T-minus

Strange...the general consensus according to FB statii is that 2010 was a bad year. I hadn't even given it much thought. That kind of thing, a year in review just kind of sails over my oblivious head. It takes a social networking site to get me to think about something. Sad...oh so sad. I read two articles today about the year in review with regard to medical discoveries and regulatory affairs and that's about it. Only now, almost 3 hours before midnight do I start thinking about my own year in review.

2010... I lost my last living grandfather. That wasn't a good time, obviously. I started working at a new job in the gov't, am now on assignment in a different position, which I really like. I was asked if I was pregnant by 4 or 5 different people...that's always an embarrassing incident that puts a big smile on my face (NOT!!) I've been getting to know my kids' personalities and it's for the most part, pure comedy. I've been blogging rather recently and getting some stuff off my chest. I've made some really good friends via job.

I don't know...I can't say 2010 stunk, but it wasn't a bed of roses either. I hereby declare 2010 to be only slightly mediocre....but then again, what was I expecting?

This?

How about you?

Must you?

I tried writing this post a long time ago and kept it up for a few days but then felt bad in case the people I was talking about read this. I really don't like making other people feel bad. I do on occasion have moments of conscience and stop myself...

Until I recently added yet another narcissist to my friends list. I've officially had enough. Do I un-friend them? Disable my own account? No, I'll barf at their pictures and then blog about it apparently.

I get it, you lose a bunch of weight and obtain (and in some cases, regain) your hottie status. Fine. Take a few pics and we'll marvel at how awesome you look. But holy fucking fuck, we don't need to see a whole album dedicated to your beauty.

This is my standard face. I usually have this face or a goofier version:

I try to leave it at that but I have this stupid webcam built into my laptop. It irritates me. It stares me in the eye constantly. I then make goof shots.
Like this.

God I hate that stupid duck face and sideways peace sign!!!!!

Or this:

THESE people just have to do this:



Yes, please just post the same picture over and over again with different poses. Hell, change your shirt, I don't care. I really want to see that same mug in every flipping picture. Man I hate facebook. I'm just going to hide everyone.

Honestly...if you lost a few pounds or got a new hairdo or had your makeup professionally done, post a pic, I want to see. But I don't want to see your pubic region, your model photos, your standard 'fuck me' face, a thousand photos of you by the xmas tree with the same facial expression, the only thing different are the people placed behind you or placement of gifts.

There. I made you look at me all through this post. omgzzz  Excuse my beauty.

*Cue cheesy Paul McCartney Xmas song that I can't stand*

I’ve never spent Xmas day anywhere other than my parents’ house. When I lived in Toronto I’d always come home for a visit and revel in being babied. My mom and dad are the shit. (That’s a good thing, Mom, if you ever read this). I just love being with my family around the tree. Now the new generation is here and the torch passes…we watch the kids open gifts while we ooh and ahh over household appliances and stuff kids find utterly boring. I remember questioning my parents’ sense of adventure whenever they’d buy each other a Celine Dion cd or Reba McIntyre’s autobiography (I read that one out of boredom when I was 12. You should read it while listening to banjo music, trippy stuff I bet)
Two Xmases ago I was pregnant and I stayed overnight as I knew that that would be the very last time I would stay overnight on Xmas eve at my parents’ place. My mom gave me two teddy bears for the twins (when they were born, obviously). Sometime after they were born I dressed the teddy bears in onesies that the twins wore as newborns and now they sleep cuddled up to them.

I suppose that this Xmas will be a lot of fun for the kids. We got them some pretty fun stuff and I hope that any ‘singing’ toys they get will have a large repertoire because I’m getting a rash from listening to Old MacDonald in different versions on every toy. Play me some of the bands that play on Yo Gabba Gabba. I swear that show was created just for me.

Of the top ten gifts I’ve had for Xmas in my whole life, they are as follows, in no particular order:

1) Purple and pink Popple

2) Meghan, a fuck-ton of My Little Ponies and the singing stage

3) Laptop computer (Wayne went a little overboard)

4) Acoustic guitar

5) Electric guitar

6) Jem and the Hollograms (any doll)

7) Great Shape Barbie (this was my first Barbie. Now they’ve updated it and brought it back. I’m so glad Toy Story 3 had her in that outfit. Now I’ve bought it for Rayna when she’s older. It’ll be HER first Barbie. And so the circle goes…)

8) A really sweet dvd player when the were still pretty new.

9) L7 cds (I wasn’t getting my angst out properly. These cds were a crucial tool in my formative years.)

10) Money has to go on here because I never have any.

Ok maybe that was lame, but I’ve had some pretty spoiled moments. 1, 2, and 6 all happened on the same Xmas. The laptop was probably the craziest one though. I wonder what my kids are going to be into. Anyone remember this doll?  http://www.inthe80s.com/toys/maxidolls0.shtml

May you have a fruitful Xmas, don’t drink too much, you might hit on a relative during the festivities. Be excellent to each other. Love.

Rayna will never have a haircut.

I am not typically your run of the mill girly girl. I had to work on the personality because the looks were very slow coming growing up.  My mother thought it would be a good idea when I was four years old, to cut all my hair off and keep it that way until I had a nervous breakdown. My hair is thick. It is as thick as a piece of rope that they use for the indoor jungle gyms that they use in elementary school gym class. If you keep that kind of hair short, it naturally assumes a troll dolll-variety style and there is absolutely no styling that can be done. It rejects products like mousse or gel. Burden a small child with that haircut before she even starts school is devestating. My mother feels bad, I know this, but she probably won't admit it.

I wasn't even given a chance. On my first day of school I was ostracized by one girl because I looked funny and it filtered down to all the other girls. Thank god I had the other Andrea. She was my one friend through it all. Eventually more came around but it was tough.

Then I was asked on a weekly basis (at the very least) if I was a boy or a girl. Did the dress not tip you off, kid? Eventually I just gave up and assumed the role of tomboy and that was that. I played with He-Man as well as She-Ra, I collected Ninja Turtles, and I played fort games with the boys. But imagine how that fared once I discovered that I had a crush on a boy. Would he want to be the boyfriend of a girl who looked like a boy? Unless he was coming to terms with his own sexuality-probably not- but I digress. I was an ugly duckling and even the grow-out stage of my hair was brutal. I noticed the other girls in my class would get these amazing perms and voila! their hair grew even longer. I figured the secret to growing long hair was to get a perm. My mom shelled out the fifty bucks for this and when they took all the curlers out, instead of luxuriously long tresses magically appearing, Debbie Gibson eat your heart out- I was staring at Joanie from the later episodes of Happy Days...or David Hasselhoff in Night Rider if you want to be a dick about it. Awkward.

I was envious of long hair for literally all of my elementary school years. It really shaped who I was. I had to work extra hard at getting attention in different areas so kids wouldn't focus on how weird I looked. I would blurt out the stupidest things (that hasn't changed) in an effort to divert attention from the fact that I looked like Jonathan Brandis' younger brother. It didn't help that I had an older brother who got off on tormenting me and calling me Tina Turner because I had "biiiiig hair". I even found myself feeling strange for wearing a dress...like I would "out" myself of being female.

Anyway eventually I grew that shit out into one length. Once I achieved that, I grew it until it hung down to my ass. I think I had a point...I had a point...the point is that I can usually tell if someone was pretty when they were in their formative years. Usually if they are bubbly and just the right amount of dumb, I can envision a pretty little girl with hair as long as Rapunzel. When I meet a jaded, cynical yet intelligent individual I have to stop myself from asking if they went through the ugly duckling phase too.

Now be nice...

"I'm sorry ma'am, that particular item is not available at this time. I'm so sorry for any confusion the flyer may have caused"

*woman stares for an excrutiating amount of time, either not believing what you're telling her or in hopes that if she stares long enough you'll produce the item out of your ass*

"If you like, we can call you when it arrives and put one aside"

*cue bitch rant and childish flounce*

Sound familiar?

I'm not the only who feels this way, but I truly think that every person should have a mandatory year working in customer service. Maybe then they'd see reason and treat the clerk/cashier/sales rep/waitress etc. much kinder and stop acting like entitled asswipes.

Seriously, the worst job I ever had was at a grocery store. The town in which I grew up used to be quite sleepy and country-bumpkin like. All of a sudden rich people started sniffing its ass, ripping up the forestry and building cookie cutter box houses faster than I could count. Gone was Stittsville, now it was Fake Tittsville.  I was not only working in my now "pseudo chic, THE place to live, hoity toity Desperate Housewives wannabe" town, but I had to serve the spoiled, useless, poodle-esque lazy ass trophy wives that came with it. It would be 10:30 on a Wednesday and I'd have Leona Helmsley's ugly sister yelling in my face over the price of squash. Did she not have a job? Did she not have anything better to do than to risk her blood pressure over a piece of veg that she would probably only use as a facial mask? I'd often get what I call "The stare" (see above) and it would make me CRAZY. I'd almost prefer blatant, hostile belligerence.  I'm not sure if it was lucky or not that my boss was extremely lenient and let me get away with some of the shit I did but I certainly was not known for taking any kind of crap lying down. I could be as much of a bitch right back. Hmm really...I do think tomatoes belong at the bottom of a bag of cans.

But "the stare"...I got that one everywhere I worked in the service  capacity. At the insurance company I worked at, someone thought it would be a good idea to have a walk-in service where insured members could get their money 'on the spot'. Oh yeah, great idea... "I'm sorry but your "device" to make your vagina tighter isn't covered by your plan." *cue stare* Seriously, why do people do that? While she stares, I imagine she's trying to remember the words to the theme song for The Facts of Life, she just looks so idiotic. I stare back. She finally cracks. "Why not?" (Really??)  "Umm...because Kegels don't cost anything?" She stares again. I stare back. She then starts getting really snotty and it takes everything in my power to refrain from laughing after she starts in on threatening to 'go public' about it. Yes, tell the Public Citizen about how your insurance company won't pay for your vag tightener. Just because your shyster physiotherapist recommended it, it doesn't mean it's covered.

And that's just a taste of the treasures I've met in my customer service travels. And now I see it when I myself am a customer. I guess the former cashier/waitress/insurance assessor in me just has to come to the rescue at times and I find myself saying to the woman frothing at the mouth because her card was rejected that she needs to stop and that she's being ridiculous. (I'm going to get shot someday).

To the point, I realize things are crazy during Xmas. Lines are huge, stores are understaffed in some places, parking is scarce. Understandably tempers are running high. Please remember that the person serving you is a human being with feelings and while you may be frustrated, it's probably not their fault. (Of course there are assholes, I was one of them). Keep your cool, be an adult, don't be a spoiled bitch, accept that some things are not possible and the customer is 99% of the time WRONG. You will find that the nicer you are, the further they will go to help you. Manners go a long way.

That said, I no longer work in customer service, I feel that I did my time but I will never forget where I came from, what I went through and how ignorant and childish "the stare" is. I'm almost over-nice to my server but that would be better than acting like an immature idiot. Stay classy, folks. Merry ho ho!

Sit on your hands, think happy thoughts and shut your fucking mouth

So I realize that the posts are becoming more and more sporadic...and that's ok, it means that nothing's really pissed me off lately but there are times when a build-up is established and I HAVE to spill it.

Let's discuss impulse control.

I can't quite say whether or not I have any but I can definitely realize when other people require it. You meet someone in a wheelchair and within ten seconds of meeting you potentially blurt out "What happened to you?" You see someone you work with talking to someone else and their gaze barely glances at you. You potentially go apeshit and fire off a nasty email assuming they were talking about you. Or you're like me and you can't keep the dick and fart jokes to yourself and only too late realize who is actually in on the conversation.

Facebook is the WORST for impulse control. Oh hello there, narcissist. I just wrote something really nasty in your 600th picture of your new haircut and then erased it before pressing enter. Oh hello, born again Christian, I was just going to post a TED Talks on atheism on your site just to be an asshole...but I didn't.

And impulsively my significant other just joked along with whatever video he's watching on spikedhumor.com...and quite loudly.

This post is mediocre...and I'm fighting the impulse to delete it.