Opinion, Story, Uncategorized

Mother’s Day When You’re Trying To Become a Mom

Mother’s Day is suppose to be a time to celebrate the sweet ones who birthed us or raised us. Sometimes though, it’s a painful reminder. If you’ve lost a parent, lost a child, or are trying to have a child, seeing all of these cheerful posts can hurt.

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After my mom lost her mother in 2014, she had us stop celebrating Mother’s Day with her. It was a painful reminder to her that she couldn’t call her mom, send her a card, or tell her Happy Mother’s Day. Almost four years later, it’s safe to say she’s still in the Anger phase of grief, I can’t blame her – but more on that later. My mom tells us that she doesn’t need a special day of the year to feel our love and I fully agree with that statement.

When Motherhood is a sorority that you’re desperately trying to pledge to, rejection can be hard. I read an article this morning that if you’ve only been trying for 8 months that you have no cause to complain, but I’m going to have to disagree.

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Trying to plan a pregnancy is hard, especially when you have so many items that could be going against you. They say look at your mom and her pregnancies to get an idea of your own. My mom took fertility drugs to get pregnant with me because she didn’t ovulate and she desperately wanted to get pregnant. With my brother, she wasn’t planning, didn’t think she could with all of the difficulties she had with me, and of course when she wasn’t trying or thinking about it, she got pregnant.

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I was also on birth control for 21 years. Yeup, that’s correct – 21 years. I was put on it when I was 11 to regulate my cycles because 4 periods a month was more than me or my parents could take as I was a little angsty. I tried several different oral contraceptives, but was on the Nuvaring for like 9-10 years. Naturally, I was naive thinking everything I read about “oral birth control” wrecking havoc on your body couldn’t possibly have anything to do with me because I wasn’t on oral birth control.

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When my husband and I got married, I took out my Nuvaring and never looked back. You hear all of these wonderful things about how you’ll lose weight and your body will go back to normal, you’ll have a sex drive again. Well, some of these things are true. In my case, I gained weight, my hormones have gone crazy, acne, facial hair, emotions are all out of whack. If your sex drive goes up and through the roof then you cry thinking your husband will have nothing to do with you because you’re a fat, hair, pimply, wildebeest.

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I went off in October. I had a normal 28 day cycle in November and December. In January I was late. I was nauseous, my breasts hurt, my back hurt, I could smell everything, I peed all the time, every sign in the world was pointing to “you’re pregnant AF”. I ran out and bought all different kinds of pregnancy tests. All of them came back negative.

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Confused and defeated, I was told “well, maybe you tested too early. You need to wait a week”. I waited a week, tested again – first thing in the morning – negative. I didn’t get my period in February either.

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I began to freak out. What was wrong with my body? I started to research the internet, anything I could get my hands on. I kept seeing articles where if you had been on birth control, it could take a year or more for your body to begin ovulating again. That the periods I could have had in November and December were flukes, they were left overs from where my body had been on autopilot for so long. I finally got my period back in March. In April when I started feeling those same familiar feelings of nausea and fatigue, I took more tests… all negative.. then I got my period.

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Everything still pointed to “it’s going to take a year for your body to go back to normal”. At 33, I didn’t want to hear that it could be a year before I could even really begin trying to have a baby.

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This isn’t how I planned things. Life never goes as planned though right? In my 20’s I thought I’d be married by like 27-28, have my first baby or at least be pregnant by 30. I didn’t like the idea of being an “old mom”. In my 20’s, I finished college, started a long “career” in retail due to an economy collapse which made PR jobs a nightmare to land, especially in a non-urban area like in WV, and completed a master’s degree. I started going to bars and living that life – all of my friends went to bars, I dated here and there until I met someone who I thought was going to be “real”. Turned out he was a real loser – no career goals or ambition, a drug problem he tried to hide, cheating he did an even worse job of hiding, verbally and emotionally abusive, and just made a fool of me for 4 years.

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When I finally found my inner bad bitch and walked away I felt… free… I didn’t have someone blowing up my cell phone accusing me of all the things they themselves were doing. I didn’t have to question every girl who was on his Facebook or the Plenty of Fish profile he told me hadn’t been active in 5 years (coughlifecough) or any female who bumrushed him in public really… most importantly, I was no longer the “crazy ‘ex’ girlfriend who refused to believe it was over” or whatever lie he was telling girls as to why his relationship status hadn’t changed to single. I was FREE for the first time in 4 years and it felt AMAZING. I felt like a crippled bird who learned to fly again.

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I was going to do ME for a change. I started working out and losing weight. I quit smoking. I wasn’t going to bars as much as I was hanging out with friends and re-connecting with people. If a rebound happened in that then oh well. I needed to find ME again and did what I had to do to feel something for myself again. I also started to think about my future. I made appointments to see houses as I was in the market for real estate.

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I showed up to my first ever real estate appointment and when I was expecting an older guy with a potbelly and several grandkid photos in his wallet and ended up meeting a young athletic guy with blonde hair and bright blue eyes and a killer smile. I thought this guy has to have a girlfriend so any romantic thoughts were kicked out of my head. At the end of our appointment, he Facebooked me. I started receiving text from him that I could have sworn were meant for his friends and not me. It really did not dawn on me that this guy was into me at all. Even our first date was not something I was suspecting as a date. Maybe it was because I wasn’t use to being thought of in any real way. Maybe it’s because I never thought a guy would try so hard to get me to come over to make dinner for me.

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Almost five years later we have: bought 2 homes, become landlords, adopted a doggie, made career changes, started businesses, suffered loss and tragedy, gotten engaged, gotten married, and began planning a family. I never thought 5 years ago that I would have someone in my life that I wanted all of this with after everything I had gone through. My husband is truly my best friend, my other half. He’s my person. Words cannot describe how in love I am with my husband. A little of him, a little of me would make one gorgeous creature. We have discussed baby names, nursery themes, we agree 100% on how we want our children to be raised…

And every time a pregnancy test comes back negative it’s a soul crushing ‘oh wait… not your turn”.

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I have loaded up on prenatal vitamins, Vitamin D, and as we’re trying to have a girl, I’ve taken to a gender friendly diet (at least according to 1000 different articles on the internet), I have red raspberry leaf tea on my next grocery list. I have 2 different ovulation trackers on my phone and log BBT, cervical mucus, all activity, and all symptoms.

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Still, I feel bitter. I feel jealous. I feel a sense of unfairness that some figure from above has decided it’s not the right time for me… I feel pissed that medical professionals say “well, you haven’t even been trying for a full year yet so…. you can’t be upset…”.

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I know that we have yet to be labeled “infertile” or “reproductively challenged” so others may be shaking their head telling me I don’t know heartache in this department yet, but maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to judge because you either haven’t been here or worse, you have been here.

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I hope that this is the last babyless Mother’s Day, and my thoughts and heart are out there to all of the hopeful Some Day Mommas.

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Opinion, Romance, Story, Uncategorized

Musical Budget Date Night Idea

Why is it that some of the best “date” nights really just involve basically staying at home?

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My husband and I are not the people who like to go out on date night once a week or twice a month or whatever people do. We work Monday-Friday and because he owns his own business, the work never truly ends. When I get home on Friday I don’t want to go out. I want to put on comfy pants and rescue my boobs from boob jail and have a beer or a glass of wine or a glass of whatever strikes my fancy at the time. Saturday is the busiest night ever to go out and I don’t want to deal with crowds of rude people. We’re not a chain restaurant people anyways. Going out can also be fancy and expensive. Getting all dolled up to spend $100 at dinner or $50 on a movie is just not my idea of a good time.

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As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized what a homebody I really am. I also realized how much I like cheap tasty bad for me food. When I was starting to diet and exercise for our wedding, we started doing a once a week cheat meal on Fridays. I’ve cooked all week, I’ve worked all week, I want a night to relax with some guilty pleasures. This is our night to get pizza, Chinese, Mexican, to go from one of our favorite local restaurants (I *will* but doing reviews on our favorite local spots) or the one fast food staple we’ll actually eat, Taco Bell.

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Random side story on Taco Bell. As I stated before, we are not really a chain food people, we’re not even really fast food people. Our idea of fast food is Panera. I hadn’t had Taco Bell in probably 5 years or something crazy like that. All of a sudden, I started seeing commercials for their $5 Cravings Box. I don’t know why but I wanted one. I wanted one so bad. Little did I know, my husband’s dirty little mind was thinking the same thing. We drive to Taco Bell and order the Cravings Box and this neat little fast food present was full of nacho chips, a burrito supreme, crunchy taco, and a cheesy gordita crunch. All of that plus a drink, it’s SUCH a good deal and SO much food! I however I’m not a big fan that they now replaced the nachos with cinnamon twists and swapped out the burrito supreme for a 5 layer beef burrito. I DEMAND the ORIGINAL! My Taco Bell is also pretty on point with their presentation too. Every item looks like it needs to be photographed for their menu so I can appreciate the additional love they give their food.

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So as corny as this may sound as a “date” night, you could actually make it really fun, special, and meaningful. It’s not about saving money, that’s just an awesome benefit. It’s about hanging out with your chosen person and enjoying their company and cutting loose!

We go and grab our Friday Night Special. No matter where we go, we drive together to pick it up. Our fav Chinese and pizza places allow for online ordering which is very convenient because as soon as you hit “Submit” on your order and jump in the car, it’s ready by the time you get there and you don’t need to worry about additional delivery fees.

We will open our feast and yes, put it on plates. We’re not total cavemen. Grab a glass of wine or a few beers and park our butts on the couch. Then, we grab the remote and turn our Firestick to YouTube (or most recently the internet browser since Google and Amazon can’t play nice with each other). We then will spend hours watching music videos! Crazy right?! Lord knows MTV isn’t going to show these gems. However, we have learned to appreciate and love each other’s favorite artist. My husband is like 4.5 years younger than me and had a different upbringing when it came to music than I did. I was fortunate enough to be born in the mid eighties and get to be fully conscious of the 90’s where I submerged myself in alternative music, but I’m still my parents child and was raised on The Moody Blues, The Eagles, Alice Cooper, etc… I’m a fan of anything I can sing and or dance to.

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My husband has said that some of his favorite times with me has been me educating him on music through the videos on our “date” nights.

So how can you really make this “special”? If you know your significant other’s favorite artist, try creating a playlist in advance of their music videos. Play the videos of  songs that have importance to you: song that was playing when you first met, had your first date, had your first kiss, etc… For example, I have a playlist of our wedding music.  It was special to us and whenever I hear those songs, it brings such happy memories. (I have had people ask about our music choices so I will dedicate a whole new post to going over it.)

This is a night to discover new music, new artists, new songs from your favorite artists, or that the songs Family Guy inserts for comedy effect are real (yes, my husband had to learn through me that “Rock Lobster” by the B-52’s was a real song, not something Seth McFarland made up). Dance in your living room, perform for your date, get as crazy as you want to – er, just don’t get the cops called for a noise complaint…

Here’s a few of my favorites that have become his favorites:

Opinion, Story

Workplace Etiquette – Bathrooms

I’m sure this is bound to be a multi-part post, but for real, what is it about sharing a *work* space that turns people into the most disgusting pigs of all time? Or are people truly like this in their every day life too? If so, this is what’s wrong with the world.

My number 1 Workplace Etiquette Pet Peeve is probably other people’s bathroom habits.

When I worked in retail, I expected the bathroom to be a place of whoa’s. At one of the stores I worked in (thankfully on my day off) it appeared as if someone had taken Alli and ate too much fat in one meal and blew the bathroom up. Honestly, I’ve never heard of such a thing being true, it was always said in expression, but no… a lady had gone into the women’s bathroom and had massive explosive diarrhea and it wound up in the toilet, on the toilet, on the floor, on the wall behind the toilet, and the shitty panties were left in the trashcan… EW. Yeah, in my experience, most ladies who use the ladies room are not ladies in the manners and etiquette department…

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Now, I work in a professional office with professional people and I swear, the bathroom behaviors truly are not any better. I question things a lot… like how hard is it to flush all your business down the toilet? Flush it twice ok? A courtesy flush…

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Why is there soap in the floor? Running down the wall? Is this the building that drips soap?

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Why do you feel like you have to announce to the office that you’re going to the bathroom? If you make a mess in there of any kind, we now know who to blame…

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Why is there shredded toilet paper? I know we have to keep buying this cheap horrible 1 ply toilet paper because it’s cheap. It doesn’t help my life when you struggle to tear your portion of it off properly and it’s mangled or if you’ve just let it go down to dirty floor. No one should wipe themselves with floor debris toilet paper.

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Who keeps buying these horribly scented air freshener sprays? Do they think they’re working? They’re not. All I smell is stale apple cinnamon potpourri that’s been sitting on Aunt Edna’s coffee table for 5 years mixed with poo-stank. No one thinks pina colada poop is a pleasant office smell. “Shit the Bed Fred Clean Linen” shouldn’t be a thing. Maybe we can stop wasting money on sprays to mask what you did and get some of that essential oil spray to spray in the toilet before the darkness happens..

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Why is there water EVERYWHERE?! Did the toilet overflow? Did you shake your wet hands all over the place trying to dry them before you grabbed a paper towel? Did you shower in here? Please… at least tell me it’s water…

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Normally, I’m one of the first people here. I also work in a predominately female office. We have two single person bathrooms – one for the public and one that is employees only with a pass code lock on it. As being one of the first people here, I can safely say I know that I’m one of the first people to use the bathroom – the first if the seat is up because that means the custodian scrubbed the toilet and left the seat up as his sign to say “ladies, the toilet is clean, please be the first to touch the clean seat.” At least, that’s what I hope he’s saying….

Anyways, I got to the office one day and noticed that the toilet seat was up (so it’s clean) but someone had gone into the bathroom and washed their hands and threw the paper towels in the floor… In. The. Floor. right in front of the trashcan. Then I walk in far enough to see the inside of the toilet, it’s been used and there are fecal streaks running down the bowl and there’s still a few solid pieces in the toilet. GROSS! I flushed the rest of this person’s business down the toilet and walked to the other side of the room to wait. There are two trashcans in this bathroom and they’re both empty, as the paper towels this animal used are in the floor. When I feel it’s safe I return to the toilet, do what little business I needed to do (all this work for so very little..) I reach for the toilet paper and notice it’s a brand new roll… I’m the first one to use it… and here’s where the questions come in:

Who poops with the lid up? Did you poop and then put the lid back up? Were you in such a hurry that you forgot to put the seat down? How did you not fall in? Did you do a hover poop?

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Why am I using a brand new roll of toilet paper, but there’s not an empty roll in any of the trashcans? Did you not *use* toilet paper? What kind of savage are you?

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Would it have killed you to put the paper towels in the trashcan? You were so close, why would you have left them in the floor??? Did you use paper towels instead of toilet paper? Did you leave them there because you didn’t want to pick them up and risk touching your own dirt?

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Seriously???? WHY DO I HAVE TO HAVE THIS MANY QUESTIONS WHEN IT COMES TO USING A SHARED BATHROOM!?

Story

You Will Never Have a Non-Issue Wedding

When all little girls begin planning their wedding in their toddler days with a pillow case on the back of their head as a veil, they never imagine all of the issues that could arise.

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When women get engaged and begin sharing their news and photos of the ring with loved ones near and far, they never imagine all of the issues that could arise.

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I have determined that no matter how prepared you think you are with your wedding planning – even if you’ve hired an event planner – you will still have issues that you never in a million years expected. Things will be much harder than you anticipated and the best advice anyone can have is to “breathe”.

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I recently got married and the day of the wedding, no one knew what all issues had come up or that there was ever a problem to be had. I did not have an expensive extravagant wedding. It was low-key, less than 100 guests, and low-cost too, but it was sweet and personal and that’s what weddings should be.

So, what could have gone wrong during such a small intimate affair?

  1. Save the Date Curse – I picked out my Save the Dates, had them printed, they were beautiful and simple and in my wedding colors. We had gone over the guest list what seemed like 100 times. As soon as I put my Save the Dates in the mailbox, it was like it cursed people’s relationships. Several relationships, including my cousins, imploded for one reason or another – cheating, boredom, both… some of it was heartbreaking, some of it was drama, and some of it was probably for the best. However, what’s a person to do when they’ve invited both partners and they’re no longer together? You break a “wedding etiquette” rule and you have to pull the invite from one or both parties. It may be rude, but when you’ve shelled out a lot of money on the biggest day of your life, you don’t need someone else’s drama looming over top or causing an issue for anyone. Image result for break up gif
  2. Minister Mishap – When it came time to choose someone to marry us, I went to a friend who was ordained. They knew us both and I thought they would be perfect to do so. What I got in return was a bunch of questions: what are the colors, the theme, the required attire, and if their significant other I had never met was invited. Hm, ok, a simple yes or no would have worked, but I told them to take a few days and get back to me. The very next day my future mother in law asked for us to get married by an actual minister from a church – not someone ordained from the internet. That seemed to be doable considering my friend never (I repeat, never even to this day) told me if they would do it. We received the names of 3 different ministers who might be able to marry us and not.a.single.one contacted us back even if it was just to tell us they couldn’t/wouldn’t – not very Christ like if you ask me. My sister had a friend at work who was ordained and said she could marry us. 3 weeks before our wedding she tells us, she’ll be out-of-town, so she gave us the name and number of someone else who could possibly marry us and her response was, “uh, yeah, I can if no one else will”. Seriously?! Is that something a bride wants to hear? Someone basically saying that they have no desire to do it? I was in tears on my bed and my loving fiance wasn’t having that so he picked up the phone and started making calls. By some grace of God, one of his nearest and dearest friends who lives out-of-state had to be ordained for their job on their military base and was able to do our wedding. Not only was he available and legally able to do it, but he said “I’d be honored” and that meant the world to me and I bawled my eyes out with happy tears. All of the disappointments along the way, led us to the perfect person to marry us. A friend, a true friend, who knew us, made it personal and became a little wedding planner in his own right. Image result for priest gif Image result for priest gif
  3. Freakin’ Florists – I originally planned on using the same florist who put together my grandmother’s funeral flowers. However, at some point between my grandmother’s funeral and the wedding planning period, this woman had lost it – became a cougar and lost control of her business. People often didn’t get their flowers, or they’d get someone else’s flowers, no bill and then received it months later with huge late fees. I just couldn’t trust that this woman could pull through. A friend had suggested one of her family member’s so I went to their shop and I should have just turned around and left. There wasn’t a single flower to be had but just a bunch of primitive knickknacks and a tanning salon. When I finally got to speak with her, I expressed I didn’t want anything that was in the FTD books, I had ideas with me and wanted something different. She took pictures of what I wanted and stated she’d have to put some things together and the price would be based off of the flowers that she used. 2 months went by, 2 moons had passed and I hadn’t heard a word from her so I went to a different florist. This woman sat down and talked with me, took notes, made copies of my flower inspiration photos and everything. She asked me how many grandmother corsage I was going to need and not being prepared for such a question as I no longer have either one of my grandmothers, I cried – I cried in the flower shop. I was quoted a price and the shop was paid that day. The shop wasn’t open on Sundays (which is when my wedding was set to happen) and we had discussed meeting early in the morning to pick up the flowers the day of the wedding. I called the Friday before and was told that there was no order for me. Are, you, freaking, kidding me!? No flower order? For flowers I had already paid for??? At that point I was about to cry on the phone and the owner told me not to cry, she was going to make it right. What would have happened had I not called???? I would have been flower-less. When I did receive my flowers, they weren’t what I had wanted, but they were pretty except for some huge gaudy bows. Like sheer ribbon bows the size of Texas on my bouquet and on the handles of my flower girl basket. I was ripping off bows 2 hours before my wedding before I would let flowers be photographed. Image result for florist gif
  4. That Tech Didn’t Nail It – I had taken Friday before my wedding off work. I needed to get my nails done, meet with our minister, and pack all of centerpieces up so yeah, work was the last thing I was thinking of. I go to a place I normally go to get my nails done because it was close to home. I got there close to opening and had to wait to be seen, but whatever. I wrote myself in for a mani/pedi and selected my toe nail color. I was going to do blue as one of my wedding colors was blue and I thought it could be a cute “something blue” but then I saw *the* color, “Mimosas for the Mr. and Mrs.” by OPI. Done deal. I went to the blessed massage chair and got comfortable when a nail tech I had never had sits in front of me and asks me if I wanted her to trim my toenails. “No, ma’am please don’t touch the talons. At the same time don’t buff the centaur boots I call feet either, considering that you’re asking me if I want you to actually do the service I’m paying for.” Whatever. I let her do her thing which quite honestly was probably 50% focused on me and 50% focused on The Price is Right which was playing on the TV beside of us. I was texting people and coordinating things and answering 1000 questions, I honestly wasn’t paying attention to her. It wasn’t until on my honeymoon that I noticed that she hadn’t painted the nail to the edge and had only put one coat on my baby piggies.  So, forward to her asking me what I want done to my nails. “Well, they’re jacked looking so I will need tips, I *hate*the harsh white line of traditional French tips so I want them ombred”. I did not think that this would be a huge ordeal honestly. It seemed like a simple request. I had never had my nails ombred, but the owner had just done an ombre set on the girl before me so I knew that they knew what I was talking about. I just had never had anything like that done before so I didn’t know what to expect. Everything was going pretty normal until she started slapping white polish in a very aggressive way on the tips. Seeing as how I had no clue how the ombred effect was achieved, I just assumed that this was normal. Nope, nothing normal other than she was giving me a normal basic blah harsh white tip. She started cleaning up the polish into a harsh line and I spoke up and said, “ok, so when does the ombre happen”. She sheepishly looked up from my nails and told me that she (wish I was lying) zoned out on what she was doing and in order to do an ombred look she would have had to do something completely different from what she had done and so now I have this, but not to fret because she was going to be putting a thick line of glitter between the white and the pink. Um…. NO! I just told you I hate white tips and you’re giving me harsh white tips and drawing even more attention to it by throwing glitter, the HERPES of the crafting world on my nails… I’ve shown you a photo of what I’m paying for my nails to look like and you’ve offered me the glitter white tips of a stripper named Cinnamon. I then sat there while she tried to fix the error. 3 hours later I finally left the nail salon, pissed off, not relaxed, angry that I was still charged full price for all of the crap I had to sit through, my nails still weren’t to my liking, and the acrylic was over shot on a nail or two so I had to go home and FILE my nails that I just had done so they wouldn’t be digging into the flesh of my finger. Lesson learned, I will continue to only get SNS gel nail dips done at the salon near my work I had my engagement nails done at. Image result for nails gif
  5. The Walking Undependable – There are some people that you just can’t depend on… or you can depend on them to be undependable, so take that however you want to. I was very thankful for those who gave up their Saturdays to help me decorate. Lord knows I needed a young priest and an old priest to just calm my mother down. However, there were people who said from day one that they would help and they were no where to be found, instead, calling and saying “oh, but I need to do this today… sorry..” you’re not sorry, you had something else you wanted to do instead of owning your word to someone. My mother screamed and cussed people out that day and I still have yet to figure that out because it was the people who actually showed up to help. She over reacted and became very dramatic. So much in fact that I just couldn’t deal and began to feel physically nauseous (actually that’s my new response to people being overly dramatic for no damn reason in my presence, I want to throw up). My mother also took on so much that I asked her not to that she became overwhelmed and had a lot of freakouts. I should be use to this. It happens at every family gathering we have. With that being said, please understand how much I love my mommy and that anything I’ve said here, I said it to her face awhile ago. At least she’s dependable right? Related image
  6. Rain on the Parade – A week out, my outdoor wedding forecast showed it would be 75 degrees, sunny but with cloud coverage (which the photographers said was the optimal weather situation for photographing an outdoor wedding. 6 days out that changed to a slight chance of rain to 100% chance of rain all day. It rained when I got up, it rained when I got my hair done, it rained when I got ready, it rained during my first look photos, and it rained during the ceremony that we had to move into the reception space. I was so upset about the rain in the days leading up to the wedding, but they day of, I didn’t care. Was it what I had envisioned? Nope. Not at all. By the time the wedding day rolled around, the only thing that mattered was that I was marrying my best friend and anything else seemed trivial.Image result for wedding rain gif
  7. People Will Make it All About Them – I said if anyone got engaged at my wedding, I would purposely give birth at their baby shower, or die at their funeral, ya know, whichever. I can’t stand people who try to take everything away from someone else. No matter what, someone will try. Whether it’s an outfit that draws all sorts of attention, someone gets sloshed drunk, ruins photos or photobombs every freakin picture you’ve paid to have taken, or tries to do so insensitive that no one believes it when you share the story because it’s just too much. It might be a friend, it may end up being a family member, but be aware and forwarned that someone will do *something*, can’t say what because it’s different for everyone. Image result for selfish gif Image result for selfish gif Image result for selfish gif
  8. Missing FOB – My wedding was due to start in meer minutes. I had taken first looks, everyone was getting lined up, my mouth was crazy dry, and I was getting nervous (mainly that I would do something stupid like lock my knees and end up passing out during my vows or something). That’s when someone has to tell me that my father is not there. He had driven back to the house because he thought he left the garage door open and should be on his way. Not only was it the Father of Bride that was MIA, it was my brother, and my nephew who was escorting my mom and mother in law down the aisle. No wedding has *ever* started on time. If you find yourself in a similar situation, realize it’s normal and everyone *WILL* wait on you because you *ARE* the bride.  Image result for father of the bride gif

At the end of the day, everything was fine. We were married, it’s legal, I’m a wife, and I’m married to my best friend (I’ll write another blog on why I truly think that everything out there who says your husband shouldn’t be your BFF is wrong in my humbled opinion). I got to have my first dance to David Bowie, I got to dance with my father, the rain was only like an annoying misty type rain, everyone raved about the decor of my Disney themed wedding and how my wedding was just perfect – they laughed they cried it was laid back and everyone enjoyed themselves. My husband is stuck with me until death do we part.

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Story

Am I Being Punk’d?

I have seriously thought about writing a book about all of the crazy work related stories my friends and I share. It would be just some sort of long essay or collection of short stories if I chose to write about my experiences only.  While I’m sure we’ve all had our fair share of cringe worthy tales or daily annoyances in the work world, I thought I would share one of my greatest “WTF” moments I’ve ever experienced on the job. Hopefully once you read about this totally true and horrifying tale of human stupidity, you’ll feel better about having to come up with a cheesy reply to, “well if there’s no price tag, that means it’s free right?!”

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Years ago when I was in college, I took a summer job at a local pet shop. Looking back on it now, I don’t know why I ever got involved with a pet shop. I’m against designer dogs and want to throw up at the thought of someone spending $1,000+ to finance the dog when you can go to your local animal shelter and save a life as well as find a new best friend.

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This particular evening, I wasn’t scheduled. I went in because I was waiting for a co-worker to get off work so we could catch a movie. That’s how innocently my evening began. The shop phone rang and the manager looked puzzled as she asked the caller to hold. She looked at me and said the phone call was for me. What? No one knew I was there. She asked me to take the call since they called for me personally. What ensued next could have never been imagined in my wildest dreams.

Phone Conversation:

Me: “How may I help you?”                                                                                                                 Customer: “I don’t know if you remember me or not, but I bought a rabbit from you about a week ago.”

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Ok, so I thought it was innocent enough, but honestly, I had no clue who this man was. I worked at a pet shop and we sold a lot of bunnies. I immediately went into panic mode as I thought, “great, this man is calling me to complain and raise all kinds of hell because the damn bunny was probably sick or had wet tail and died.” I collected myself.

Me: “No sir, I’m sorry, I don’t recall you specifically. Is there an issue with the rabbit?” Customer: “Well, I don’t think so. It’s like this you see. We bought the rabbit and set it’s cage up and everything’s been fine. We had company over yesterday and they brought their kids with them. We were all sitting around and having a good time and they got real upset when they peered behind us into our utility room. They grabbed their kids and told us that they were leaving and not coming back until we got control of our animals.  We had no idea what in the world they were talking about until we looked into the utility room and see our Rottweiler trying to get to the rabbit through the cage… you know… sexually…. in any event, I was calling to see if there was any kind of spray or something that I could spray on my rabbit to make my dog not want to mate with it.”

My facial expressions do a really poor job at hiding my reaction thoughts. I know this. What I wasn’t aware of how my face went to pleasant,

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to concerned,

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to horrified,

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to “you’re so stupid I’m now having to squint to deal with this conversation”

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in no time flat. I also wasn’t aware that my facial expressions had drawn a crowd of my co-workers dying to know who I was speaking to and what had caused my face to go out of control.

Me: “Sir, they make behavioral sprays for animals to keep them from chewing or biting and possibly to train them to not bark, but for that specific purpose, no.”                 Customer: “So you’re telling me there’s nothing?”                                                                      Me: “Sir, I’m going to ask you a question, but I think I already know the answer to it. Is your dog fixed?”                                                                                                                       Customer: “What do you mean fixed?”                                                                                              Me: “Did you follow the advice of Mr. Bob Barker at the end of every Price is Right and get your dog spayed or neutered?”                                                                                      Customer: “Well, I don’t know.”                                                                                                        Me: “Not to be rude, but how do you not know something like that?”                               Customer: “I got him off a buddy of mine and he never mentioned anything. I know I haven’t done anything to him.”                                                                                                         Me: “I’m going to go out on a limb and say that your dog isn’t fixed. You will need to make an appointment with your vet office and have them examine the dog and possibly make an appointment to get him fixed.”

It’s at this point in time that I’m completely unaware that I just opened Pandora’s Box. Maybe I had this coming to me. Maybe I should have just hung up after the first 20 seconds of the conversation. However, had I done that, I wouldn’t have this juicy story to share with all of you.

Customer: “I don’t have money for a vet and that sounds kind of expensive. Is that just something I can do myself?”

Related imageMe: “NO! No! You can *not* do that yourself sir. Do you understand what I’m saying when I say ‘get your dog fixed’?”                                                                                               Customer: “Honestly, no not really. I’ve never really had a dog.”                                           Me: “Sir, do you know what a vasectomy is on a human man? Well that’s kind of what they’ll do to the dog… but they’re going to remove them all together.”                           Customer: “OH! Oh.. good Lord… I’m glad you told me that! I would have f*#%ed his world all up if I would have tried to do that myself, huh?”                                                    Me: “Ya think? Sir, if you can’t afford to have the surgery done, maybe you should reach out to your local animal shelter or even to the vet’s office. Maybe they have a discount program or know of someone who will work with you on a payment plan. Just to re-cap our conversation: there’s no spray for your rabbit and it’s not a problem with your rabbit, it’s a problem with your dog, a problem of which he needs surgery to correct.”

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At that point I don’t remember saying good-bye to this man. I just think I was in shock. Is this real life? Oh yeah, real life. It would only happen to me. Was this a local radio station playing a prank? Was it someone who worked there trying to see how far I would go with the conversation? Apparently, in the name of good customer service, I’d go pretty far to not hang up on what could have been someone’s ultimate Punk’d prank.

I would love to be able to tell you all that this was the end of this story. Unfortunately, this man had the brass balls to call me a week later to just “check and see” if anyone had come out with a spray to deter his dog from the rabbit… I wasn’t so nice the second time around. I may have made mention that he probably didn’t need to own animals if he couldn’t be a responsible pet owner…. but that’s just a “maybe I said it.”

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Thankfully, I’ve never had to discuss inter-species erotica with another customer in the past 12 years, so that’s something… right?

Story

Hell is a Clown…

I have never really been a fan of clowns. What better day to discuss why I now suffer from coulrophobia than the day after the new Stephen King’s IT trailer is released.

I wasn’t always this way. I remember being little and going to see the circus and I even dressed up as a crazy clown one Halloween – looking back it was like a mix of Heath Ledger’s Joker and Jem from Jem and the Holograms. Then I turned 6.

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What could have possibly happened to a 6 year old that would have traumatized them so bad that they now suffer from a phobia??? Stephen King’s 1990 made for TV movie, IT. That’s what happened.

When you have older sisters, you want to do what they’re doing. Naturally when they wanted to watch a clown movie, I wanted to watch it too. I should have taken a hint that when they lined my bed with every stuffed animal in our shared bedroom for protection that something bad was going to happen.

In 5 minutes I had seen the face or pure evil and horror and screamed when I realized the little girl who was just singing the “Itsy Bitsy Spider” was dead. That seemingly harmless clown hanging out in her mother’s laundry fresh on the clothes line just ate her. How was this a movie that was shown on ABC? Just how!?

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I sat in pure terror not even able to blink for about 2 hours. I have not been ok with clowns since. I can get down with some Killer Klowns from Outterspace as they just seemed silly, but it was real legit Ringling Brothers clowns that would forever haunt my dreams.

I would have night terrors that Pennywise the Clown was at the edge of my bed or I would see him on the cover of the book (my parents bought the book with the stupid movie poster on it, good one folks) and see his facial expressions slowly change from a frown to a sick twisted smile or he would even leap out at me!

One might say, “OK, so you don’t have coulrophobia, you just don’t like that specific clown.” Nope, don’t even go there with me.

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When I was in my mid-twenties I took a trip to the beach with my parents. They had a mini van with a TV/DVD player built in. As I was hanging back with my nephew enjoying a little flick, my mother tells me not to look out the window. How dare she tell me that! I’m an adult! We’re passing by Lake Norman (which is absolutely beautiful) so how could I not look out my window. It’s at this time, I look out my window to see a clown in full makeup, shaggy powdered wig, a hobo type outfit, looking like he just walked out of my private circus hell, driving in the car beside us. As if it was an image from a movie, he turned his head to look at me, smiled, waved, and kept trucking until he got off at the Davidson College exit. I screamed, threw a beach towel over my head, cried and hyperventilated a little, and didn’t move until we were in Charlotte.

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As I got older, I started to wonder if clowns were really just perverts in disguise, sort of like mall Easter Bunnies and Santas. That’s come across everyone’s mind at some point right? The fact that these grown adult men have chosen to sit on a chair for hours, getting sore butts, with the possibility of being sneezed, thrown up, or peed on, just to have children sit in their laps all day… let it sink in if you’ve never thought about it. Is that part of the creepy factor? Underneath they’re all just a bunch of Herbert the Perverts parading around as John Wayne Gacies?

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Maybe it’s the painted on expressions. They are really dark, hollow, sad, sick, and/or twisted and we would never know because there’s a jolly lying expression that’s glaring back at us, masking their true feelings… or intent… Whatever the cause, it still doesn’t change the fact that every time I see one I break out into a cold sweat, my heart beats out of my chest, my stomach leaps into my throat and I feel paralyzed. Good job Stephen King and Mr. Tim Curry. You successfully gave a whole generation of small children everywhere coulrophobia with some white face paint and rotten razor blade teeth.