattered, ergo this was what I did. Every once and a while my boyfriend at the time could be talked into cooking for me (begged more like it.. he was a very good cook, my mom and I still try to make this spinach salad that he made but we really aren't too sure of the recipe and I don't want to call up and be like I know you are a loser but can I have the recipe?) and he would separate my partying forks and spoons. Do not worry I would put them back together when I did the clean up.  But living with my mom I have to separate the utensils and also shut the drawers.
Add to that I have learned that when using a sponge in the kitchen sink it is important to rinse it out in cold water. This will alleviate a future smell in the rag or sponge. When I first moved in I was given a demonstration and I attempted to put this into practice. Attempted is a strong word let's say I did gave it the ole' college try. But apparently to no avail because the rags started to smell and I was then brought back to another demonstration added upon a practice run through to make sure not only were the rags rinsed with cold water but all potential suds and soap was rinsed out.  Apparently, partying utensils and smelly rags and sponges are not acceptable kitchen etiquette.
But this is not what I have come to blog about today. Today it is time to tell you of a funny conversation I have had with my mom while being her roommate.
Last night my mom and I were talking about the DNC removing God and then attempting a vote to put Him back in their platform. This conversation was done while watching the O'Reilly factor. Here is how this conversation went:
Mom: What were we talking about
Me: The DNC and their vote on putting God back into their platform
Mom: No, it was something else
Me: No, that is pretty much all we had talked about
Mom: No, I think I moved on to a different subject in my head
Me: Oh, I wasn't invited to that conversation
I think there are a lot of conversations occurring in my mom's head that I am not invited to. I can tell this by the sighing that occur at random intervals. This usually happens when I mention I want to change something in the house or more specifically my room. When I first moved in there was a treadmill in the middle of the room so I suggested we put the treadmill in the corner. By the deep sigh that accompanied my moms answer, I knew this was a suggestion that warranted a lot of thought. But alas, my mother caved and the treadmill got moved.
So I guess I am  not the only one who has to be retrained. Kitchen utensils unable to party and mold not allowed to grow must not come close to the frustration of having someone move in on your territory.  I suppose my mother will continue her deep breathing exercises and I will slowly learn to shut the cupboard doors and we will get used to each other. Up until the point it will be time to move out and though we will say differently to others, that point will come just in the nick of time.

Don't speak... Just B Pretty: Open up Mouth insert Foot Feast...

Don't speak... Just B Pretty: Open up Mouth insert Foot Feast...: There are times in life when you open your mouth only to insert your foot and start to eat the feast of regret. This has happened to me many...

Open up Mouth insert Foot Feast...

There are times in life when you open your mouth only to insert your foot and start to eat the feast of regret. This has happened to me many times because I tend to have a very small filter on what I think and what I say. This filter tends to thin depending on my mood, the time of the month, or who I am dealing with... so lets just say the filter is very arbitrary.  I come by this rightfully, I am not the only person in my family that has a tendency to say what we think without actually involving the act of thinking.
For example, my older sister likes say things to people with a good intent but when the words come out the positive meaning is completely lost.  I can distinctly remember years ago going to a wedding with Steph we were in line congratulating the bride and groom on their recent marriage.  I think Steph had her oldest daughter with her and the bride was saying how pretty Sammy was.  It was at this moment that Stephanie said, 'two plain looking people usually make the prettiest babies (pause) your babies are going to be super pretty'.  Now a good sister would get Steph out of the situation as fast as possible. But as you can imagine I am not a good sister. So instead, I started laughing and said 'you just told her she was plain looking on her wedding day, how rude are you?' Steph sputtered yet continued to hold her ground, 'yes but they will have pretty babies'.
Side note: In my family we are loud (already been established) but we are also wicked opinionated. If you are to get us around a table the volume of the conversation goes up in direct proportion to the argument taking place. I can remember one time my brother Dave convinced Steph and I to run a half marathon in Moab, Utah. He said it was all down hill through the canyon. As I was running up the hill in the canyon I thought 'down in my butt'. Fast forward to a Sunday dinner where I told Dave it was all up hill. Back and forth we went getting louder and louder.  The argument never ceased but we both walked away thinking we had one the debate. To this day Dave claims it to be down hill and I know it to be uphill.
I share this side note so you can understand why Stephanie did not back track out of her statement. To her it was a true statement and a blessing to have pretty babies. Regardless of the fact that on the most important day of a girls life (or so I have been told) a random friend called the bride plain looking.
But do not think that Steph is the only random one among my family. I have been caught asking the not pregnant girl when she is due. Or upon hearing that one of my friends is married saying out loud 'how is this possible she got married and I do not even have a date?' This would not have been so bad but the friend was right next to me.  One of the worst times was when I said to a guy 'You need to stop talking, I am really bored right now and want to talk about me'. This would not have been so bad if it hadn't been a date. Also if he hadn't continued to talk about whatever he was talking about... yeah, I know I did not even get a word in edgewise if you can believe it. I know you can't believe it but you should, it is true.
So fast forward to Saturday morning. So I can share with you the most mortifying moment of my life. Ok that is overtly dramatic but it stung my pride so I can allow for a little literary license. My nephew Lucas and his dad (my younger brother Dave) had decided to participate in a mini-triathlon last Saturday morning. Lucas had done the swimming part and had moved on to the bicycle portion for he race. But Dave was about to get into the water. I was standing there with my five year old nephew Tobin waiting to cheer on Dave. When a nice lady walked up to me, here is how the conversation went:

My mom laughing at me being called a Grandma

Her: Oh you must be Tobin's Grandma
Me: Uh No
Her: Oh you aren't his Grandma?
Me: No I am his Aunt, Dave's sister
Her: Really? It's just that Dave is so young
Me: Huh
Her: Oh I guess that is not a compliment to be called his Grandma
Me: (nothing I just looked at the woman what do you say to that? I am only 20 months older than my younger brother, if he is so young what am I??  I think I am going to get more Botox because apparently I am looking like his mother)
This is when my sister-in-law Natalie was kind enough to jump in and introduce me and point out the real Grandma in the situation. A few minutes later I told the story to my mom and while she and I laughed about it she said the following 'well, you don't have any make up on and your hair is pulled back so I can see where she is coming from' My response was 'seriously, you are going to say that to me? Do you like to kick me when I am down?' Back and forth my mom and I went laughing and getting louder this is prime joke opportunity and in my family we don't pass that up.
So next time you hear someone say something that just should have been kept in the space between their ears. Do not think it to be tough love or just an honest answer. Recognize it for what it really is someone who opened up their mouth to have the pleasure of gnawing on their foot. That is a tasty treat in my family.

Don't speak... Just B Pretty: Self Aware or Simply Stupid???

Don't speak... Just B Pretty: Self Aware or Simply Stupid???: I am going to say this for those that can't. I am going to say this because it needs to be said. I am going to say this because I am sick an...

Self Aware or Simply Stupid???

I am going to say this for those that can't. I am going to say this because it needs to be said. I am going to say this because I am sick and tired of it. I am going to say that it sucks to deal with stupid people and truth be told you can't fix stupid. Yeah, I said it.
Everyday I am required to do the walk of poo in the back yard to pick up the droppings of my doggie. This is not a pretty job and somedays it makes me gag. But this walk of poo is nothing compared to the shoveling of poo that takes place daily in the work environment. That's right everyday people have to deal with bosses who are stupid, rules that make no sense and micromanagement that is just downright dumb.
Today because I am in the mood I would like to share with you stories of people who I have dealt with who were no longer just embracing stupid but were in a full on make out session with it.
Recently, I had a job interview with a man who was a mid level executive at a small private company. Now in a job interview both the interviewer and the interviewee work to determine whether they are a good fit for each other. My boy here showed up ten minutes late and seemed to only be able to ask me one question:  if I was self aware. Here is how this conversation went:
Him: I need to employ people who are self aware
Me: I believe I am aware of what I can and cannot do
Him: Are you self aware?
Me: Yes
Him How self aware are you?
Me: In what context do you mean?
Him: Just how self aware you are in your self?
Me: Do you mean in the work environment?
Him: I need to employ people who are self aware
Do you get the gist of this painful twenty minute conversation?  I asked him in between the discussion of self awareness what he saw as the plan for the company in the next five years. His answer was to make more sales. After hearing his mediocre sales pitch by a man who professes a special awareness of himself.  I was pretty much over the interview. So here is the following answer to his self awareness question:
I am self aware enough to know that working for you would be painful. I am self aware enough to know that I am probably smarter than you and the opportunity to move up in the company would be hindered by your insecurities. I am self aware enough to know that if you are not willing to sell me on your company you are not planning to stay there in the long term yourself. I am self aware enough to know that a director with no long terms plans to stay does not make for a stable company. I am self aware enough to know that dealing with your version stupid is just not within my patience meter. I am self aware enough to know that the best I can do will not be brought out by someone who consistently thinks they are better than me.  Lastly, I am self aware enough to know that my flaws are minimal compared to my strengths and if you want to know what they are ask me an actual question.
I used to work for a manager who did not believe me when I told her information regarding my book of business. So she would bring in a co-worker, who was straight out of college, to determine if what I was doing was good or bad. The irony of this moment is not lost on me.  Unfortunately, this co-worker liked to keep information from her and so when I told the truth it was usually determined to be bad. One time it took a whole week and fourteen meetings (twice a day) for the co-worker to confess that the way they were creating a spreadsheet was incorrect and the solution I had come up with would work.  My answer to the problem was never used, they did not invent it so they were not going to implement it.

This picture has nothing to do with the content of this blog it is just pretty

When I was a hairdresser I used to have to fill out evaluations of my bosses. Initially, I thought this was a good thing and wrote the truth only to have nothing change or managers who read my evaluation get mad at me. So towards the end I started to write out fairy tales, that's right a fictional story about a hairdresser who falls in love with a handsome yet debonaire prince. Each evaluation continued the story through their romance, their trials and tribulations until the crowning evaluation paper (and my last one for the company) where the hairdresser realizes she can do better and dumps the prince on his butt. (This could be reason number 409 of why I am single)
I had determined from that moment on that you could not fix stupid, you could try but why beat your head against that headboard. If you are going to get screwed you should probably enjoy it and embracing mediocrity has never given anyone a happy ending.  Yeah, I said it.

Don't speak... Just B Pretty: Freshman Twelve...

Don't speak... Just B Pretty: Freshman Twelve...: It happens every year around this time, a group of young students enters a university or college to begin the long journey to a degree. Coul...

Freshman Twelve...

It happens every year around this time, a group of young students enters a university or college to begin the long journey to a degree. Could be a bachelor, associate, masters or the great PHD but it all starts with being a freshman. Gaining those 10 pounds, realizing you are supposed to be a responsible adult, and learning that no one is there to cook you dinner. This last point has always been a crack in my heart, I yearn for, no long for, someone who will cook me dinner. But since you have read previous posts about my cooking skills you can understand why this is a dream and not a reality.
Today I had lunch with my roommates from my freshman year in college and it brought me back to those days when we were all looking forward in life. My first year of college was at a school called Southern Utah University. I will admit to you that is was not the most academically challenging schools but it was wicked fun. I lived in the dorm room on the basement floor in an apartment with five other girls. The apartment next too us had six girls and the twelve of us became friends. I would like to tell you that there were no fights but we are girls.. are you kidding? I would also like to falsify to you that I was not the cause of some of those fights, but some day I have to meet my maker and I cannot tell that big of a lie.
What I want to share with you is some of the stories of my freshman year in college. This was before caller ID and smart phones, before everyone had a computer to start school with, and when tanning beds were not considered dangerous to your health.
There was a tanning bed that we went to regularly in the town.  The top part of the tanning bed did not have plexiglass anymore it only had wire to hold the lights in.  This could not have been a good tanning bed by any stretch of the imagination. But we went there because was cheap and we were stupid. One of my roommates was driving up to tan when the car she was driving decided to start on fire. This car was the thirteenth roommate.
It was a Hyundai Excel, red, hatchback. We drove up to Salt Lake and down to Cedar city in this car and it was a tank. I sat in the back seat on our journeys and remember waking up one time to a car that was swerving in and out of the lane. My roommates up front had decided it would be funny to wipe boogers on each other. You would think this would scare me but I just went back to sleep. (This was back in the day when I could sleep through anything) On one trip we decided to make a sign saying "Learn how to drive Dumb@#$" and flashed it to people who we considered slow or bad drivers. Yep the same girls who swerved around because of booger wars were judging other drivers. The irony is not lost on me.
For some reason we thought it was funny to prank phone call people. I am not sure how it got started but it took on a life of its own. This became a nightly ritual.  One of the favorite things to say was "I have a yeast infection" and then hang up.  We would laugh until you would have thought we had lost our minds. We borrowed clothes, we wore undergarments on top of clothes, we stole bra's and hid them, we put ice in people's beds, and we played every imaginable trick on each other. If you have not noticed already, that would be every imaginable trick... the idea of holding back did not exist at that moment in time.  This even included putting maxi pads on every car during a Christmas dance. To add insult to injury we added ketchup to our prank... I will let you figure the rest out.
One time a roommate brought home a huge bag of bubble gum and we decided we should make a bubble gum castle. So we stayed awake until 3 AM chewing mounds of bubble gum to make our castle. It was gross, it did not stay up and it consisted of bubble gum and spit. We were convinced, however, that if we let it "set" it would turn into a great castle. My jaw hurt for a week. I am not sure what happened to the castle.
My favorite prank was when I hid blue cheese under the bed of one of my roommates for a pay back. (I still think this is funny) Only I did not really get away with it because I hid the blue cheese in my own sock. Note to self, when playing a prank on someone do not use your own clothing.  Plus I was not very sly when I went to hide the blue cheese, I am going to say I have gotten better but we all know that truth.
Now you are saying to yourself, who does stuff like that. I will say it is and always will be the fresh crop of college students who are on their own for the first time in their lives. Yep, they are going to steal the christmas lights from the frat house and then let everyone blame the sorority. Yep, the are going to move around orange cones on the road. Yep, they are going to moon people and karaoke into the wee hours of the morning. And yes, they are going to date boys who rename themselves Ceasar Snobie, I wish I were making this one up.  It is the price you have to pay to transition over to adulthood. These women who I respect and love to this day brought me some of the weirdest moments of my life (which is saying something) and I will always owe them because it was with them that I began to understand who I was and the potential of what I could become.  Now it is just a matter of time to achieve that potential and stop having the sense of humor of a twelve year old. That time is coming, any day now.... possibly... maybe... well, probably not.