Dungeons and Douchebags: The Wackelors of The Bachelorette

Well, COMPLETELY against my will, and apparently for the single purpose of getting my blog juices going again, I watched The Bachelorette premiere tonight.  I didn’t necessarily mean to.  But, some of my family, inclusive of twenty-somethings are here for the night and convinced me to put it on.  My 22 year old was just as annoyed as me and I can honestly say that I don’t know if I have been more proud of her! :p  In theory, I would continue to watch the season and keep writing.  In reality, I’ll consider it a success if I finish the premiere.  

First, I need to apologize to anyone who thought I was smarter than this.  I know you’re disappointed in my choices.  But, I have to appeal to all the people.  I am lover of all (except those few that did me dirty :p jk jk – kinda).  So, as much as I love my investigative shows and documentaries, I have to venture out to see what the rest of the world is up to! 😛

Anyway – let’s get started.  I only came in a few before Lucas entered and already can’t remember half of their names.  So, tonight’s commentary is a bit scattered and will focus on the things that stuck out the most to me.  

Let’s begin with the dummy (no, not the human guys – although there are already a few dummies fo sho).  That stupid puppet has more game than my last 5 dates.  I wish I were lying.  

The Bachelorette herself:

I can guarantee you she has already eliminated more than half of these dudes, in her mind, within the first 10 minutes.  She is not impressed by some of you fools.  She seems smart, but all brain cells can be altered with 31 yay-whos in a room trying to get your attention.  

I like to think I could get along with her, because she cannot hide how she feels, on her face – and anyone who knows me, knows I can’t either.  I’m hoping this is our common bond that helps me survive this episode.

When she says “I feel like the luckiest girl in the world”, I couldn’t help but think – OF COURSE YOU DO!  You have 31 dudes at your disposal and nobody is calling you a slut for talking to all of them at once!  You also are getting to juggle 31 somewhat normal-isn dudes who will be on their best behavior.  You’re not in Tinder anymore Dorothy.  Congratulations. 

Now to the boys: again, I came in late and I am overwhelmed, so some of them just get nicknames.

In general, guys do not sit around and talk like this and analyze, do they??  I mean, I know most of it is for the show

Kenny, the wrestler –  I don’t hate you.  Don’t let me down.

Lucas – it should be obvious all the things I have to say about him.  But, for the sake of warning the rest of Americans who haven’t had the pleasure yet, I’ll throw it out there.  DO NOT talk about your testicles through a megaphone on national television.  And stop shaking your face.  Nobody even understands your existence yet, except for the fact that every season has to have the one crazy.  HOWEVER, I do owe Lucas a Thank You!  I almost forgot that I hadn’t blogged about my last dating story that is one of the top three of all time!  You’ll have to stay tuned for that to understand how Lucas reminded me of it. 

Attorneys – I get it.  You put them on there because she is one, and the ones you chose are handsome. One is proud of himself (Josiah) and one can’t get his eyes or head at a normal level. But, I think we can all agree that attorneys are a direct spawn of the snake in the Garden of Eden. (sorry to all attorneys out there and please answer my call if I ever need you)

Vacuum dude – I like your approach.  Any woman who says a man with a vacuum isn’t hot, is lying.  But, you’re trying too hard running that dang thing while she is trying to talk.  My hope is that you have more to offer than this. 

Tickle Monster (as in he legit lists this as his job) – I can’t hate you.  At least you are calling it a job versus the 4,236 guys I have come across that say “consultant”, which really means they are unemployed.  But show me one person who isn’t annoying after the first 3 seconds of tickling someone (keep it clean!). 

Male Model – “I would be so devastated if I didn’t get a rose. Yeah, I don’t know what I would do”.  Yes, you’re right.  Your life would be over.  How would you ever walk out of there and find a woman?  I get it.  Must be horrible, with that deep voice and chiseled jaw line. 

Marine – Asian guy – you win, simply because I love marines…..and Asians.  You. Are. Adorable.  You are one of my top 3.

Penguin guy – nope.  Not giving you more than this space.  You are a copy cat, and a terrible one at that.  There is no other costume entrance like shark girl from last season.  Stop tryin.

Aspiring Drummer – every season needs the emotional one.  You win.  Quit cryin, it’s only the first session.

Chiropractor – you had me at “I could get free adjustments for the rest of my life” – but when you went for a kiss on the first night…..and went so hard that she couldn’t breathe AND for so long….I was out on you.  However, if she boots you and you’re just looking for something to do, I’m usually free on any day that ends with Y. 

WAIT – WHAT??? As I’m typing that last line, that’s who she steals to give the first impression rose to?  Ok, girl.  I see what tone you’re going to set here.  S M D H 

Ok, now I’m done.  If I were there, I would be right in the middle of the ego fest inside and wondering what the heck just happened.  PLUS, the way he kisses just makes me uncomfortable.  It gives me the same reflex as hearing the word moist. (acckkkk, I can’t even type that without gagging).  

Ah, there is Cry Baby Magee.  The one that gets kicked off that cries.  You talked to her for probably a total of 3 minutes and got let go, and now you’re crying because you brought lots of outfits you won’t get to wear.  No.  Boy puh-lease.  Welcome to every girl who has ever been stood up.  Imagine all the wasted outfits out there.  YOu ain’t the first.  You won’t be the last.  Pssshhhh.

Here’s what we do.  This show has been around long enough.  It’s time to switch it up.  You bring in a fat girl (ack hmmm).  You bring in all these guys.  As they get out of the limo, they are clearly shocked.  They aren’t used to someone not looking like a model, what kind of trickery is this?  They go into the main house and homegirl hears them talking about her.  She is so distraught that she runs away.  BUT, secretly, she is going away to fat camp.  She gets a naughty body to the point that she is unrecognizable.  They bring the guys back and say “sorry we trick you, we have a different bachelorette now”.  Enter, “new girl”, who is really old girl.  Their mouths start watering.  And in another twist, she automatically cuts the ones who talked about her and lets the actual nice ones that would’ve given her a chance, stay.  

Call me Hollywood, I’m here for you.  

Planning My Funeral

Before I even start this post, I need you to understand that I am sometimes (ok, always) random and a tiny bit weird.  I often wonder if some of the things that go on in my head also go on in other people’s heads.  I am convincing myself that they do and I am relying on those people showing up to read this blog.  The rest of you, well, you were warned. 🙂

DSCN0215When I saw this dress online a while back, I was completely drawn to it for two reasons.  One, I love the style of being a bit 50’s-ish.  Secondly, funerals.  Whether you want to admit it or not, or whether you think I’m a total loon, every girl needs a funeral dress.  Obviously, this dress is fabulous enough to work for tons of other functions, but I primarily bought it for funerals.  Clearly, I don’t sit around anticipating another’s death.  I also don’t mean for it to seem as if I treat a funeral like a fashion show.  

I do, however, feel like it’s important to look classy and a bit reserved for such an occasion (it’s really the only occasion I believe this for, by the way).  You cannot go wrong with pearls (even if they are fake) and a black dress.  When I came across this dress I realized that I didn’t have a dress that fit my “funeral belief system” and when I discovered that I could snag this for $20, I jumped right on it.  Now, all I need is for someone to die.  JUST KIDDING!!!!!  I just knew that once I coupled this with my pearls and black heels, that I was definitely going to win any Audrey Hepburn costume contests!

DSCN0216Once the dress arrived, I tried it on and realized it was THE PERFECT funeral dress for any funeral……..except mine.  I started thinking about how I would make my funeral different from most (because I always want to be different and MAYBE I have a few control issues – even in my own death).  I can respect a classy funeral, after all, I just bought a dress for that exact event.  But, I need funeral fun.  So, in the event of my untimely death, I am publishing my funeral wishes for all of the interwebs to see……..and maybe to also make sure enough people see it so that my mom feels obligated to carry it out versus putting me in a button up cardigan and pearls! 🙂 Weird?  Probably so.  Cares?  Zero.  

1

Unless you’re an ex that broke up with me and realized how incredibly stupid that decision was and now it’s too late to do anything about it.


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Enough Said

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I’m pretty sure that the fact that my chest will be stiff should be taken advantage of.  Gravity has taken over my boobs these days, so death may cause them to be stiff enough to go back where they were in my twenties and I don’t want to waste it.

4

Bold red lipstick though, not “I just crawled out of my pimp’s car to go to a job” red. 

5

I don’t want someone up there talking about anything boring.  I just want people to tell funny stories.  Let me know if you need me to draft a script for everyone.

6

This one is the most important.  It would be great if P!nk is still alive to just have her come do a few tunes.  If she’s not, anything upbeat that makes you wanna do a Rocky Balboa, stair type run will do.  It won’t even hurt my dead feelings if everyone breaks out into spontaneous dance.  If you REALLY loved me, you would all burst out into Don’t Stop Believin mid-funeral.

7

Everyone at my funeral should be dressed in something bold and fun.  I don’t need it looking like a circus freak show….but getting out of your comfort zone is the least you can do for my death wish, right?

8

Preferably in inflatable form, will do in lieu of flowers.  If there are flowers, leave the carnations out of it.  I don’t know why they got the dirty job of being the funeral flower, but they are not for me.

9

First, I want a casket that you can write on.  Have colorful sharpies available and leave me a good love note.  I’ll know if you skip that part in the line and I will haunt you forever. 🙂 I kid!  Next, it needs to include lights.  Fun lights on the outside (that could potentially move to the music) and good, Hollywood type lighting around my face that accentuates my red lipstick and long eyelashes.  Forgot to mention that before.  The eyelashes need to be long.  I won’t hate you if you pick ones from the Halloween costume aisle that have a little sparkle to them.

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Cover my grave in glitter.  Unless you’re my friend James.  He hates glitter, so he gets a pass.  The disco balls are for tombstone decorations, mostly because in all my years in advertising, nobody has let me incorporate it into any of my campaigns.  Actually, anyone who can pull off a real, spinning disco ball as my tombstone will get extra points.  I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you with the big man once I meet him. 

 

I think that gets us started.  I feel like if you all start with this list, the creative juices will continue to flow and my funeral will be an epic blowout.  

I think we can safely say that I feel comfortable with you people to share my weirdness so openly with.  Don’t leave me hanging!  Share one fun thing you would do at your funeral and reassure me that I’m at least a lovable weirdo! 🙂 

Happy Wednesday!

Outfit details:

Dress (completely customizable): Eshakti

Necklace: Sam Moon

Shoes: Nine West

The Gym – A Romance Novel

What better way to return to the blogosphere than a gym disaster story!

Tonight’s gym story is a bit of a romance novel (ok maybe a half of a page out of a romance novel – anyway)….. There I was, power walking like I had not a care in the world and like I had the lungs of a skinny 20 year old….when this guy comes over from the weights and gets on the treadmill next to me. He was shorter than I care for but I try to stay pretty open these days and I am liking flats more than heels anyway these days. He had been eyeing me as he walked up. There were several treadmills open so the fact that he chose the one next to me was a pretty good indicator that he was into me. Maybe he witnessed Monday night’s bra incident (where my strap came undone and one of “the girls” went running free) and he was hoping for more action tonight. 

Either way, it was the setting for the perfect love story. Our eyes would meet. He would smile. I would smile. He would say “I like your speed and incline”. I would giggle and blush. He would ask me out and the rest would be history and a story for the grandkids. 
He starts jogging. I start jogging. He says “oh, do you like spotify? I have been thinking of subscribing” (so you’re creepin on my phone. Trying to see what I have goin on. I like it)
Then it went bad. 
“Oh I love it. It’s worth every penny so far.” Now, had I stopped there, we might have had something. But, I did not stop there. Instead of saving the next things in my head for a letter to Spotify and the artists that I was referring to, I unload on treadmill boy. 
“Well, I should clarify. It is great for sure. But Garth Brooks and Taylor Swift aren’t on there. I am not ashamed to like Garth out loud. I just haven’t come to terms with saying that I like Taylor out loud just yet. Don’t get me wrong, the more I learn about her, the more I like her. She is super connected to her fans. As a marketer, I appreciate her engagement. It seems authentic. And that’s the only real way to reach your audience these days. You have to be authentic. I think Garth probably engages too. But mostly old school. I have heard his concerts are great! Have you ever been?”
Yep. All of that with barely a breath in between sentences. Then I take a drink of water to give him a chance to answer. I am also lightly (and by lightly I mean barely) jogging still at this point. 
Then….i start choking. Not a little bit choking. A whole lot. The red face kind of choking. Where tears are rolling down my face and I can’t catch my breath choking. 
In an effort not to lose the potential romance, or to save what microlove might be left, I try to keep going like I am not essentially convulsing. 
Only on the treadmill for approximately five minutes, he leaves. Never to be seen again. I excuse myself to the bathroom and try to figure out how to dig a tunnel out of the building so that I don’t have to face the scene I left so abruptly. No dice. Looks like I will just do the walk of shame. 
I guess I will just go back to my “safe zone” of pining away for an ex that will never want me back. That seems to be my comfort zone these days. Just hang out in “neverland” where at least I don’t have to share my covers or force myself to “be out there” in unguarded heart land. That’s a scary place. 😝
I wish this was exaggerated or made up. The hardest thing to believe in all of it? That I never fell! I can’t wait to go back to the gym. 

Dungeons and Douchebags: is it because you’re fat?

Sometimes I lose my passion. Ok, not lose it necessarily, but it seems to get buried in the mundane routine of life. Then, someone comes along and ignites it. Sometimes they ignite it in unpleasant ways.

As I was leaving a meeting today, I received a notification that I had a new message on my dating app. I will admit that a giddiness comes over me when I see these notifications. The excitement isn’t even about “could this be the one” sending the message. It is more like “oh, this oughta be good. Can’t wait to see how this turns out. I need new material”. You see, online dating has merely become a source of examples as to why I am ok being single.

ANYWAY! I digress. So Da_GreatWhyte_Hype messages me today. His picture is a gorilla so my hope in seeing his name and pic in my inbox is that this guys is hilarious and that we will hit it off from a humor perspective. As usual, I was expecting too much.

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My headline on my dating profile says “Allergic to shirtless and gym selfies”. His message said “Are you allergic because you are fat”.

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Within seconds I felt a heat inside of me. Not a hot flash heat. A boiling in my stomach that spread like wildfire. I immediately started calling on Jesus to calm my nerves and save this boy from my response. But then I just assumed Jesus probably had bigger fish to fry and I would handle this guy for him. 🙂 THEN I realized how this guy doesn’t deserve my correspondence. Ok, I only realized this part after replying with “Wow, you definitely don’t disappoint in being a prick” (since he referenced himself as such in his profile). And finally, I realize that this is opportunity to address the masses just in case there is one person out there who is interested in understanding a few things (which is also simply me venting to the masses in an effort of exercising writing therapy and refraining from getting into further argument with this douchelord).

In his defense…he is a self-proclaimed prick

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I have written before about how interesting I find it that when people have no other argument or defense with some, they automatically turn it into something completely stupid. For example when people say “oh are you all pissy because you need to take your hormone pill?”. Nope, I’m pissy because you’re a jerk. Let me explain to you (you tiny little jerk hiding behind a pic of gorilla) why I don’t care for shirtless or gym selfies.

1. Shirtless selfies: I am SO SICK of seeing guys without their shirts. I know. It feels just as weird for me to type it as it does for you to read it (especially coming from me in general – lover of men). But here is the deal dudes. If a girl reveals too much in the way she dresses, we are not leaving anything to mystery. We hear how there is nothing left to the imagination if we show off too much. It’s also pointed out that if we will share our skin with the world in the form of revealing dress and such, that what is so special about what we have for one person. If you, as a guy (or girl for that matter) are willing to put a shirtless pic of yourself online for any stranger to come across, what are you saving for me should we enter a relationship. What makes me special at this point? Every girl online has seen your chest. You’re essentially a used piece of tape to me at this point and I have no desire to use you to hold anything together 🙂 (pardon the cheesy analogy)

2. Gym Selfies: Great! You take care of yourself! You work hard for that rocking body that you have also shown off in your little to no clothes shot. You can clearly out lift, out run, and out last me athletically based on your pic of you sweating it out in a gym alone. I guess I don’t see what you flexing in a mirror selfie at the gym is supposed to show me about you other than you love your muscles. I am sure people could argue this with me all day long and it scares me at the responses that could come flooding in defending those types of pics. But for me personally, I am just most likely going to perceive you as someone a little more stuck on themselves than I prefer. I would much rather see a pic that shows your personality and charming smile.

3. Do you know what kind of courage it takes to put yourself out there on an online dating site? There are countless people looking and probably judging you. It’s fine. And it’s even more fine if someone skips over me. Think what you want about me……to yourself. We do not know each other. We are not homies. You can look at my profile and think “nope. Big girl. Not for me”. That won’t bother me a bit. But approaching me like you did. That is just beyond rude and shows what a man of little character you are.

I am actually thankful this jerk messaged me today. Because the old Alicia would’ve called friends crying about it being true. I would’ve cried that this is why I’m alone. I would’ve cried that I’m ugly. Instead, I chose to pause. I paused then looked at myself in the mirror and made myself say something nice. I do need to lose weight. That is not a lie. That is a truth I see every time I step out of the shower. It is not however my definition. It is not the reason I do or do not And I think I had forgotten that in not liking myself a lot these days.

I am not proclaiming allergies to those types of pics because I am fat sir. I am proclaiming them out of tiredness in seeing them. I am proclaiming it in an effort to ward off messages from those that I already know probably won’t be a match. And after your message today, I clearly need to update those parameters

P.S. he added his pic. But i still think the gorilla is a better choice

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Ripped Jeans

I didn’t realize just how many random thoughts I document per day (mostly on Facebook and Twitter) until I declared a Facebook absence for June. Just as an experiment, I have jotted down my thoughts in my phone notebook over the last couple of days. When I had the urge to post, I opened the notebook instead.

I cannot be the only person on planet Earth who has such randomness right? So, for lack of a better blog post (because I am simply beyond exhausted working the Walmart Shareholders/Associate Expo this week), I share with you pointless and random “faux” posts.

1. Nothing is more devastating in the matter of clothing than when your all time favorite pair of jeans gets a hole (in the inner thigh). Wait, what is more devastating is when your mom patches said jeans only for you to climb on top of a table to work on a tent and rip them beyond repair. RIP favorite jeans ever. I know throwing you in the Walmart trash can wasn’t the most respectable way to go and for that I’m sorry. Do you know how hard it is to find “that” pair of jeans that fits so right and brings you so much joy that you don’t even think twice about your mom putting an off colored patch on them when they need repair?

2. Arkansas may not get rain any other time of the year but you can always be guaranteed that during the week of Walmart Shareholders, while you are trying to set up a booth, at a fairground, that it will come a small monsoon (or also during the Yell County Fair). You can then get excited about the humidity that follows in your 10 hour outdoor workdays. Some people have muffin top….I have cankle top (where I am so swollen my ankles hang over my socks).

3. When taking your BRAND NEW CAR that has been hit to the collision center, do not make eye contact with the sweet lady receptionist. You will be trapped forever. Surely it is because she works with all men who seem to only talk about cars but either way, unless you have nothing but time, do not engage. ESPECIALLY if she starts the conversation about sewing which you know absolutely nothing about.

4. Should you agree to sign up for a 30 day ab challenge that gradually increases in intensity daily, it might be a good idea to consult your abs prior to starting the program. Trust me when I tell you that if you don’t they will rebel against you and make even the slightest task (like getting out of bed) make you feel like Satan himself is living inside of you. It is also probably wise not to dive feet first into a program such as this when you are spending 10+ hours on your feet at an event, in the heat, with cankle top. 😉

5. If I ever pose the question “why am I still single” to you. Politely remind me it is probably because no man can handle the retainer, eye cream, hair mask, granny gown, and chillow that I bring out nightly. Too much sexy can be hard on a man. I get it.

Here’s hoping for the week to pass quickly, for a miracle product to be invented for cankle top and bitchy fat girls in the heat, and for the man of my dreams to show up at this event and find the mixture of sweat and my perfume irresistible. 😉

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Why I’m Not Pregnant….a comedy

Happy “random stuff Alicia thinks about that makes no sense” Friday!!! 🙂  Take a listen to my thoughts on child birthing.

 

 

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Know Your Shopper….Shopping at Ulta

Recently I had quite the experience on a shopping trip to Ulta….followed by a not so pleasant customer service call.  I decided to “tell” you the story versus typing it all out (I know I get wordy and thought if you heard me actually tell a story then reading some of them would be a different experience in the future too)!!

 

What the ultra rep gave me in lieu of not having free gift with purchase
What the ultra rep gave me in lieu of not having free gift with purchase

Laughter in the Busy Basket

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I had no idea when I planned to blog everyday for the next 30 days in an effort to “do something different” and stick with it, that my busy basket would all of the sudden be filled to the rim!  I’m swamped at work more than ever.  I am moving to a new place this weekend.  I have a gala to attend Saturday night and literally every weekend until March is crammed packed with a full schedule.  I know, it’s all of my own doing.  I have already pulled out the big girl panties to deal.  It has however, interfered with my great plan to peacefully just come home and write an abundance of really thought provoking, in depth words of wisdom.  Instead, it has lead to exhaustion induced comedy.  Or at least that is my way of dealing with the overwhelmed and exhausted feeling.

So, without further delay I bring you my Wednesday (which I thought was Thursday all day)

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  • It started with no less than 10 snooze button hits followed by a 30 minute conversation with myself about how no matter how busy things are, I must get up.  Hiding under the covers will not work.  I then negotiated with myself that I would get away with a messy pony tail and sport my red/white polka dotted glasses and that should ignite the sassy factor getting the day started.

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  • When I get to work, I start my usual routine of making a cup of green tea (I so miss coffee on this stinking detox) and warming up breakfast.  Then I like to get to my desk, enjoy my breakfast and evaluate what the glorious day beholds for me.  I do not like being interrupted while in conversation with another person.  Especially when it’s by a spastic, over-reacting coworker wanting me to do something that they are more than capable of doing themselves.  What if I died tomorrow Tory?  Who would schedule your meeting then? When am I going to get that paper work done for you?  You mean the 6 new projects worth of paperwork that I just got yesterday? Can you not see that I’m eating my omelet, talking to someone else about another project and waiting on my green tea to kick in?  Do you not realize the implications of making a big girl on detox put her fork down when this omelet recipe is one of the only things that feels like food????????

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  • Based on the immediate interruption compared to the amount of work I must accomplish today, I decide to lock myself in one of the side offices that stay empty in our office.  Perfect.  I can listen to my music out loud, spread all my papers and junk out and crank out some serious work today.  Go.  Wait!  What in the living heck is wrong with this mouse?  Why will it only scroll on the bottom of my screen?  Ugh, I’m moving the dang thing all over.  Great.  I have fought my computer for a week and now my bleeping mouse is going to go crazy?  Oh, wait.  It’s pointed upside down and facing the wrong way?  Ummmm, ok.  My bad.  (it’s a Mac wireless mouse so easy to confuse ok?)

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  • I watch Tory pass by the office no less than 32 times throughout the day.  I can tell it is taking every bit of restraint not to come peek in to ask me something.  Don’t do it Tory.  Not today.

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  • Lunch break.  Quick run to get the keys to my new apartment.  Definitely a high point in the day.  I am SO EXCITED for new adventures.  I haven’t been on my own since leaving the abusive relationship I was in a couple of years ago.  I can’t wait to move continue healing and move forward.  I know there are so many good things ahead.  I sit in the middle of the living room floor just looking around and enjoying the silence.  Yes, it’s an apartment with neighbors.  Yes I wanted to wait until I had everything completely perfect before moving.  Of course I haven’t packed.  I have no “theme” planned out for each room.  I still need to pick up a thousand things.  But sometimes I think waiting til all is in order is a way of putting off stepping out of my comfort zone.  Shhhh Alicia.  Enjoy the silence.  There is no barking dog next door (seriously I don’t know how the dog even has a bark left because it LITERALLY barks ALL NIGHT LONG EVERY SINGLE NIGHT).  You are sitting in your own place.  On your own.  Not looking over your shoulder wondering if the car passing by is your ex coming back for you.  Those keys in your hand are your next step to the wonderful life you have been working so hard for.  Ok, peaceful elation over.  Back to work.

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  • THANKFULLY my coworker that joined me in the side office (she needed to hide as much as I did) and turned on some great tunes.  There we were, rocking out our to do list, rapping to some 90’s Will Smith.  Like a boss.

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  • FINALLY leave work to come home and cook.  This whole cooking thing is so new to me but I am loving it.  I have never cared to cook for just myself.  But now that I am doing this detox and have to be so careful about what I eat, I have forced myself to learn to cook.  And I love it.  I make the detox version of parmesan chicken and start to tackle a homemade ice cream recipe.  So excited to have a taste of cocoa.  Add in the bananas and I am pretty sure that every crazy thing about today is going to melt away.  Nope.  The ice cream was a huge fail.  Sad times.  The chicken though was good even if I did have to do without the cheese.  I don’t cook pretty.  I make a huge mess.  But I’m trying.  So the chicken was a little burned.  I’m eating it anyway.

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  • Gave a free profile consultation to a guy on the dating website I am on to help improve his presence there.  That was fun.  Did the dishes.  That was not fun.  And lastly sat down to some good tunes on Spotify to type this so that I hold up my promise.  Unfortunately there are a few work emails that need to be dealt with before bed but it was a nice break to cook and write.

I love a good balance of busy and downtime.  But I also choose to look at times when the busy takes over as an opportunity to buckle down, see what I am made of, and learn something from it for the future.  I like to laugh at myself in the process and look back to see how far I came and wonder how in the heck I made it through that season.

Never take life too seriously.  Nobody makes it out alive. ~ Sydney J. Harris

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Babyless Single Woman Enters Nursery War Zone

Ok.  So, maybe it wasn’t a complete war zone (although judging by the amount of toys pulled out it could certainly pass for at least a mine field) but it certainly was the night they let a single woman be in charge of the nursery.  And it was not without obstacles.

Once per month, I signed up to volunteer for babysitting.  I get to watch precious kiddos while foster parents take the classes they need to qualify for fostering.  It’s a GREAT program called The Call.  I am so happy to get to be a part of helping families open up their homes to sweet kids who have become a part of the system for whatever reason.  So far, I have only had one night of this and it was with one sweet four year old boy who was very low maintenance.  For my second night, I was given the babies.  The following are the happenings of that adventure:

1.  I had 5 children that ranged from the ages of 4 months through 2 years.  I also was fortunate to have a young girl as a helper.  I cannot remember a time in my life that I was ever around this many children of these young ages.  I am confident in my ability to handle this situation because I manage million dollar programs in my job, kids love me, and I have all this new found energy with my detox challenge.  I accept my mission gladly.

2.  I quickly learned that the average attention span for this age is about 4.2 seconds.  I have always wondered why parents buy this age so many toys.  How will they remember them or why would they care how many toys they have?  Now I know.  Because with the attention span of 4.2 seconds, you need at least 8,000,004 toys to go through.  It is rare that they go back to the same toy twice.  Or it was tonight anyway….believe me, I tested this theory to the fullest.

3.  Even though these kids could not talk well, that did not keep you from seeing the 5 completely different personalities.  The more I think about it, fitting those little and widely different personalities into a closed room is much like a lot of the adult meetings I have on a daily basis.  Too bad when one of the adults takes my toys, I can’t say “mine” and hit them like these kids do so freely! : )

4.  For the ones that could speak tonight, the common sentence stated was “mine”.  Yes, that is a sentence to them.  It states boldly a noun, verb, adjective and so forth : )

5.  At first, when little miss two year old had her melt down over not getting anymore Goldfish for snack (after she had already had two helpings and some cheese puffs) I wondered what on earth had gone so wrong in her day that no more Goldfish warranted this kind of melt down. Then, I realized how eery it was that I could relate.  I am on day 7 of a 21 day detox and sat and watched coworkers eat Chuy’s Mexican food at lunch today (my fav Mexican in this area).  Inside I was having a melt down of my own and restraining myself from stealing food off of their plates.  We have more in common than you know during this melt down princess.

6.  This age group has zero interest in my Mega Bloks tower that I strategically built.  All I wanted was a little praise and all they wanted was to destroy it with their tractors, trucks, and precious little hands.  I will address with my therapist, it’s already on my list : )

7.  Actually no.  No I cannot work the child safety door knobs.  But thanks for making it look so easy sixth grade girl helper.  She didn’t know I couldn’t work them.  I just secretly watched her and copied.

8.  The mom of the four month old stated that the baby will not drink the bottle unless it’s warm.  Lucky for me, there was this gadget on the top shelf that looked like it might be a bottle warmer.  I have no idea how I even knew this but I just had a feeling (maybe that’s code for my biological clock?….oh…wait…..).  I plug it in and push a button and expect it to work.  When it doesn’t (after several pushes of the button), I resort to pulling out my phone and googling it.  I watched a YouTube video as well as read two articles in order to learn this gadget.  The bottle was warmed.  The baby was happy.  The end.

9.  You cannot ignore the smell of a dirty diaper.  You can be in denial about it but you cannot ignore it.  I feel like the fact that I located the source (since I had three in diapers to choose from), changed the diaper (even though the kid WOULD NOT be still), and knew where to dispose the diaper (in those tube like things that seem to work like a bank drive through), that I can definitely conquer the world like I have planned.

10.  I have helped pick up friend’s kids at daycares and such before and am always barely getting in by the last minute if not late all together.  I completely understand why these places charge you by the minute if you’re late.  When you are given a time that you are to be in a room with wild banshies, you start watching the clock for the countdown of your relief.  It’s the moment you know that your sanity may return.  Every minute past that proposed end time and you feel like you may never know what it’s like to talk to another adult, wear a spit-up free shirt, wear other scents besides hand sanitizer…….I completely get it now and will be a loud advocate for being on time to pick up your child.  Should a parent be late for any reason (which I have seen those reasons on other volunteer projects be something as simple as standing out in the lobby chatting) they should show up with chocolate, prozac, or a massage gift certificate for the worker staying late to keep their child.  Especially if that care is free.  : ) *please note* this did not happen during this particular session I am speaking of.  It just made me think of the times that it has happened to others I know as well as me being the late one sometimes in the past.

11.  They did enjoy my singing them a few little songs which is more than I can say for my coworkers who never seem to fully appreciate the daily desk concerts I give them.

Overall it was a fantastic time.  I love kids so much more than I could ever convey here. I gladly take most any opportunity to be around them.  I only had them for two hours or so and am already wondering how on earth you parents do it full time.  I worked all day, did baby duty, worked when I got home, and am barely staying awake to type this.  Being a parent is a super power of it’s own.  If you’ve read this far, thanks for hanging in there.  I am too tired to even give this a thorough spell check, grammar check (not that my grammar is ever great on this blog) or format check.  I’m having a hard time even talking myself into changing into my jammies.  I feel more like it’s been one of those nights back in my old party days where I just went home and passed out on my bed “as is”.

I finally understand how no sound can be an amazing sound as I sat in silence for 5 minutes after they all left soaking up the peace and thanking God for the chaos that came before it!

Life is good.  I am so blessed with people who are willing to let me share their kids in absence of being able to have my own. This post was meant for humor purposes from my random mind only and not to offend.

 

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