Boot Buddies

Apparently I have joined some sort of cult, some exclusive club, a fraternity of sorts. It all happened without me ever knowing. All I had to do was show up in public, wearing a walking cast, and BAM!! I was in. I would invite you in too, but I'm afraid this group is very restrictive. See you have to be wearing or have worn a walking cast, otherwise, sorry there is no room for the never-been booted. I first noticed I was in when I went to a spring training baseball game and like three people stopped me to tell me about how they had just gotten out of their boot, or show me their scars. And then if that wasn't enough, it happened again today at the grocery store. But here's the wierd part... we may all be in the same cult, but it is very competitive. Everyone wants to tell you "their story"... what happened to them to put them in the boot, and then they want to hear yours. And this is the part where I really get them. It's pretty hard to top the "I broke my tibia and fibula in a spiral fracture just above the ankle and had to have emergency surgery so now I have a plate, 6 screws and 2 pins holding my now bionic ankle together". They just don't see it coming and then as quickly as they inducted me into their little club... I beat them over the head with it. I told my mom it's the only good thing about this whole ordeal. I least I really committed to breaking my ankle. I didn't just hair-line fracture one bone... oh no... not me. I went for it... and now at least I can be at the top of the boot club.

Are you feeling lucky???

So I'm reading this book called "The Survivors Club" by Ben Sherwood (I highly recommend it!). It's all about facing a crisis whether it be car accident, serious illness, injury, violent crime, financial trouble, etc and coming out on top. Not only surviving, but thriving. I'm in the chapter entitled The Science of Luck. Basically, it's all about how much luck plays into surviving any of lives difficult situations. The book is based on interviews with survivors and studies done by more psycho-somethings than I can count. Anyway, part of this chapter talks about the differences between lucky and unlucky people, claiming that there is such a thing, but that we create our own luck. Lucky people expect good things to happen to them, they don't miss any of life's opportunities and they listen to their hunches. But it also says that lucky people see that even the bad things in their life could have been worse and are always looking at the postive side. It totally reminded me of my friend K who just got laid off of work and still has the most fantastic attitude. When I talk to her, she says she really believes she is going to better because of this. And a year from now, she will be thankful it happened. The most amazing responses. That is what I am totally missing. I think I am totally one of those "woe is me" type of people. Like with my broken ankle (P.S. Still broken, still have walking cast), I totally have the "why the f did this happen to me?" thing going. I don't see a light or a positive side. I feel like I already did my time in the hospital with the blood clot and spent months trying to get my life back on track and then this?? That's just not fair!!! See... nothing positive.
And then I read a part of the book that really got me thinking. It was all about this woman who was allegedly the "injury queen". She had more broken bones and near death experiences than you would think anyone could take. She was like a cat with 9 lives! So she decided to look into her accident prone-ness and along the way discovered several studies which suggest that people "who experience repeated accidents often suffer from psychological disorders like depression and anxiety." Sound familiar?? Both problems I am being treated for right now, problems I didn't have before the first hospitalization. She realized that somewhere along the line she figured out that getting hurt provided her with a kind of nurturing, that she didn't have to be totally responsible, and that the physical pain allowed her a reason to cry that other people would understand. I don't know that I believe I totally fit into all of that, but it is interesting... and kind of scary to think about. Could I have let myself get hurt???
I'll leave you with one last thought about being lucky. Studies show that accident prone-ness does exist... and the people most at risk tend to be more hyperactive, impulsive, neurotic, extroverted and inclined to use alcohol or drugs.
So now... are you feeling lucky???

Curse of Cursing

So the other day I get cornered and scolded by a manager at work (not my manager, not even a manager in my department) about my cursing. Apparently, it is too often and I quote "a poor representation" of our company. Now this would be all fine and dandy if I were the only person at my work that swore. Or even perhaps if I was the worst offender. But none of that is the case. It feels like I was just singled out, for what reason? I have no idea. But the point is, if you want to ban the cursing, then ban it company-wide. Not just for me. Now I feel totally on edge. I am constantly trying to check my swearing so as not to offend anyone or worse yet, be a bad example at work. So basically that fact that I occasionally swear at work now has me walking on egg shells every day. And do you know what I have to say about all this??? It's a bunch of fucking bullshit... Why the hell should I have any different rules than any of the other douche bags at work?? Let's put the swearing ban to a vote... I'm pretty sure that I can tell you how it would end... with double middle fingers... all around!!!

Never Enough

Do you ever feel like you are just plain never enough? Never good enough? That is how I have been feeling at work lately. I work my ass off. I give 110% every day. I come to the table with ideas. I care... about my performance, and the overall outcome. But still it seems to not be enough. And every day I feel like it is something. Everyday I wake up feeling like, "It is a new day," and then I get to work and within hours my good mood is crushed. From a boss who I feel like hates me and is constantly targeting me and picking on me, to a manager I barely know telling me my foul language is out of control and I am a "poor representation" of our company. And then there is the fact that I am the only one losing in the ratings in our early show. All of it just makes me feel like shit. Especially because I do care so much, not only about my job, but being good at it and respected. And worse yet, all of my major health issues have returned. I have insomnia, migraines and anxiety attacks... things I went for months without having to deal with. Problems I was thinking I was finally getting over and then with a snap of the fingers I am right back where I began. Is this how my life is always going to be? When times get tough, I am going to have to deal with all this extra bullshit too? I'm snapping, crabby, I can't be any fun to be around or talk to. I feel bad for my friends and especially my boyfriend who gets the brunt of my bitchiness. I just don't know what to do to make it better. Everyone says just hang on. You just hang on. I'm busy going crazy. Everyone says it will get better, but when? Because in the meantime I am so unhappy it hurts. And I feel like everything I do to try to make it better, come to work over-prepared, with tons of ideas, just ends up blowing up in my face because no one really gives a shit. And I still get snapped at. I guess the bottom line is... at least right now... if there is a light at the end of this tunnel, I must be blind.

"His" Toys

A man and his toys. No I am not talking about the four-wheel drive riding lawn mower he just got or the weed whacker that also prunes bushes and trims trees (do those things even exist??). I am talking about naughty toys... sex toys. So today a couple of girlfriends and I are having a discussion about bedroom toys and boys and it all clicked. All of the boys in our lives have disliked the personal pleasure makers we had BEFORE they arrived. But as soon as we buy them together, or they buy them for us... then they become fair game. In fact, they are totally in to them and all about using them to spice up the sex. So essentially, guys can't handle the fact that a toy MAY have been used with another man. No matter how many times it has been cleaned and sterilized. It is like kindergarten all over again. They all want their own special toys and they have zero intention of ever, EVER sharing. Listen, it's fine with me, because it just means that my stock gets updated on a regular basis and that can never be a bad thing. You really should always be on the cutting edge of the sex toys... it's the only edge to be on!!

Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

It's amazing how quickly our lives can change, whether we are prepared or not prepared, have advanced warning or not, see it coming or are totally blindsided... life changes happen in an instant and in my experience, most often when we are not looking. That's what happened to me this week. I was hit by a Mac Truck and lost one of my best friends at work. And even though I knew it was a possibility, I totally didn't see it coming. It was like I was walking blindly through traffic... knowing I could get hit, but just hoping I wouldn't. If you are thinking, well it wasn't you so what's the big deal? Then I am thinking either you A. Have never been through this or B. Have no real close friends at work. It is a loss.... an unexplainable, unfulfillable loss. Am I surprised by how hard I am taking it? Absolutely! But then again, I had no idea I would ever be here either. I feel cheated. I am extremely angry. I feel betrayed by the people I thought I should have been able to trust. How do you get over those feelings? How do you just let that go? How do you move on, when you know they fucked up?? They dropped the ball and let go one of our biggest assets. How do you go back to putting your heart and soul into what you do everyday, no questions asked, no complaints?? How do you go back to loving your job when you are hating what your workplace has done??

Handicapped Crusade

I've taken up a new mission in life, to educate those of you who have never had to deal with being handicapped. And since my little ordeal, I can not tell you how appalled I am, about parking, people, and attitudes. So I'm taking up the handicapped accessible crusade... and I'm not going to stop bitching until I get some action. For instance, the gas station by my house thinks it is doing its part by having two handicapped parking spots, but they are at the end of the building. And the only ramp to get up is at the end of the building, every where else it's this giant curb of death. Who puts handicapped parking spots farthest away from the door? Everyone knows that fully defeats the purpose!!! Irritating. I might be banning you, QT on Greenfield just south of the US 60. That's right, I just called you out... What are ya gonna do about it??? And then, there are the people. Some just see you on crutches or a scooter, obviously handicapped and still let the door close right in front of you. Others watch you try to empty your basket of groceries on your rascal scooter at the store (it's embarrassing enough that I had to ride that thing) onto the check out belt, knowing you are having a hard time reaching the front of the basket and still don't offer to help. HELLO!!! What has happened to compassion, humanity, being nice? But the thing that really put me over the edge was when I went to meet some friends for happy hour the other night at this bar. I know they have two handicapped spots in this lot next to the bar, otherwise you have to park on the street and walk. So I pull into the lot and both handicapped spots are taken. And then I look closely and realize that the car parked in the second handicapped spot, isn't even handicapped. They don't have a handicapped plate or a decal. So now I'm really pissed... I have to go park way down the street and limp my way into the bar, because this asshole has decided that handicapped people don't go out to the bar. On my very long and slow walk, I thought about all the things I would say to this asshole. And then I thought about writing them a note and leaving it on the car, but I really didn't want to take time out of my night, just to teach some douche bag (Can we agree on douche bag here frenemy?? I really think it applies!!!) a lesson. So I've come up with a new plan. I'm going to write a letter and make copies and just carry them around in my car, so I can just leave them and move on with my life without wasting anytime.
Here's my rough draft...

Dear Handicapped Parking Spot Stealer,
You or someone you know and love has obviously never needed to use one of these parking spots because otherwise there is no way you would be so arrogant as to think that you have a right to park in this spot. I don't care what your excuse is, it is not good enough. Be thankful you don't need to use this spot and then realize that there are hundreds of thousands of people out there who do and have the decency and the common courtesy to stay out of the spots that are designated to make their already difficult lives, just a little bit easier. If I were you, I would feel ashamed. And I would certainly hope that I wasn't watching you get into your car right now.
Have a wonderful day!

So... What do you think??
If you care to join the crusade and carry letters in your car too I could use all the soldiers I can get!!!

"You should really smile"

By far the worst pick-up line EVER. Listen up men/boys/drunken idiots. It's time to throw this line away. We ALL hate it. And I have NEVER seen it work. So last night I'm at this new bar and some drunken idiot decided to try it on me. From across the patio bar he shouts, "You need to smile." Okay let me tell you what is wrong with that sentence. First, don't ever tell me what I need to do. And second, it's like saying there is something wrong with me the way I am now. I'm already put off and you are across the room. So I respond. "I hate it when people say that." Call me a bitch, I think I'm doing this guy a favor (and now so are all of you who are about to pass it on to your brother, co-worker or friend who just refuses to give up the smile line). You would think maybe that would shut this guy down... but oh no, he's persistent. He says, "You're just not smiling now." To which I respond, "Well I'm not mad and I'm not pouting so I don't know what you want from me". He takes this as an invitation to come over and talk to us... yes I'm for real. When douche bag (I think I can call this guy douche bag, don't you frenemy???- If you are lost read the next blog...) arrives, he says, "I didn't say you were pouting, it's just that about five minutes ago you were totally smiling and you have a beautiful smile." Then he looks at my friend R "I mean you have a nice smile too, but her smile is gorgeous." I respond with my fakest "Thank you, that's really so sweet. You're so nice." And then after a moment of silence he says, "Well, I'm gonna go." Of course R and I didn't try to stop him. Then R looks at me and asks the question... THE QUESTION... "What did he expect? You to say, 'Oh thank you, Fuck me now!'" So men still using that line, what do you expect? It sounds more like a command than a compliment so I am immediately turned off... and never, ever tell me what to do. Therefore, the way I see it, this is a line that is never, ever getting you laid!

Douche Bag vs. Dick Head

Did you know there was a difference?? I didn't really either, but my new frenemy made that abundantly clear last night. Let me start at the beginning... so my friend (real friend) wanted us to go meet this new guy she is interested in at some unheard of bar. We, being the loyal girlfriends that we are, of course said yes. So we get there. And her boy toy, his brother, and their two friends are already there. We immediately lose our one friend to the infatuation conversation. So R and I decide to try and be nice and strike up a friendly convo of our own with his friends. Bad idea!! The frenemy is basically acting like a douche bag, which I of course tell him. He says it's all part of the game to make his friend look good. We tell him it is definitely working. He gets pissed off. So now we have to make nice. So R tells him it's okay, I'm a bitch. I agree, he agrees and now we are all friends again. For a second... then the frenemy decides to totally insult our job, something I find no humor in... and I decide I am over him and the exhausting conversation. So R and I are talking amongst ourselves when his so-called "nice" friend (I call bullshit... he's a total player hiding in sheep's clothing!!!) says "frenemy" has something to say to us. He half-ass apologizes for insulting our job but says that it's all because we called him a douche bag and he is NOT a douche bag, he is a dick head. I, trying not to laugh, ask what the difference is. He then, very seriously, explains to me that there is a HUGE DIFFERENCE. A douche bag is someone who is a loser all the time. They have nothing going for them in all aspects of their life. A dick head is someone who can turn their douche bag behavior on and off. "Oh well now I see," I pretend to care. "I promise that from now on "frenemy", I will always refer to you as a dick head and never a douche bag. I really apologize." So then "frenemy" and I were back on each other's good side... at least for another 5 minutes. The length we have to go to sometimes to stroke a man's ego... ridiculous!

Groupie vs. Fan

So my friend "J" and I have been following this band for quite a while, well her longer than me actually because she used to live in the city the band is from. But this band (which I will break my rules and name because they are so good I think you should all go and check them out!!) Sunday Afternoon occassionally ventures up to our area to play shows and so everytime they do, J and I make every effort possible to be there. And we always try to drag people to the show with us. People just don't know them here, but no one we have ever taken has not wanted to go back again. In fact, now were collecting our own little group of friends. And people think we actually know music!!! But that's not the point. So last night, there were two guys with us that both of us had just met at happy hour with a mutual friend. And since we were such loyal fans, they apparently assumed we knew someone, if not everyone in the band. Ha ha we laughed... "no we just admire from afar!" And then we tried to explain to them that we didn't even really want to know them. That we didn't want to be groupies. We don't want to sleep with these guys. We just really appreciate their music and think they are extremely talented. In fact, we both agreed if we really knew them, it may ruin it. Because what if they were dicks to their girlfriends, or had no personality, or were cheaters, or what if they thought that we wanted to be groupies and tried to go down that route??? All of these things could ruin what we already have... which is a beautiful fan relationship. One where they don't know we exist... and we get to go to all the shows and listen to their amazing music with no akwardness or strings attached. To all you groupies out there, more power to ya. It's just not the route I am looking to take with Sunday Afternoon. So in this case... when it comes to the groupie versus the fan... the fan totally kicks ass!!!

Crawl before you walk

What's that saying... "you have to learn how to crawl before you can walk"?? Well I am crawling again and praying I can figure out this walking thing. I feel like a toddler all over again. Except I don't have a cushey diaper to land on if I fall down!! That's right folks... the cast is off and it's now time for me to start walking again. Easier said than done. My right calf is seriously half the size of the left one and I feel like I have no control over the muscles in my ankle. Every movement is painful... but I have to do it... I have to push through. That's what happens when muscles aren't used in 7 weeks and your ankle is completely rebuilt with a bunch of metal!! So I'm in a walking cast, but I can't yet walk in it. I have to use crutches to help, hopefully not for long. Anyway, the bottom line is I'm back to crawling... using that couch to pull myself up... and hoping to soon be able to take my first steps. Get your video cameras ready kids...

Jury Dreams Dashed

All my jury duty hopes and dreams were dashed today. Believe it or not, I was actually looking forward to jury duty. Not that I wanted to get picked, just that I wanted to go see what it was all about. My instructions were simple. Call at 11am to hear when your group number is to report for jury duty today. I was ready and waiting at 11am. I anxiously dialed the number and the recording began... "please listen to the message all the way to the end. Groups number .... are to report to the Courthouse at 12:45am. Groups.... and 8501 (my group)... are released. If your services are needed in the future, you will receive another summons." Ahh... the heartbreak... no jury duty. Maybe I was just curious since the courts are something I deal with at work all the time... maybe I should be counting my blessings that I didn't get called. But I can't help but feeling a little bit cheated. Did you know that neither one of my parents have ever been called for jury duty either?? I think it's the name!!!

Scootin' Around Town

So last night was a big night... I took the scooter out on the town for the very first time! It was a birthday party for one of the guys I work with at a brewery/bar/restaurant. I've been there before, so I knew it was pretty spacious and that they had a lot of tables and so I figured the scooter and I could handle it. It was totally wierd getting ready (I can't remember when the last time I have really put make-up on was). I arranged it so that I would meet two of my co-workers/girlfriends there, so we could all go in together, just in case I needed help getting through a crowd. It all worked out great. They had tables and chairs for us to sit at, so we plopped down and got a beer and kicked it. We were having a great time until about 12:30, the birthday boy and his crew decided they wanted to go to a different bar. I have been to that bar too and I knew it was not going to be scooter friendly. So we passed (well we being one of my girls and I... somewhere along the way our third friend became enchanted with a glasses-wearing, way-too-skinny, t-shirt over long sleeved shirt, I think I'm hotter than I am, asshole who happened to be friends with the birthday boy. Did I mention he decided to tell us all that he was f-ing two girls right now?? Good for you bro! I feel sorry for them!) So she left... and R and I stayed with another very drunk co-worker and his friend. We were all enjoying ourselves... but I was tired of standing and needed to sit. So I sat down on my scooter. Well a few minutes later, our very drunk co-worker decided that it was time for us to go to another bar, so he began to drag me... sitting on my scooter... out of the bar. I can already see this going badly so I am pleading with R for help... when we hit the ramp up to the patio and sure enough my scooter tips and I go flying off... landing on my ass... my good and my bad foot. It hurts like hell, but on top of that... EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE PLACE IS STARING AT ME. As if the girl on the scooter with the red sparkly cast didn't draw enough attention, now she's on the ground!!! Anyway, our co-worker's friend picks me up and I scoot my way out. Our very drunk co-worker feels awful. I'm not mad, just now it a lot of pain and it's time for me to call it a night. So R and I head home. Overall I would say it was a successful night out, but the moral of the story is... you can never predict what the drunks will do with your wheels... NEVER LET YOUR GUARD DOWN OR YOUR BRAKE OFF!!