Sunday, June 27, 2004

Psychic and weirdo mumbo jumbo

I've had the same best friend since kindergarten. She married my brother's best friend, and my brother married our good friend. Our other two good friends married my best friend's husband's good friends...Yes, we have a ton of friend inbreeding in our group.

Said best friend and I went to see a psychic when we were like 23. He was this little troll like little man that had his eyes closed and rocked back and forth in his chair. He had an assistant that ushered you into the room, and told him you were there.

You didn't speak, and the room smelled of funny incense. He would just ramble out different things about your past, present, and future. It was eerily exciting, even though we were both skeptics. Our friends thought we were nuts for going in the first place.

Something rather amazing came out of this whole experience, and it was rather unexpected. The man began talking about what good friends we were, and how we had been great friends since we were small. He spoke of my brother, her husband, and the others in our group. He talked about how in a past life we had died a horrible death together, but that we clung to each other and fought it the whole time.

I believe we starved to death or something. Great potato famine or something or other...He spoke of how close we are even though we are tremendously different, and that through it all, we will always remain friends.

He hit it on the head exactly. My brother, the conservative who loves money, my best friend, the sweetheart with the heart of gold, her husband, the bolsterious comic, my sister-in-law, the naive farmgirl, me, the independent commitment phobe....It was all rather jaw dropping, considering we weren't allowed to say a word.

If you are good with math and keeping count, there are 9 of us total who have been the best of friends since childhood, even though we are incredibly different. A few came later in our teens, like my sis-in-law. She moved by us from a small farm town her senior year of high school.

We range from stay at home mom's to small business owners. We have a mechanic, secretary, lawyer, car salesman and IT engineer in our midst. Many might ask what a lawyer and a secretary might have in common, and most would say not much. Somehow we have managed to stay good friends all this time, despite different life paths and lifestyles. They are truly the people I know I can turn to with anything, and they will be loyal to me to the very end.

So was this man the real deal? He told us we would be friends our entire life. Most people I know don't keep friends for more then a decade, and many of these people have been my friend for 25+ years. I've had many other friends come and go through my life, but they are my constant.

I don't know if this guy knew what he was talking about or not, and I'm not sure if I even believe in this kind of thing. The only thing I know is he was right about these people, my friends, that I still cling to when I am starving to death.

Saturday, June 26, 2004

What FFS means

If you are offended by potty language, I'll have to ask you to leave. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.

FFS means "for fuck's sake." I work in a total diversified, politically correct, tolerant, harassment-free environment, which came about after a couple of major lawsuits against the Mother Ship.

The couple of us rebels still have our ways of being politically incorrect, and FFS is one of them. It drives many people nuts when we say it, because they don't know what it means. Another of our gems is Canadians. This is what we use when we want to call someone an idiot.

*Disclaimer* Canadians are not idiots, and I am rather fond of most of the Canadians I know. The code word for idiots came about after one particular frustrating day (I work in IT so I deal with some real winners), and involved a lot of tequila.

We were sitting around trying to come up with a word to mean idiots, and this guy in the bar yelled "Damn Canadians!!!" at the TV (hockey was on I think? It's kinda a blur), so Canadians was the logical choice. It was like an act of God I tell ya.

A little about me...

I thought maybe I should fill you (if anyone reads this) in a little about myself. I have abandoned blogs around the Internet, and since I am starting over yet again I should probably give a little insite into this brain 'o mine.

I'm 33 years old, but I still get carded. I will probably have a mental breakdown the day I actually look my age. Ok, mental breakdown might be a bit on the dramatic side, but needless to say I won't be very happy about it.

I grew up in a household that was a lot like the Army. My parents broke you down only to build you up in an image that they created. Of course I thought my parents were the most Evile people on the planet, but now I thank God everyday for them.

I'm 5'8 and what society deems pleasantly attractive. My weight varies depending on how much I am working. Right now I have been working at least 12 hours a day, so I am pushing the chubby side. Damn McDonald's to hell. Chubby or skinny, I have curvy-curves, mostly in all the right places.

I prefer being chubby, but I'm borderline diabetic (meaning my fat ass doesn't handle sugar as well as my skinny ass) so I try not to be chubby. I spent a good portion of my early years chubby, so I feel more comfortable that way. It's my assumption that I may well be the only female in history to feel this way.

If there is such a thing as Adult ADD, I have it. I bounce from one interest to another. Knitting was all I could do for awhile there, until it became cool for the whole universe to do it. I also became pretty good at ceramics, web design, animation, basket weaving, yoga, car repair, stained glass, databases, baking, painting, craps, decorating, plumbing, and swing dancing in my lifetime.

Trying new things is a rush for me. Notice I said I am "pretty good" at the above things. Jack of all trades, master of none is a phrase invented for me. Human nature states people hate change, yet I thrive on it. Once I get "pretty good" at something I get bored and look to the next challenge. This sounds a bit exhausting to most, but it has made me one hell of a player at Trival Pursuit.

The one constant in my life has been writing. I wrote my first book when I was 4, and it was titled "My Dog Sam." Much to my disappointment it didn't make it on the best seller's list. I've written for local entertainment rags, a couple of freelance mag articles, tons of journals, a couple of half finshed scripts, and many lonely, abandoned blogs.

I have many friends that I've had since early childhood, and I'll tell you about them one day. These are people that would not only take a bullet for me, but they'd haunt the bastard for trying to shoot me after they died. I am truly blessed to have them in my life. Loyalty and honesty is everything to me. Blame the midwestern upbringing, if you will.

The men in my life is a book in itself. I've never been one of those little girls who imagined meeting Prince Charming and living happily ever after. Sometimes I think I am happier by myself, much to the chargin of many people who care about me. I hate feeling confined. If I ever meet someone as independent as myself I'm sure I'd be ok in the relationship department, but Prince I'll-let-you-do-your-own-thing-and-you'll-let-me-do-mine hasn't come riding up on his horse as of yet.

So that's a little about me. Basically I'm a 33 year old woman with ADD and commitment problems. I'm pretty goofy too....


I keep waiting for it. The backlash. It has to happen soon. In this society we love to build people up almost as much as we love ripping them down.

I'm so tired of the glossy magazines with wide eyed women in millions of dollars worth of diamonds and thousands of dollars worth of botox staring at me. One more show where a woman is taken away from her family to blossom (with the help of muliple plastic surgeons), and I'll probably go blind. I don't think I'll ever be able to visit France because if I hear the P-a-r-i-s word one more time I'll vomit.

Sheesh what has happened to us? Do you remember when musicians would have been embarrassed to be in a commercial? When actresses looked like actresses instead of models? When writers wrote shows instead of everyday people jumping at the chance to humilate theirselves on TV?

Maybe I'm showing my age here, but I miss those times. Don't get me wrong, I can be as materialist as the next person. A child of the 80's I certainly am, young jedi, but my God enough is enough.

Sunday, June 13, 2004

A blogger this way comes...

I've tried a couple of these blogger type sites, and I heard this one is pretty decent. I've been traveling through different free blogger type sites for a couple of years, and I always tend to get bored with them and move on to a new home. This place looks like I can edit the code and junk like that, so maybe I'll take up roots here for a bit.

I guess I should start by telling you a little about myself. I'm just into my third decade on this Earth. Growing up I looked more like Natalie from The Facts of Life then Blair. By the time I hit my late teens something funny called puberty happened and turned me into someone that Blair would envy.

This came as quite a surprise to me, as I had spent 18 or 19 years (yeah, I hit puberty waaay late) as the loyal friend, faithful daughter, and all around fun person. People began treating me quite different, and I didn't quite understand it.

I was classified as a "gifted" child when I was around 4, and that set the stage for the rest of my life. My parents were totally against any grade skipping or anything of that nature, because they thought my social development was far more important. I thank the powers that be for my parents everyday, because my social skills have far advanced me in every area in my life then finishing High School years early ever could.

My parents insisted I go to college close to home for my Freshman year. I thought this was the biggest bunch of bullshit I had ever heard, but begrudginly I listened. I was a later in life child, and I had a brother and sister that were 4 and 8 years older then myself.

I ended up getting off the college track when my older sister divorced her no good, woman beating husband. She had three kids under four years old at the time. He wouldn't give her a cent. My parents couldn't know about the awful situation because A.) My Father would be in jail now for murder, and B.) They would have to postpone their long awaited retirement to help take care of my sister and her children.

I took a job in an automobile factory building cars. You have to understand that I was a real girly-girl type, and when I learned I would have to OMG get dirty it really freaked me out. I did it though, and I put my older sister through college and paid her bills.

I would come home from work so tired sometimes that I could not get out of my car. My whole body ached, and in the morning I would have to thrust my hands into hot water just to get them to move. By the time my sister was back on her feet, college was a distant memory, and I had a vested retirement.

I was 24 and stuck. Union people make very good money. I could make more in a summer then what I would make in my chosen profession (teaching), and I was addicted to that money, especially once I could spend it on myself and not school tuition, Santa Claus, bicyles....You get the picture. Kids are damn expensive.

My parents had migrated to warmer climates, and to this day think I was being a rebellious child by not staying in school. I did try at first, but would usually end up asleep in my classes. You just cannot image assembly line work unless you have done it. I did end up finishing my degree and getting a mucho better job with the automobile company, but I was still stuck. I really, really hate that.

Some people think I'm a saint or something for doing that, which is really sad if you think about it. If someone told me they did that, I would just think it was the right thing to do.