Why Not!

Why have small cupcakes when you can have a GIANT one! Yup that is a 9" cake people!

Poop Is Not My Friend

Dear Friend,
Please do not ask me to come and babysit from 4-midnight on a Saturday night and not show up till 1:30. I will not appreciate it - trust me. Especially if I have to drive my boyfriend to the airport at 5:30 in the morning.

I know you are thing that "hey it's daylight savings time" and that "hey she won't mind she's our friend" but trust me I will mind and I will be very pissed off. I will be even more pissed off if I have to change not one but TWO poopy diapers while I am at your home. Not just simple poopy diapers either. One of the poopy diapers will be so bad it is smeared up the boys back and legs. It will be so bad that I will have to wash my hands repeatedly to get the poop smell off of them.

I will not appreciate this either.

This will make me never want to babysit for you again. Sure you're boys are smart, clever, and lovely. They will snuggle and give kisses. Nothing, however, will ever help me recover from the amount of poop I had to clean up. It may even cause me to think twice about those children I have been so craving having lately.

I will say that although you have almost ruined my evening by the poop and the lateness my dear boy will still come through by spending a good three hours with me "keeping me company". I will remind myself at the end of the evening that it is better to be loved by him than to ever have children and clean up poop.

Thank you for reminding me of this crucial point.

Just one more tip of advice, my dear friend - would you mind calling next time you plan to be an hour and a half late home from an already poop filled evening of babysitting? Not to be a bitch or anything - but let me remind you for the 3rd time that I do have to be up at 5:30 in the morning to take my dear boy to the airport.

Thank You SO much for the much needed birth control evening at your home.

Regards,
Suzanne

I Don't Think You Get It

As a teenager I would babysit for my neighbors kids. Usually I'd have at least 1-2 jobs a week for a few hours at a time. When I look back on that job I realize that I totally thought of it as a way to make money and not a way to teach and nurture children. I used to turn on the tv and plop the kids in front of it even though they would beg me to play with them.

I didn't want to PLAY with them - I wanted to eat popsicles and watch tv. Many parents requested that they only get 1/2 hour of tv time maximum. I of course would turn it on the minute they left the driveway. I would also talk on the phone to my friends while I was there. As most people know teenage girls need telephones surgically removed from their ears.

Fast forward to now - and I feel really guilty about the way I used to take care of children. I was never mean, never punished them really, always cared for them and changed their diapers. Let me explain the guilt by using my friend Jennifer.

Jen had me over last weekend to hang out and have a few glasses of wine while we played with her kids. I asked her if they ever watched TV she said they wouldn't even know what it was. They think its a method to listen to music and dance - since she has those music channels by genre. She said they play with toys and read all day long and that's how she likes it. I totally agreed with her. I agree that if you take the whole TV element out of the equation at least when they are really little their brains have room to expand.

So she asked me if I could babysit this weekend and I got all excited knowing that we would sing songs, dance, play games, and read. That's when this memory hit me of how I despised that as a teen. Maybe it's because now I can imagine them being my own kids and I know that I'd want mine to be interacted with.

I made sure to let Jen know that I really know nothing about children. Sure I've changed my fair share of diapers and fed them cheerios. I've even snuggled with them and played games. I just haven't done that stuff in YEARS. It's as if you go into some sort of time warp in college where you don't see anyone under 18 for 5 years.

When she asked me to do it I responded with this email:
"Sure you trust me with your kids? I only pretend to know how to take care of them... really I know nothing. All I know is how to sing."
To which she responded:
"They love to sing. What more do you need to know?"

So now I'm totally freaked. I dont' remember how to do this? I imagine it's how most first time mothers feel when they take the baby home from the hospital....except that would worse of course. I'll be sure to update about my adventure so you can all tell me everything I did wrong.

Wino

I'm sick of being under fire everytime I have a drink of alcohol.

I had 2 drinks the other night. Not even drinks. Just wine. 2 glasses of a fine australian shiraz.

3.hours.later.

He's harping on me that I stink of alcohol and won't kiss me hello. He also won't let me drive his new car because "I'm drunk".

I've had this conversation over and over with him. I maybe drink two times a month tops - usually once if at all. I have never had more than 3 glasses of wine at one sitting since I've dated him.

I'm sick of defending myself against something that doesn't need defending. I've never been a big drinker, never done any drug, usually the first to punk out on a drinking evening in college. Always the first to fall asleep - when everyone used to give me a hard time saying "come on one more shot!" I never did. Just couldn't.

And now... I have a boyfriend who thinks I drink too much?? It seems ironic.

I've told him, that he has to accept that I socially drink every once in a while. I have agreed to not having alcohol in the house - that was fine with me. But, I'm not gonna stop having a nice glass of wine every once in a while just because he used to not be able to control himself.

So what do you say? How do you explain it? How do I make him accept that part of me?

When I Was Your Age

Mr.M's best friend is in crisis. His friend has a 15 year old daughter. His daughter told him she was going to walk to the store with her friend to get some candy. She showed up four hours later drunk.

Last year they found cocaine in her bedroom. When asked why she was doing coke she said it was because her back hurt. While this might have worked (probably not) with most parents as an excuse it most definitely won't work when both of your parents are recovering drug and alcohol addicts. Both parents have been sober for over 15 years. Spoke to their children very frankly about drugs and alcohol always.

So what went wrong?

Maybe she wasn't in enough after school activites. Maybe it's genetic. Maybe she wasn't paid enough attention. I don't know the answer.

What I do know is that I didn't take a drink of alcohol until I graduated from highschool and I never did a drug, ever. I did my share of sneaking out - only to TP someone's house or carouse about town. Never to drink. Sometimes to get laid. hehehe.

So if I should have a child - how do I teach them?

I guess that's the million dollar question. If there was a fool proof answer - Mr.M wouldn't be over their trying to get his friend to unlock the office door and talk to him. That's right, he's locked himself in. Doesn't know what to do - just froze.

Which is why I'm writing this and not snuggling with my man.

Letter To CEO's

Dear CEO's Of Corporate America,
If you require metrics in the daily workings of your employees - you run the risk of them spending more time recording what they are doing than actually doing anything at all let alone the job that they were hired for. Therefore, making your company LESS efficient and requiring departments to hire additional people to do the actual work that the company says is their job.
Please refrain from making me track every aspect of my job as I fear I am now tracking my tracking and am no longer doing anything.

Sincerely,
Annoyed Corporate Drone

The Only Virgin I Ever Knew

I had a friend from 7th grade through about 10th or 11th and her name was Bridget(alias). We were inseparable during that time where your girlfriends are your life. We went on several family trips together. I would go with her to her family cabin every summer and she would come with us to Cancun etc etc.

Bridget was a very religious girl. She attended church every Sunday and was active in her youth group. I was too, but more so to meet boys than anything else. I would ride my bike to Bridget's house every morning the summer's before 8th and 9th grade. We wouldn't even make the arrangement it was just a given that I would show up around 9 and then we would sit by her pool till about 2. I was a very tan teenager... and am now a very pale adult.

Bridget had boyfriends as did I. The difference was that she kept them at an arms distance when it came to all things sexual. The weirdd thing was that it wasn't her parents that were instilling this in her. It was HER decision to be like this. I remember her parents begging her to loosen up and relax with her boyfriends. Her parents, I'm pretty sure, were ex-hippies.

I remember the first real fight we had. She found out that I had lost my virginity to my boyfriend of two years. She wouldn't speak to me for weeks. I tried to explain it to her but she wouldn't hear it.

We gradually went our separate ways but still remained friendly and would hang out from time to time.

When we both went to college she ended up going to an ultra-conservative christian private college that had rules about how wide the door had to be when boys were in your room. I went to a private college too, but mine was all about sex, drugs, and drinking. About half way through my freshman year I received an email from Bridget.

The email was sent to pretty much everyone and anyone she had ever spoken to from highschool, not just her close friends. In it she condemned us all to hell and told us that she could never have relationships with any of us because we do not live in the image of christ. She has now found her home and is surrounded by people who love God.

I wasn't shocked by this email. Not in the slightest. Freshman from this particular college that she was attending were known for sending this email out. It's like some sort of right of passage there. Once you denounce all your heathen friends from highschool you are then closer to become truly righteous.

She called me a year later to apologize. I wasn't surprised by this either. She's not a bad person - she just got a little excited about the whole christian thing. I forgave her before she asked for it because I knew they weren't her words. Although she was asking for forgiveness she wasn't asking for friendship so I left it at that.

I recently found her father's email and sent him a quick note asking how he was doing and how Bridget was doing. He got very excited and sent me an email right away. As did her mother who gave me Bridget's email, address, and phone number. I decided to email Bridget and just see what's up with her.

She wrote back and seemed interested in getting together. She's married now (which seems to be true for almost everyone I meet my age these days) and has an 18 month old little boy. I called her cell phone today and heard her voice for the first time in seven odd years. Talk about a strange feeling. It was my 14 year old friend on the voicemail - shy, nervous, but an adult.

We're meeting next week for coffee or ice cream (her suggestion - I'm assuming she probably doesn't drink).

So - do you think I can ask her what it was like to finally have sex??? hehehehe.

KIDDING - I'm kidding.

maybe.

Old School Cupcakes

I'd post the recipe but I think I need to make a few adjustments to the filling recipe. It's not quite right yet. They look lovely though - don't they?

We Want Out

I'm finding a pattern in the lives of women I read about and talk to on a daily basis. Our lives not so different even though we live in different states, different countries, married, not married, children, or no children.

We want out.

Helen is living quite possibly the worst work-related stressed out life I can imagine. The stress is making her literally sick.

Elizabeth finally told her company where to stick it. She was being hounded for months at her job.

My friend Steph is up to her eye-balls seeing no way out as she can't seem to hire the people necessary to do the job. Her promised "friday's off" deal is not holding and she's missing her two boys (ages 1 and 2) so badly I can see her skin screaming.

I'm feeling like there is not so much a "glass ceiling" above me but rather a GIANT CEMENT one. There is no room for advancement in my department. There is only 1 spot above me and that one spot is filled by a wonderfully qualified and exceedingly amazing woman. That's the only good part - I have an amazing boss. Bad part - I have no where to move. The only thing I could maybe do is make a lateral move to another department so that I can then eventually move upwards.

This just ticks me right off. All these qualified, smart, savvy women are being beaten down and worked so hard they can't even remember why they wanted this in the first place. I say - we start a movement. We all quit and start some amazing company where we value our employees, pay them what they deserve, don't ask questions when they need to care for their children or are sick, and most of all respect them.

When's lunch - I need a breather.

I Could Write Screenplays With This Stuff

I've been having some pretty outstanding dreams lately. The one last week I would say was more terrifying than outstanding, but last night's was right up there with movie material.

My dreams are always in color. I can smell, taste, feel, and use all my senses. I can also usually describe them weeks, months, and years later in great detail. I had some repeat dreams as a child that to this day I can tell you what I was wearing and who was there.

Last night I dreamt this psuedo-back to the future dream. I dreamt that my family knew that the end of the world was coming. I don't know how they knew... but they did. Apparently many people knew and someone had developed a way for us all to live full lives regardless of this event.

Someone had developed a time machine that would take us back to 1993 (don't know why that was significant). The scientist who created the time machine had figured that if we all went back 12/13 years that we would all get the necessary time to live full lives. Don't ask me why this made sense... it was a dream people.

I had told Mr.M that I would be back in a few days and gave him a kiss and hug. I guess I really did think I was coming back - my parents must have told me I was. The trip back to 1993 takes 12 hours. So we slept, ate, and played cards in the metal room for that long.

Next thing I knew - we were in 1993 except I was 26 years old (as I am now). We were all in the house we lived in in 1993. Our furniture and the house were exactly the same except we were all the age we are now.

We went on our merry way until I mentioned that I should probably be getting back soon since Mr.M would be wondering where I was. They said, "oh no, you didn't think we were going back did you?"

I freaked out. I had to get back to him. So I tried to think of a way to get him a message to tell him that I was ok and am trying to find a way back to him. Since I was now in 1993 and he was still in 2005 this would be difficult.

First thought was to find where he was living in Las Vegas and call him (sincein 1993 he was living in Vegas) and tell him that I was his future girlfriend and that in 2005 I would leave - but I was coming back. I decided against this idea as I knew I would sound like a lunatic and it might hinder our future if he knew I was going to be with him someday.

Then I thought that I could somehow leave him a note that he would find at just the right time. PERFECT! I went to the house that we now live in and snuck in. I left a note wedged behind the plaster on the wall in the kitchen, knowing that we would remodel that kitchen when we moved in later in 2005. Then he would find the note when we ripped down the plaster and there would be the note telling him not to worry I was coming back. I also wrote in the note a message to myself - saying not to go with my parents back to 1993 and to stay with Mr.M.

Weird.

I should mention that I've been sick the last few days and my dreams might be a bit fever/medicine induced.

still weird though.

I Remember Now

I was asked to deal blackjack for the company fundraiser.

Yea, yea.. I know it's quirky and fun that I used to be a dealer. Isn't it weird? Isn't it funny? hhahahahah. shuthefuckup

I remember now why I quit dealing.

It's because I had heard enough of all the stupid things people would say.

"Why do you have to be so mean!" (when I get a blackjack and they lose)

"Give me a little card - THAT'S not a little card!" (when they hit their 13 and get a face card)

"She NEVER busts" (when I never bust)

"SMILE! Aren't you having fun?!?" (when I'm not having fun)

and so on and so on till I want to rip my hair out and throw the whole table over chips and cards flying everywhere.

Plus, I have a head cold. Suppose it could be worse - they could be blowing cigarette smoke in my face and then I could REALLY have deja vu.

Dream A Little Dream

I had the worst series of dream last night. So bad that I was awakened by Mr.M because I was crying in my sleep.

I dreamt that I was living with Mr. M and my co-worker in an apartment and that I had had a dream about him cheating on me with her. So when I awoke from my dream (within my dream)I asked him if he was. He confirmed that he had been sleeping with her for months.

I flipped out (in my dream) and was doing much gnashing of teeth and pulling of my hair. I was wailing and crying - my stomach had that ice cube feeling. This is when Mr. M woke me up. I told him he had cheated on me and he said, sorry. Then I fell back asleep.

The dream continued...

I then dreamt that his mother was there comforting me and that she was chastizing him for doing this to me. I came back to the apartment after calling my friend Renee and got him and the co-worker in a room together. I asked Mr.M to choose her or me.

He chose her.

I've felt that ice cube in the tummy all day now. This dream was more real than any I've ever had. I could tell you everything in vivid detail. I feel just sick about it.

Mr. M just called and said, "Goodmorning baby, sorry about cheating on you last night."

ugh.

Some Small Hotel In Texas

I casually dated a boy in college named Zach. He had shiny long hair to his chin that he used to sweep out of his eyes in a sexy kind of hard-ass way. He had smooth skin and wore a cowboy hat sometimes while he smoked his cigarette out in the Minnesota snow.

This boy wasn't from around here. I guess the cowboy hat should have tipped you off. He used to smoke that cigarette like James Dean with a slow and steady draw in. Squinting his eyes and then letting it seep out. I've never though cigarette smoking was at all attractive. But this boy - wooo weee.

He had a small superman logo tattooed to meaty part of his arm. I used to run my finger over it - it was so ironic in so many ways.

Zach was a recovering alcoholic and drug addict. He was attending my private lutheran college because of a special program they had there for people like him. It was a second chance at an education and a life.

I should tell you that Zach had a girlfriend. I was the other woman. I wasn't the only one. Zach had a way with women and it was amazing. He didn't purposefully seek them out. It's as if they are drawn to him, at least I was.

We had only a few intimate encounters until I found out from another person that he had Hepatitis C and it freaked me out beyond belief. He swore that he new about the disease and that he knew that I couldn't get it. I was angry and went directly to the Dr. I didn't get the disease, but it was a rude awakening about life. I require a testing before coming near anyone now.

I watched Zach get yellow with jaundice from his disease. I watched him go through violently ill nights and days from the medication.

Zach beat Hepatitis C. I just want to re-assure you right now that Zach did not die as a result of this. He fought and fought hard and he beat it completely. Which is un-heard of.

I graduated from college. Zach fell away as most acquaintances do after college. I heard through the grapevine about a year later that he had decided to go to seminary. Which I thought didn't quite fit him, but understood why he might feel the need to seek out the God that saved him.

Then I saw him at the weightroom at the school one day. I sometimes used the weight room even though I had graduated. He said his girlfriend had confessed to him that she was a lesbian. On top of that, she was pregnant with his baby.

Seems like a soap opera doesn't it? It was real life for Zach.

He told me he was going to try and live in the same house with his ex-girlfriend and her partner. So that he could help with the pregnancy and birth of his child.

Then he fell off the face of the earth. One day out of the blue I got a call from Zach. He wanted to hang out and go get a drink with me and Nene. I was shocked since I had always known him to be sober. He told me that he had decided to drink socially only. This raised big red flags for me - but I agreed to meet him anyway.

When he showed up - I nearly fell off my chair. He was thin, his hair greasy and scraggly. His face marked with acne and his eyes sunken into dark circles. He looked like the walking dead. I tried not to say anything. All I said was, "WOW you look really different!"

We had a few drinks with him and then escaped soon after. I knew something wasn't right and I didn't want to be involved. I asked him as we were parting "so...are you ok?" He shrugged, kissed me on the cheek and drove away.

Zach died a year ago August. I heard about it in September but didn't have anyway of getting in touch with someone who would know anything about it. I found a website of a friend of his and called him last night.

He told me that Zach died of an overdose on Heroine. That his ex-girlfriend hadn't given birth to their baby yet when he had died. Apparently it was in some small hotel in Texas (where he's from). There was a small funeral in Texas last year with only a few people.

The friend told me that he has to believe he's in a better place now. He has to believe that Zach wasn't made for this earth as he struggled with demons throughout his stay here. He told me that he lived in Hell on earth and that anything is better than that.

R.I.P. Zach I hope you've found peace and love.