In junior high, highschool, college, and later life I've had the most amazing group of friends that have come into my life. They have been amazing and have been there for me through the good times and the bad. With that said, some of the times when we've been together we've created some of the bad. Most of them.
Where I'm from, all ages hung out with all ages. At the time it seemed cool, but now I look back and some of those people were robbing the cradle. I grew up with the Brookwood Bunch. Everybody wanted to hang with us. I was cool by association. I lived in the Cove, but that was still in the neighborhood so I was good. The Brookwood Bunch lived in a country club neighborhood south of Jackson, and it was fabulous. All growing up we would take our parents' golf carts at age 10 or younger and take turns ordering food on each others parent's tab depending on who got in trouble last. Boys loved us (my friends) and girls wanted to be our friends (even mine!). After 8th grade I got boobs, a new hair do, put make-up on, and met Anti Christ. I didn't get to have as much fun in high school after him because he was evil.
So in highschool I was kind of a nerd/athlete/cool person. I had my honor class friends, my athlete friends, and my "Morgan just do it" friends. The "Morgan just do it" friends were 1950's Super Mom, K, J, and sometimes M Jane. We decided to name ourselves US 5, and I'm so goobed out when I think back on it. J, M Jane, and I played sports together. At one point, we all quit the basketball team at the same time because our coach had gone bat shit crazy. J was good friends with the bat shit crazy coach and was giving her a heart felt speech on why she was quitting. While she was doing that, I was in the hallway screaming the Spanish alphabet because I had a test the next period. I had to go in after J, and the coach said that this was all my fault and she didn't care if I quit because I talk too much anyway. I didn't realize J and the bat shit crazy coach heard me screaming "AH, BEH, CE" and so on during the talk. No wonder she hated me.
1950's Super Mom, K, and J got me into a lot of trouble in school. Those 3 got away with murder, and I got in trouble for taking too long to go to the bathroom. The worst was when I cut class when there was a substitute for the hardest, meanest teacher in school to go hang out with them in a class where the teacher was on methamphetamine. I walked in the class after lunch and hung out with them in the classroom like I belonged there. It took the meth teacher 20 minutes to figure out I wasn't supposed to be there, and she went into a meth rage. We tried to convince her that I'd been in her class all year long, but she found out we were lying. The meth teacher told my hardest, meanest teacher what I did, and the hardest, meanest teacher called me and told me to apologize to the meth teacher. Why?? She's on METH! Anyway, 1950's Super Mom, K, and J said they would get her a card and a present. I handed the meth teacher her present and card and thought I was done with it. The next Monday morning of school, the hardest, meanest teacher opened the gates of hell on my ass. Apparently my stupid ass friends bought a naked plastic blonde haired doll as the present and a card that said "The only thing I don't miss about you is your terrible morning breath." The hardest, meanest teacher came up with homework and homework passes that I couldn't have, book reports and book report passes I couldn't have, and a trip to the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta I couldn't attend. This was all anounced after she made me sit in the back of the room, and I had to stay there the remainder of the year. Needless to say, the 3 of them didn't have anything happen to them. Typical.
My college friends and I were known as "The A Team" or "The Cult" to some people, but most people referred to us as "The Wolf Pack". We weren't aware of "The Wolf Pack" label until after college. All we did was have a good time and date a few guys. Why do people have to hate?? "The A Team" as I would like to think of us consisted of 12 girls that hardly ever left each others sides. Most of the time we traveled in packs of 3. It's just how we worked. We were there for each other, no matter how crazy the other one would be. Here are the names of the famous "A Team": LM-most beautiful girl you'll ever see. She was shy around those who didn't know her and funny as hell around her true friends. When LM was single for a hot minute, one of our friends went ape shit because the guy the she was obsessed with was nuts about LM. What do you say?? I'm sorry I'm hotter than you? I wouldn't know. EB-she was the grandma who would go out big one night but went to bed at 8:00pm every other night of the week. She was the comic relief and wouldn't let anybody get us down. Manic-she was the one that was way up or would get after your ass for giving her a bad look. One of the funniest and most fun girls you'll ever meet. Ramona-she was the rational one that would tell you what you need to hear no matter how bad you didn't want to hear it. She was one of the leaders that would take anyone down that messed with us. Bonkey-she was the fun one who was always up for a good time. She would always know what was going on and made sure we were there. Kel Bel-she never really got into much trouble with us, but when we did we laughed about it amongst ourselves. She took me to Knoxville a few times when visiting her now husband. Enough said. Dirty Mexican-she was a hot mess and we were scared what she was going to do next. She, also, is one of the funniest people I know and is my cousin's cousin. On her birthday she fell out of her window on the second story of her house. The only thing that broke her fall was the awning above the door. Me-well I'd like to think I was perfect and great, and I made everyone happy all the time. I'm leaving off a few people, because they probably don't want me to mention them. If you're reading this you probably know who they are.
My late in life friends are my "grown up" friends. No more keg parties (without a kegerator), party punch surprise, or food with carbs. My serious conversations consist of job stress, weight gain, and fertility. I still get to hear about boy troubles, but it's not as fun because we're married to them. We don't chase them now, we run from them.
There are so many stories with these amazing friends of mine that I'll share sporadically throughout my blog, but for now they are safe. These women have helped me grow through all my many stages of life. My friends are my lifeline, and I will always be there for them whenever they need me. Also, I am going to stop judging people when I first meet them. This is an ongoing task that I'm sure I will complete within my 30s.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Anal Adam
Ok so my husband has a couple of sides to him such as Hornet Head and Bunny, but his most famous side is Anal Adam. The older he gets, the worse it gets. Anal Adam is an attorney, need I say more. We recently went out to eat to a lovely dinner at a very nice steak house. Before we left he said that I'm not getting a dessert or an appetizer because we'll have so much food and it's too expensive and our bill can go up real quickly. These are my restrictions before we get in the car.
The whole way there he asks me why I'm going that way, do I know how much the speed limit is, how fast am I going, and reminded about the dessert/appetizer agreement. It wasn't an agreement at all, by the way! When we got there he pulled my chair out for me (Bunny), and started to ask me what I wanted to eat. When he asks me a question its an interrogation. I told him I was thinking the lamb or the calf, and he said asked me why. After many questions that obviously didn't justify either to be my meal, he told me to just get the steak. When the waitress came back, I was so mad I asked her what her favorite appetizer was, what was the best seller between lamb and calf and why, what she though about the fish of the day, and to bring the dessert menu when we're done.
After that, we started talking about future places to live. He preceeded to tell me that he found this beautiful home on 16 acres in the middle of nowhere. I listened to him tell me about this house, and I told him it sounds awesome. I did, however, bring up the fact that we will be raising kids at our future home and for him to also consider a home in a neighborhood. You would have thought I told him one of our dogs died. That's when both Hornet Head and Anal Adam emerged. He accused me of not wanting to live in a house on land where he had always dreamed, and he didn't understand why I didn't want to live at this house that was just an idea .5 seconds ago. He then interrogated me saying that if I want him to keep his mind open about a neighborhood home that means I'm against us living at this house or any other house on land. He then said, "So what you're saying is is that you don't want to live in a house on land like we always wanted , you only want to live in a house in a neighborhood where we're going to have to get rid of the dogs??" I literally felt two horns pop through my head. I may have raised my voice at him a little and I may have said a few 4 letter words in response to his extremely stupid comment. I really can't say because all I remember was seeing red.
The ladies behind us kind of got quieter, and they started to eavesdrop. So rude! I'm trying to have a quiet fight in the middle of a nice restaurant with my husband, and these women are listening in on us. I would never think of doing something like that. Stephen and I ended up resolving the issue because he forgot who was dealing with. We ended the night flirting at the bar and kissing in front of people. We're not going back to that restaurant again.
This is what Anal Adam, Hornet Head, and Bunny do to me, and I love them more and more every day. He's nuts, but he does cook, clean, and put up with me. I must say that I wake up each morning wondering what that little maniac will do next because he always manages to spice up my life in some way or another.
The whole way there he asks me why I'm going that way, do I know how much the speed limit is, how fast am I going, and reminded about the dessert/appetizer agreement. It wasn't an agreement at all, by the way! When we got there he pulled my chair out for me (Bunny), and started to ask me what I wanted to eat. When he asks me a question its an interrogation. I told him I was thinking the lamb or the calf, and he said asked me why. After many questions that obviously didn't justify either to be my meal, he told me to just get the steak. When the waitress came back, I was so mad I asked her what her favorite appetizer was, what was the best seller between lamb and calf and why, what she though about the fish of the day, and to bring the dessert menu when we're done.
After that, we started talking about future places to live. He preceeded to tell me that he found this beautiful home on 16 acres in the middle of nowhere. I listened to him tell me about this house, and I told him it sounds awesome. I did, however, bring up the fact that we will be raising kids at our future home and for him to also consider a home in a neighborhood. You would have thought I told him one of our dogs died. That's when both Hornet Head and Anal Adam emerged. He accused me of not wanting to live in a house on land where he had always dreamed, and he didn't understand why I didn't want to live at this house that was just an idea .5 seconds ago. He then interrogated me saying that if I want him to keep his mind open about a neighborhood home that means I'm against us living at this house or any other house on land. He then said, "So what you're saying is is that you don't want to live in a house on land like we always wanted , you only want to live in a house in a neighborhood where we're going to have to get rid of the dogs??" I literally felt two horns pop through my head. I may have raised my voice at him a little and I may have said a few 4 letter words in response to his extremely stupid comment. I really can't say because all I remember was seeing red.
The ladies behind us kind of got quieter, and they started to eavesdrop. So rude! I'm trying to have a quiet fight in the middle of a nice restaurant with my husband, and these women are listening in on us. I would never think of doing something like that. Stephen and I ended up resolving the issue because he forgot who was dealing with. We ended the night flirting at the bar and kissing in front of people. We're not going back to that restaurant again.
This is what Anal Adam, Hornet Head, and Bunny do to me, and I love them more and more every day. He's nuts, but he does cook, clean, and put up with me. I must say that I wake up each morning wondering what that little maniac will do next because he always manages to spice up my life in some way or another.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
My Night in Atlanta
I really don't know where to begin with my little story. First, the reason I went to Atlanta was to meet my new region I will be working in with my job. That's the only reason I went there, so I don't know why I said first. We had an amazing dinner, I stayed at a 5 star hotel, and went to the 5 star hotel bar and, oh, I met Vince Vaughn.
I was sitting with my co-worker, and I looked up and there before me was the 7ft best actor of all time. I stood up walked straight up to him, introduced myself, and tried to get Vince Vaughn to hang out with me. For some reason, he didn't want to. I pulled the "I'm a southern girl from Jackson, MS" card, and that didn't even work. I was so pissed that I then started to insult him to my other co-workers. This awesome actor shook my hand, said "hello, nice to meet" you, and couldn't have been nicer. I on the other hand was not. I said, "You know he's not THAT famous. I mean he hasn't even won an Oscar." Who am I?? The embarrassment train didn't stop there either.
My 2 co-workers and I were not leaving while Vince Vaughn was there, I don't even feel I can call him by his first name. At one point in the night, with some liquid encouragement, I went to Vince Vaughn's table, sat beside him, grabbed his face with BOTH hands, and said, "You know you're not as famous as you think you are". His friend, The Enforcer, grabbed my hand and tried to steer me away from Vince Vaughn because I, not only, grabbed his face but insulted him. My co-workers were laughing at me because they couldn't believe what they were seeing.
After the bar was closing, I decided to do a third try at hanging out with Vince Vaughn. I told him, "Vince, I'm from Jackson, MS and it's not everyday I come to Atlanta and hang out. Can't we all just hang out." Both my co-workers were laughing at me because they couldn't believe what they were seeing. It was also because they were so embarrassed, like I was when I woke up the next day. The coolest thing thats ever happened to me, and I made a total idiot out of myself.
If anyone knows Vince Vaughn, please tell him I apologize for being completely star struck and then insulting him because I was so upset he shut me down on hanging out with me. My other co-worker did hang out with him. He was acting way cooler than me/not like a psycho stalker. I did find out that they remembered my name because The Enforcer had to stay busy keeping me away from his friend and because Vince Vaughn has a phobia about people touching his face. Who wouldn't want a total stranger putting both their hands on their face at a bar???
So I do have some advice from my experience from meeting a super famous cool actor. Don't talk to them too much because they don't want to talk to you no matter where you are from. Don't go sit by them without them asking you. Don't touch their face and definitely don't insult them. If you follow my advice you will have a very pleasurable experience I think. I will probably be depressed about my encounter for the rest of January, and I will definitely be embarrassed everytime I see one of his awesome movies. If I ever see anyone famous again I am just going to my room because I've probably been black balled anyway.
I was sitting with my co-worker, and I looked up and there before me was the 7ft best actor of all time. I stood up walked straight up to him, introduced myself, and tried to get Vince Vaughn to hang out with me. For some reason, he didn't want to. I pulled the "I'm a southern girl from Jackson, MS" card, and that didn't even work. I was so pissed that I then started to insult him to my other co-workers. This awesome actor shook my hand, said "hello, nice to meet" you, and couldn't have been nicer. I on the other hand was not. I said, "You know he's not THAT famous. I mean he hasn't even won an Oscar." Who am I?? The embarrassment train didn't stop there either.
My 2 co-workers and I were not leaving while Vince Vaughn was there, I don't even feel I can call him by his first name. At one point in the night, with some liquid encouragement, I went to Vince Vaughn's table, sat beside him, grabbed his face with BOTH hands, and said, "You know you're not as famous as you think you are". His friend, The Enforcer, grabbed my hand and tried to steer me away from Vince Vaughn because I, not only, grabbed his face but insulted him. My co-workers were laughing at me because they couldn't believe what they were seeing.
After the bar was closing, I decided to do a third try at hanging out with Vince Vaughn. I told him, "Vince, I'm from Jackson, MS and it's not everyday I come to Atlanta and hang out. Can't we all just hang out." Both my co-workers were laughing at me because they couldn't believe what they were seeing. It was also because they were so embarrassed, like I was when I woke up the next day. The coolest thing thats ever happened to me, and I made a total idiot out of myself.
If anyone knows Vince Vaughn, please tell him I apologize for being completely star struck and then insulting him because I was so upset he shut me down on hanging out with me. My other co-worker did hang out with him. He was acting way cooler than me/not like a psycho stalker. I did find out that they remembered my name because The Enforcer had to stay busy keeping me away from his friend and because Vince Vaughn has a phobia about people touching his face. Who wouldn't want a total stranger putting both their hands on their face at a bar???
So I do have some advice from my experience from meeting a super famous cool actor. Don't talk to them too much because they don't want to talk to you no matter where you are from. Don't go sit by them without them asking you. Don't touch their face and definitely don't insult them. If you follow my advice you will have a very pleasurable experience I think. I will probably be depressed about my encounter for the rest of January, and I will definitely be embarrassed everytime I see one of his awesome movies. If I ever see anyone famous again I am just going to my room because I've probably been black balled anyway.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Holiday Fun
Some things good and bad have come my way, and I've made the extra effort to read about how I can handle them as well as go to an amazing therapist. What I have come to find is that not only do I not have the answers, but neither does anyone else. I'm a hot mess, but so is everyone else. That's the good news. For some reason there are people that, not only, take their life too seriously, but, also, take your life too seriously. I'm a walking apology. I always apologize about what I think other people think I'm doing is wrong. Who gives a shit?? It's you're life, and you're the person in control with what happens to you. I've always lived to please other people, and I can't help that. I will continue to be the pathetic person that wants everyone to like them, but I will also be the goofy comic relief that people will want to talk to when bored at a stupid "we came, thank you for having us" party. Holidays are so fun to me because Anal Adam and I remember that it's just us in this whole marriage thing, and we don't have to put up with anyone else's opinions or bullshit.
1950's Super Mom and I went Christmas shopping not too long ago. She was so excited to have a shopping partner, see me, and vent to me. She should never go shopping with a person that doesn't have kids. I swear, everything out there is so cool, and I want to ask Anal Adam to buy it for me for Christmas. I don't mean to be tacky, but pretty much everything my Godchildren get for Christmas is a result of me. We shopped for kids, ate a grown up lunch, and then shopped again for the kids. We got a big kid basketball goal (me), a hide and seek animal thing (me), and a galloping horse stick (me).Why is shopping for kids so much fun?? I'm pretty sure it's because the buyer (1950's Super Mom) is stupid like her Godsister. Fortunately for me, Dr.DO, 1950's husband, and I are the best of friends. Dr. DO thought our Christmas shopping trip went way overboard, so 1950's Super Mom gave him the "you wanna go there??" stare and he gave her the "haha, I was just kidding" smile and everything went away. Of course everything ended in the women's favor, duh.
I remember when I found out that Santa wasn't real. All I wanted for Christmas was a Baby Shivers. It was the new and improved baby that cried and shivered when it was cold and you weren't doing your job as its mother. Christmas morning I ran downstairs, and Santa had all our stuff laid out on the fire place. I went straight for the Baby Shivers. I couldn't believe he read all those letters/I was such a nerd. I was soooo excited I ripped the box open, and there before me was an African American Baby Shivers. All I could say between sobs and cries was, "Santa doesn't know who I am!!!" My sister quickly realized that Santa wasn't real which meant neither was the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny. That bitch decided to tell me her discovery as well. Needless to say, kid aren't as stupid as you think.
I'm not sure how anyone else found out about Santa, but that sucked. My poor mom cried for days. She should have cried for joy, because that was a pretty brilliant observation on my part. The main thing I want people to take away from this story is that no one realized how smart I was, and now you do.
1950's Super Mom and I went Christmas shopping not too long ago. She was so excited to have a shopping partner, see me, and vent to me. She should never go shopping with a person that doesn't have kids. I swear, everything out there is so cool, and I want to ask Anal Adam to buy it for me for Christmas. I don't mean to be tacky, but pretty much everything my Godchildren get for Christmas is a result of me. We shopped for kids, ate a grown up lunch, and then shopped again for the kids. We got a big kid basketball goal (me), a hide and seek animal thing (me), and a galloping horse stick (me).Why is shopping for kids so much fun?? I'm pretty sure it's because the buyer (1950's Super Mom) is stupid like her Godsister. Fortunately for me, Dr.DO, 1950's husband, and I are the best of friends. Dr. DO thought our Christmas shopping trip went way overboard, so 1950's Super Mom gave him the "you wanna go there??" stare and he gave her the "haha, I was just kidding" smile and everything went away. Of course everything ended in the women's favor, duh.
I remember when I found out that Santa wasn't real. All I wanted for Christmas was a Baby Shivers. It was the new and improved baby that cried and shivered when it was cold and you weren't doing your job as its mother. Christmas morning I ran downstairs, and Santa had all our stuff laid out on the fire place. I went straight for the Baby Shivers. I couldn't believe he read all those letters/I was such a nerd. I was soooo excited I ripped the box open, and there before me was an African American Baby Shivers. All I could say between sobs and cries was, "Santa doesn't know who I am!!!" My sister quickly realized that Santa wasn't real which meant neither was the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny. That bitch decided to tell me her discovery as well. Needless to say, kid aren't as stupid as you think.
I'm not sure how anyone else found out about Santa, but that sucked. My poor mom cried for days. She should have cried for joy, because that was a pretty brilliant observation on my part. The main thing I want people to take away from this story is that no one realized how smart I was, and now you do.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Anxiety + Panic Attack = Therapy
Recently I had a panic attack at my Global Sales Meeting. Not embarrassing AT ALL. I basically freaked out. I couldn't breathe or talk, I was crying uncontrollably, shaking, and, oh, I couldn't walk. This happened all in front of my whole company. It was awful! I would try to laugh it off, and it ended up turning into that cry laugh. It was definitely a "WTF, is this really happening right now, why me??" moment.
I have terrible anxiety, and I've had it ever since I can remember. I just thought I was weird as hell, and my mom would tell me my heart was racing. You can imagine how confused I was as a child shaking and crying like a freak telling people, "It's ok my heart's just racing,"and grown-ups were trying to send me to the hospital.
The older I got, the more frequent I would have attacks. Of course I always thought it was my heart just racing. My friends started telling me I was thinking about stuff too much. So when I would be crying, shaking, and feeling the sensation to vomit my diagnosis was my was heart racing and I was thinking too much. I was such a cool kid. I had a bowl cut with a perm on top, glasses, criss crossed teeth, and, occasionally, I would freak out like a lunatic scaring all grown-ups and friends. It was like icing on the damn cake. High school got better, but I think it was mostly because I developed boobs. Also, all high school girls are crazy.
I never had that many attacks in college except when I would get a boyfriend. After a while of dating, it was like I couldn't stand to be around them anymore. The thought of them touching me made me nauseated and I would start shaking. Really?? Heart racing and thinking too much my ass! Couldn't I just not like them anymore? It's like I became allergic to my boyfriends after we dated for a certain period of time. My friends in college didn't even try to diagnose me. They just told me how annoying they thought my boyfriends were, and they didn't like them. They did this after every boyfriend, mind you.
I started taking crazy pills during my parents divorce, and I LOVE them. I found out I had anxiety, and, of course, mine came with panic attacks. People, especially my sister, would tell me I need to go to a psychiatrist or a therapist. I would always think that I was completely normal, despite what Anal Adam says, so why would I need to go to a therapist. Plus, I have meds!
After the recent panic attack incident in front of hundreds of people hundreds of miles away, I decided to see a therapist. I absolutely love it! All I do is talk about myself, and he listens the entire 50 minutes. He's my new best friend! I saw a friend of mine the other day, and I whispered to her that I just got through seeing my therapist. She said, "I saw mine yesterday. I mean we're 30!" She's right! Every woman should be seeing a therapist. Women do so much, yet so often we don't take the time to take care of ourselves. We should still do all our many tasks only we can do, but, after we're done, we should go see our therapist at 8, get a facial at 9, massage at 11, and get our hair done at 1 for a girls night out until we decide we want to come home. This should help both men and women come up with stuff for their Christmas gifts and lists!!!
I have terrible anxiety, and I've had it ever since I can remember. I just thought I was weird as hell, and my mom would tell me my heart was racing. You can imagine how confused I was as a child shaking and crying like a freak telling people, "It's ok my heart's just racing,"and grown-ups were trying to send me to the hospital.
The older I got, the more frequent I would have attacks. Of course I always thought it was my heart just racing. My friends started telling me I was thinking about stuff too much. So when I would be crying, shaking, and feeling the sensation to vomit my diagnosis was my was heart racing and I was thinking too much. I was such a cool kid. I had a bowl cut with a perm on top, glasses, criss crossed teeth, and, occasionally, I would freak out like a lunatic scaring all grown-ups and friends. It was like icing on the damn cake. High school got better, but I think it was mostly because I developed boobs. Also, all high school girls are crazy.
I never had that many attacks in college except when I would get a boyfriend. After a while of dating, it was like I couldn't stand to be around them anymore. The thought of them touching me made me nauseated and I would start shaking. Really?? Heart racing and thinking too much my ass! Couldn't I just not like them anymore? It's like I became allergic to my boyfriends after we dated for a certain period of time. My friends in college didn't even try to diagnose me. They just told me how annoying they thought my boyfriends were, and they didn't like them. They did this after every boyfriend, mind you.
I started taking crazy pills during my parents divorce, and I LOVE them. I found out I had anxiety, and, of course, mine came with panic attacks. People, especially my sister, would tell me I need to go to a psychiatrist or a therapist. I would always think that I was completely normal, despite what Anal Adam says, so why would I need to go to a therapist. Plus, I have meds!
After the recent panic attack incident in front of hundreds of people hundreds of miles away, I decided to see a therapist. I absolutely love it! All I do is talk about myself, and he listens the entire 50 minutes. He's my new best friend! I saw a friend of mine the other day, and I whispered to her that I just got through seeing my therapist. She said, "I saw mine yesterday. I mean we're 30!" She's right! Every woman should be seeing a therapist. Women do so much, yet so often we don't take the time to take care of ourselves. We should still do all our many tasks only we can do, but, after we're done, we should go see our therapist at 8, get a facial at 9, massage at 11, and get our hair done at 1 for a girls night out until we decide we want to come home. This should help both men and women come up with stuff for their Christmas gifts and lists!!!
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
I'm 29 and I Can Bitch If I Want To
So I've been trying to sit down and write this particular post for a while. I'm just going to warn you, this might seem like I'm venting but it's really just me telling you like it is. Actually I can't lie, it's both.
Let's start at the beginning, and then you'll see where I'm coming from when I end at 29. The beginning of your 20's are awesome to say the least. You are carefree, wrinkle free, and cellulite free. Notice how everything ends in free. A hard day for me would be trying to figure out how I was going fit in a 2 hour workout, make it to the tanning bed, and get ready in less than 3 hours in time to go out at 10 PM. The following are some of the lengths I would go to to get ready. After applying mascara, I would separate each eyelash with a straight pin. The makeup had to be perfect or it would be reapplied. I only wore short skirts and dresses. The weren't skanky, but they were absurd to wear during the winter when I continued to wear them. Also, I would do sit-ups right before I went out.
My friends and I were called the "Wolf Pack", but we didn't know that. We thought we were called the "A Team". We all did the above getting ready routine, except for the eyelash thing and the sit-ups (I was the only one willing to go the extra mile). We thought we were the shit and that everybody liked us. The reality was that we looked stupid wearing dresses in 10 degree weather, and most people didn't like us. That didn't matter to us, though, because we loved having fun and everything we did was fun. Everybody in their early 20's travel in packs 0f 12 friends, minimun. If you see an early 20 year old alone, they have clearly been separated by accident from their pack.
I would rather pull out all my eyelashes than talk to and/or be a round an early 20 year old. Their skin looks like a baby's bottom, and they are the size of a toothpick with boobs. They probably think cellulite is some type of vegetable. I will say that the things some of them are wearing these days would have made me look like an old maid. Stop wearing spandex as a dress and please cover your tutu. Other than that, I don't want to hang around them because I'm just jealous. They're in their prime, and they suck.
Mid 20's is really fun but in a different way. You have a new job, you're in the business world, and you're meeting older interesting people that talk about things other than getting drunk. My mid 20's were bitter sweet. I was young in the business world, and business people were extra nice to me. I now know why these business people were being so nice. They were waiting until they had me where they wanted me turn me into their bitch slave. It's like the Hansel and Gretal story about the witch luring them into the ginger bread house. I'm Gretal because she was the girl and the ginger bread house is the job market. The nice business people were the witches that were going to be eating me alive in the ginger bread house.
S0 I'm the new young inexperienced moron in the job world on one hand and on the other hand I was old compared to those stupid college students when I went to home football games. That's when I REALLY hated people in their early 20's. The great thing I started to figure out in my mid 20's was a sense of grounding. I started to realize what I wanted in different aspects of my life. I met Anal Adam, many new great friends, and focused on my career path. I still acted like an idiot in most of my daily and nightly activities, but I was still just young enough where it was kind of okay, but don't do it again. I'd say that after 25 or 26 "stuff" started to go downhill and fast.
I'm not even going to talk about late 20's because it all mixes in with 29. So I'm 29, cellulite has taken over my body, I have adult acne, and I can't eat if I want to lose weight. Working out doesn't do what it once did to my body. I used to work out and lose weight. Now I work out and have to ice down every joint on my body. I fell the other day while running, and I have no explanation for it. Just tripped and fell on the busiest street in Jackson in front of 5 o'clock traffic. I've spent most of my income on facial products to get rid of this new adult acne. I have wrinkles and probably grey hair (I wouldn't know because I also pay to get my hair colored) due to my highly stressful job. I love my job, but it's my life. I get e-mails asking me if I received an e-mail that was sent right after a phone call that said I would be receiving an e-mail. Not only do I get ma'amed all the time, but I now expect it. I've been hearing the ticking of the infamous "biological clock". I thought that was a lie some woman came up with to get her husband to start having kids. According to people who like to throw out their unwanted opinions, it's hard to have kids at my late 29 age and I should stop doing anything fun if I plan on trying. I, then, look at them and say "Well I guess it wasn't meant to be."
I'm not going to lie, so far 29 has sucked! I'm the oldest of the 20 year olds, and I'm going broke trying to look like I'm still in my 20's. I can't wait to be 30 because I'll be the youngest of the 30's. I feel as though I'll even look younger since I'll be the youngest of an age group. I will say that I love where I am. I've got Anal Adam, 3 dogs, and the best friends who are always up for drinking some wine!
Let's start at the beginning, and then you'll see where I'm coming from when I end at 29. The beginning of your 20's are awesome to say the least. You are carefree, wrinkle free, and cellulite free. Notice how everything ends in free. A hard day for me would be trying to figure out how I was going fit in a 2 hour workout, make it to the tanning bed, and get ready in less than 3 hours in time to go out at 10 PM. The following are some of the lengths I would go to to get ready. After applying mascara, I would separate each eyelash with a straight pin. The makeup had to be perfect or it would be reapplied. I only wore short skirts and dresses. The weren't skanky, but they were absurd to wear during the winter when I continued to wear them. Also, I would do sit-ups right before I went out.
My friends and I were called the "Wolf Pack", but we didn't know that. We thought we were called the "A Team". We all did the above getting ready routine, except for the eyelash thing and the sit-ups (I was the only one willing to go the extra mile). We thought we were the shit and that everybody liked us. The reality was that we looked stupid wearing dresses in 10 degree weather, and most people didn't like us. That didn't matter to us, though, because we loved having fun and everything we did was fun. Everybody in their early 20's travel in packs 0f 12 friends, minimun. If you see an early 20 year old alone, they have clearly been separated by accident from their pack.
I would rather pull out all my eyelashes than talk to and/or be a round an early 20 year old. Their skin looks like a baby's bottom, and they are the size of a toothpick with boobs. They probably think cellulite is some type of vegetable. I will say that the things some of them are wearing these days would have made me look like an old maid. Stop wearing spandex as a dress and please cover your tutu. Other than that, I don't want to hang around them because I'm just jealous. They're in their prime, and they suck.
Mid 20's is really fun but in a different way. You have a new job, you're in the business world, and you're meeting older interesting people that talk about things other than getting drunk. My mid 20's were bitter sweet. I was young in the business world, and business people were extra nice to me. I now know why these business people were being so nice. They were waiting until they had me where they wanted me turn me into their bitch slave. It's like the Hansel and Gretal story about the witch luring them into the ginger bread house. I'm Gretal because she was the girl and the ginger bread house is the job market. The nice business people were the witches that were going to be eating me alive in the ginger bread house.
S0 I'm the new young inexperienced moron in the job world on one hand and on the other hand I was old compared to those stupid college students when I went to home football games. That's when I REALLY hated people in their early 20's. The great thing I started to figure out in my mid 20's was a sense of grounding. I started to realize what I wanted in different aspects of my life. I met Anal Adam, many new great friends, and focused on my career path. I still acted like an idiot in most of my daily and nightly activities, but I was still just young enough where it was kind of okay, but don't do it again. I'd say that after 25 or 26 "stuff" started to go downhill and fast.
I'm not even going to talk about late 20's because it all mixes in with 29. So I'm 29, cellulite has taken over my body, I have adult acne, and I can't eat if I want to lose weight. Working out doesn't do what it once did to my body. I used to work out and lose weight. Now I work out and have to ice down every joint on my body. I fell the other day while running, and I have no explanation for it. Just tripped and fell on the busiest street in Jackson in front of 5 o'clock traffic. I've spent most of my income on facial products to get rid of this new adult acne. I have wrinkles and probably grey hair (I wouldn't know because I also pay to get my hair colored) due to my highly stressful job. I love my job, but it's my life. I get e-mails asking me if I received an e-mail that was sent right after a phone call that said I would be receiving an e-mail. Not only do I get ma'amed all the time, but I now expect it. I've been hearing the ticking of the infamous "biological clock". I thought that was a lie some woman came up with to get her husband to start having kids. According to people who like to throw out their unwanted opinions, it's hard to have kids at my late 29 age and I should stop doing anything fun if I plan on trying. I, then, look at them and say "Well I guess it wasn't meant to be."
I'm not going to lie, so far 29 has sucked! I'm the oldest of the 20 year olds, and I'm going broke trying to look like I'm still in my 20's. I can't wait to be 30 because I'll be the youngest of the 30's. I feel as though I'll even look younger since I'll be the youngest of an age group. I will say that I love where I am. I've got Anal Adam, 3 dogs, and the best friends who are always up for drinking some wine!
Monday, August 22, 2011
Some People Suck, But Don't Mean Too
You know how people are rude or bitchy, and you just write them off and/or talk about them to your friends. I did the same thing, but these terrible people end up doing something nice to me. I, then, have to go back to my friends, retract all of my statements, and tell them that that old butthead person and I are now friends. Over time, I've come to realize that some people suck, but don't mean too. These people are all around us, and usually they are the one's we don't like immediately. I actually have thousands I've encountered over my lifetime. You don't have to be looking for them to find them, either. They are all around us acting like buttheads to us each and every day. I feel as though each one has a category too.
We have the "I don't mean to be rude, but" ones. FYI, non rude people don't start sentences with "I don't mean to be rude, but". If you have said this you probably suck, but don't mean too. I know you think you're not being rude by addressing the fact that your not trying to be rude, BUT the person your saying this to has already had a small internal panick attack. I know this because this phrase has been stated to me several times, and each time I experience heart palpatations. Not really sure why people even bother to excuse the fact that they are about to make you feel like a complete idiot. I'd rather someone say how they feel it and be totally rude quick and fast, like ripping off a bandaid. No need for the whole politically correct beginning phrase because what comes next is the meat and potatoes part thats really SUCKS! This category of people is usually bosses or people that you're doing jobs for, so just be cautious.
Next we have the people that you speak to, and they either do a face gesture or pretend as though they didn't even hear you. This category of folks really gets to me. I'm a huge "Hey, how are you?", and I usually get the Smirk Smilers. Smirk Smilers will range from people who are really shy to those who hate that you're alive. They suck, but don't mean too. I hate when I realize the person is just shy, because I've gone the whole day with mixed emotions about the person. I'll go from "This person doesn't like me, WHY!" to "This person is a total butthead and is so miserable and that they want to make everyone miserable". Later on the former Smirk Smiler will turn into my bestfriend's aunt's cousin, and we'll be best friends by the end of the day. The other Smile Smirkers that wish you weren't alive have decided your presence makes their life miserable, and it's most likely because you have more friends than they do. You see how Smirk Smilers can become exhausting. I've decided the people that blatantly ignore your presence did not have a proper kindergarten teacher to discipline them. My kindergarten teacher put me in the corner and gave me tickets every time I was rude and ignored my fellow students and teachers. I was grounded most of 1986. These poor people have sucked, but don't mean too since they were 5.
Last, but not least, are the evil Poker Face Friends. I can spot the Poker Face Friends from a mile away, so I don't have trouble with this group. However, individuals in this group are very difficult to decipher. You tell them everything about you, and they tell you the highlights of themselves. After they have gotten some of your secrets out of you, don't worry it happens to the best of us, they change the facts in their head, and they tell the new Poker Face Friend version to the entire public. The reason these people suck, but don't mean too is because their loved ones have not put them in a mental facility yet. I hate this category of people! My former Poker Face Friends have gone after my and my friends' ex-boyfriends (girl code!) and have spread Poke Face Friend lies about my friends. I don't think so!! The main thing is that these people need help, and it is our responsibility to not beat their face in but find them help.
There are those in life that just suck. If you do run across these people that suck, you should always take the high road. The high road being tell all your friends and their friends about this awful person and try to get them not to like this person either. First and foremost, make sure they suck, but don't mean too.
We have the "I don't mean to be rude, but" ones. FYI, non rude people don't start sentences with "I don't mean to be rude, but". If you have said this you probably suck, but don't mean too. I know you think you're not being rude by addressing the fact that your not trying to be rude, BUT the person your saying this to has already had a small internal panick attack. I know this because this phrase has been stated to me several times, and each time I experience heart palpatations. Not really sure why people even bother to excuse the fact that they are about to make you feel like a complete idiot. I'd rather someone say how they feel it and be totally rude quick and fast, like ripping off a bandaid. No need for the whole politically correct beginning phrase because what comes next is the meat and potatoes part thats really SUCKS! This category of people is usually bosses or people that you're doing jobs for, so just be cautious.
Next we have the people that you speak to, and they either do a face gesture or pretend as though they didn't even hear you. This category of folks really gets to me. I'm a huge "Hey, how are you?", and I usually get the Smirk Smilers. Smirk Smilers will range from people who are really shy to those who hate that you're alive. They suck, but don't mean too. I hate when I realize the person is just shy, because I've gone the whole day with mixed emotions about the person. I'll go from "This person doesn't like me, WHY!" to "This person is a total butthead and is so miserable and that they want to make everyone miserable". Later on the former Smirk Smiler will turn into my bestfriend's aunt's cousin, and we'll be best friends by the end of the day. The other Smile Smirkers that wish you weren't alive have decided your presence makes their life miserable, and it's most likely because you have more friends than they do. You see how Smirk Smilers can become exhausting. I've decided the people that blatantly ignore your presence did not have a proper kindergarten teacher to discipline them. My kindergarten teacher put me in the corner and gave me tickets every time I was rude and ignored my fellow students and teachers. I was grounded most of 1986. These poor people have sucked, but don't mean too since they were 5.
Last, but not least, are the evil Poker Face Friends. I can spot the Poker Face Friends from a mile away, so I don't have trouble with this group. However, individuals in this group are very difficult to decipher. You tell them everything about you, and they tell you the highlights of themselves. After they have gotten some of your secrets out of you, don't worry it happens to the best of us, they change the facts in their head, and they tell the new Poker Face Friend version to the entire public. The reason these people suck, but don't mean too is because their loved ones have not put them in a mental facility yet. I hate this category of people! My former Poker Face Friends have gone after my and my friends' ex-boyfriends (girl code!) and have spread Poke Face Friend lies about my friends. I don't think so!! The main thing is that these people need help, and it is our responsibility to not beat their face in but find them help.
There are those in life that just suck. If you do run across these people that suck, you should always take the high road. The high road being tell all your friends and their friends about this awful person and try to get them not to like this person either. First and foremost, make sure they suck, but don't mean too.
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