Monday, December 27, 2010

Debbie Downer At Your Service

The other day I was on Facebook and was using this "My Year in Status" application. I thought to myself "Hey self , it would be fun to see how this application summarizes your year in statuses, perhaps we should check that out." So I allowed the application access and it whipped up a summary of my year via my status messages and the outcome was somewhat alarming. On the positive side I'm completely in love with my fiance. Additionally I amuse myself regularly with some of my statuses based on my worldly observations. On the not so positive side I really dislike my current state of affairs at the paycheck place. This was noted not once or twice or even 20 times, but like 50+ times throughout the year.

If you take into account there are only 52 weeks out of the year, with 5 working days a week, 15 vacation days (yes I've only taken 15 days off even though I have 20), 10 holidays, and 2 sick days (yes I also have unlimited sick leave and I've only taken 2 full sick days), that leaves you with 233 days to complain about my job. But I have to add in the weekends that I worked (6 weekends = +12 days) and we are back at 245 days to complain. If we conservatively say that I've complained about 50 of those, that's only a 20% unhappiness rate. That seems reasonable right? Apparently not.

This morning I woke up at 8:30. I should have left the house for work 30 minutes prior. I showered, got dressed, and sat on my stairs (it was 9:12am at this point). Then I cried. I poured my coffee, fixed my lunch, got in my car and started driving. Only to get to the 495 exit and make a u-turn. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go there. I started crying again. But can't out my finger on why. I'm sitting here working from home (well I mean shut up yes I'm blogging, but I just finished creating a technical requirements document that I spent 3 hours on and that's torture enough, believe me) and I'm completely fine. I'm not stressed out. I'm not feeling overwhelmed. I mean this might be due to the fact that in response to every email I send, I receive an out of office message. So there isn't a soul to throw me into my usual 11am - 4pm tizzy. But still, the minute I knew I was going home to work (thanks to Coal Miner's text message suggestion, love you babe) I was fine. I was relaxed. I was calm. I was fine. So why am I still so uneasy.

Let's be real, this isn't a new thing with me. Its been going on for years. I have a total love/hate relationship with my paycheck place. Yes I get rewarded for my performance, but just a week ago they sent us an email telling us no raises, no bonuses this year. Never mind the fact that yet again this year I received the highest rating an employee can receive. but will I be rewarded for that? Not this year, so what's the point? I'm the only person working my tail off. Everyone else is on vacation. But not me.

I was asked to work, to make sure I got everything done over the holidays. And I said yes. I went along with it. Why? What makes me so unable to ensure my own happiness over other people's objectives. I know, I know, I should be happy to have a job, I get paid really well, blah blah blah, says the people who are currently not working and enjoyed the holidays with their family. But for once I'd like to really take some time off. Not spend my time traveling somewhere to make time for people who don't make time for me. Relax, instead of spending my time in a car/airport stressing over arrivals/departures/etc. Disconnect instead of picking up my blackberry to read through the 90 emails I get within a 5 hour period so I'm not spending hours upon hours sorting through them when I return. Stop bitching. I just need to stop bitching. I'm annoying myself with the constant bitching. Just shut the eff up Megan and do something about it, right? Right. Now, what do I do?

I just posted about this, whats going to make me happy? Is it going back to consulting? Maybe. Is it moving out of this concrete jungle? Maybe. Is it embracing what I have and living for the moment instead of self-inflicting stress on myself and worrying about things I have no control over? Probably. Or is it simply just crying uncle? Do I finally just need to tell everyone at work I can't"? I just can't do this anymore. I'm exhausted. I'm always exhausted. My brain never stops. From the minute I wake up until the time I go to bed I'm systematically devising a plan for some piece of some project at work. It never stops. And its exhausting.

Someone told me on Facebook I should make it my New Year's resolution to be a little happier in my status messages. That crushed me. I'm a generally happy gal. Or at least I thought I was...*pondering* Perhaps my New Year's resolution will be to end this cycle with the paycheck place. Not like I have put that on the list before. insert heavy sigh But maybe this year will be different.

Sorry to be Debbie Downer peeps, that was never my intention. I shouldn't have used Facebook in that manner. I shouldn't have brought you guys down with me. I really hate that it happened. But rest assured I'm going to change that, I promise you. And in the spirit of change I hope you had a wonderful Christmas. Make sure you toast to an amazing 2011, its going to be a year full of change and happiness for all.

Friday, December 3, 2010

WHAM Did Tell Me: That's what you get

I was recently promoted at work. I have a whole team working for me now. I report up to a Director who reports directly into the SVP. I talk to the SVP daily. I'm moving up the food chain. I've been doing it for years. It's the reason I've spent so many hours at my desk, after they turn the ac/heat off at night, and I'm the last car in the garage. It's what I wanted. So why now, after I'm getting what I want, do I not want it anymore. I find myself most mornings longing to stay home, go for a run, pick up the house, and fix dinner for Coal Miner. Am I having the 5 year itch at work? Am I starting to realize perhaps being the SVP isn't exactly what I thought it would be?

Don't get me wrong, I like the fact that I've made a name for myself. I've built a little empire, all by myself, without any advocates at work. I ensured that I attended the right meetings with the "big guns", I went to those Happy Hours, I was adamant about my promotion, my ability to run a team and manage a multi-million dollar project at the same time. I was and am a superstar at work. I know it, everyone else knows it as well, its not a secret. So what's going on? What happened? Am I burnt out at the age of 30? That can't be. I'm too young for that. Have my priorities changed? Or am I just trying to do too much? I've come to the conclusion its the later.

Most days I find myself sitting at my desk, head swirling, thinking "how on earth am I going to get all of this done?" I need to ask for help. I need to start delegating. I need to slow down. I'm doing way too much, way too fast, and putting unrealistic deadlines on myself. Why do I need to be a VP by 40? Seriously, why? What does that prove? Why do I "need" that title? Yes, I get it, I want to be important. Hell my whole generation wants the same thing. We were brought up to believe that you need titles, cars, houses, things, etc. to be important. But what if I just want a simpler life. I like nice things, but I don't need them to be happy. I like money, but...I can't say what I just said about money. I don't know that I need it to be happy, but I do know that I need it to feel okay.

I grew up watching my parents live paycheck to paycheck. Wanting more than what they had. Juggling which bills to pay to ensure that our electricity stayed on and we could still charge groceries to the credit card. They refinanced their house multiple times. My mother worked two to three jobs at a time. She was exhausted. She was never around. Neither was my dad. And it wasn't their fault. They came to what they could, they were home when they were needed, they were always there when I needed them. It didn't take anything away from my parent's parenting skills or my childhood. It was an amazing childhood (almost storybook if you don't count what I just told you). BUT, I don't want that for myself. I don't want that for my family. I don't want my little girls (if I have them) to have a memory of me sitting at the kitchen table crying trying to figure out when the last possible moment is to pay this bill or that bill. Or hear me say to my mom on the phone "We are in the red again." They didn't think we knew. We did. So, after psychoanalyzing the shit out of myself, I know why I "need" money. I know why it makes me feel safe. And I know why I feel like I have to die trying to earn as much of it as possible. But still, I long for a simpler life. I long for a slower life. I long to enjoy my days, each of them, instead of wishing them away. I yearn for less traffic and more "us" time. I just need to find a way to feel safe and at ease. Got any grand ideas?

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Oh For the Love of....

I got engaged. Did I mention that? Yea, Coal Miner asked me to marry him b/c well, he's rad. And also, who wouldn't want to marry me? I'm pretty much the most awesome person I know. Anyhoooo, we really want to get married October 1 of next year. That would be one year, to the day, of our engayyygment. So we are sentimental, whatever. Well apparently everyone else in Northern Virginia and DC seems to think that would be a great day to get married as well. They also seem to think that all weekends in September and October are great months to get married. Leaving us with the option of blazing ass August or shivering November. This shit is unbelievable. We went to a plantation to scout out the scene and the on-site coordinator told me that chicks come in there before they are even engaged to leave a deposit for the site. DO WHAT? How you gonna reserve a weekend to get married and you aren't even engaged yet? Youz a crazy bitch, that's how. She also told me that chicks plan weddings 2 years in advance. 2 years? Are you serious? I don't want to be stressed out or planning this for 2 years. Quite honestly I barely have time to plan this wedding, I can't imagine spending two years on it. Which provides a nice segue for my next topic: This shit is expensive.

Did you know the average wedding in the metro DC area runs a bride around $35K. DOOOO WHAT? I'm fresh out of 35K extra dollars laying around. If I did have $35k just laying around I would make it rain on the reg. However, neither I nor my parents have said $35K, so I need to be on a budget. Apparently people like to charge you money just to use the site itself. They have no plans to contribute anything to your wedding, just stepping foot on the property. Then they like to charge you money to come setup prior to 2 hours before your ceremony. I mean who needs more than 2 hours to setup?!?! EVERYONE! This is a freakin' racket. I'm totally in the wrong business. Wedding planner = $8K, Transportation = $3K, Venue = $9K, Food = $7k, Photographer = $7K. I haven't even bought the dress yet and I've already exceeded my credit limit on my Visa. I had to cut the wedding planner and figure out a way to plan this wedding during my normal business hours (of a gazillion hours a week) and free time (of 0). So this should be interesting. I would stay tuned to the blog b/c I'm absolutely certain I'm going to do one or more of the following in the next 11 months:
A) Freak the eff out
B) Have a breakdown
C) Cry and whine and cry some more
D) Decide this was the worst idea ever

Wish me luck, I'm going on Sunday to check out another venue. Maybe this bish won't charge me a triplezillion dollars just to step my jimmy choos on the green lawn.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

$90 for WHAT? You MUST Be Crazy!

I bought a townhouse in June, if you didn't know that already. Coal Miner moved in with me, if you didn't know that already. What you may not know, is that he brought his dog Casey (a German Shepherd) with him. I love dogs. I do. But we disagree on whether or not dogs belong inside the house. This dog lives in our house. She is an 'inside dog' as CM likes to call her. Even though she weighs a gazillon pounds and is an alpha female (read bitch). She sheds like crazy. It upsets me b/c I'm a clean freak. Which leads us to our discussion today: My Cleaning Lady.

Due to the sheer mass of said dog hair I could not for the life of me not hire someone to clean the three levels of our home. Mostly b/c homegurl (that's me) was not interested in spending copious amounts of time dragging a vacuum up and down three flights of stairs multiple times a week. So I've enlisted the services of a cleaning lady (whom CM's mother has been using for years) to assist in this cleaning frenzy. Maria, yes that really is her name, comes every two weeks. CM also calls her "Little Mexico" which is just really racist but also very funny at the same time. Maria really doesn't speak/understand English very well. But funny enough she speaks/understands English perfectly when it comes to money. Funny how that works huh? Anyway, her first visit was phenomenal. I walked in the front door and it was like a bottle of Fabuloso! had vomited everywhere. Bottom line, I was in heaven. But ever since that first visit we've had a series of episodes with Maria. She means well but she's just lazy. I mean lazy. Or maybe she's just forgetful, I don't know. Let me start our journey into the joys of my cleaning lady (and her various cousins, nieces, aunts, parents, grandparents, that she brings along to assist).

Second Visit: Maria arrives with her niece, who is probably as old as me and Maria is probably not a day older than 40, 15 minutes early. Let's please also mention that her niece has the biggest camel toe I have ever seen. This visit happens to land on my birthday. So she arrives at 6:30 as opposed to 6:45. Whatevs, she's excited about getting started. I mean who could blame her?!?! Cleaning my house has to be the highlight of most anyone's day. So I leave, come home, only to find that I'm locked out of my own house. Oh yes, Maria has locked the bottom lock. CM showed her 3 times, count it 3, how to lock the front door and specifically said 3 times, count it 3, not to lock the bottom lock. She did it anyway. Awesome. So I call a locksmith b/c neither CM or I have keys to the bottom lock with us, or can get past the 2x4 that's blocking our basement door from intruders (or just me trying to go pee while waiting for the locksmith). So I sit outside for 40 minutes, in a suit, in 102 degree weather waiting for the locksmith to arrive, on my 30th birthday. 1 hour and $195 later I enter my freshly cleaned home only to find that she hasn't wiped down the refrigerator or vacuumed the rug in the living room AND COST ME AN EXTRA $195, plus the $90 I paid her this morning. BEYOND PISSED. But I'm going to let that go, it was an honest mistake. I'll just make sure she does the proper cleaning next time.

Third Visit: Maria arrives at 6:45 with her grandmother in tow. Her grandmother is probably 80 years old. She promptly informs me that grandma will only be taking care of the main level b/c she "can't do the stairs Miss Megan, she's old (said a little too enthusiastically)". That's cool - I don't care if she only takes care of the half bath, kitchen, dining room, hardwood floors, and living room if she does a good job. That's a lot of work. I come home to find that the lamps in the master bath have not been dusted, they've blown a circuit and not bothered to reset it, they've chipped the wall where we've recently painted, the dishes in the dishwasher are not washed, the table in the dining room hasn't even been wiped down, and again the rug. What's with the rug Maria? I mean I specifically said, very nicely might I add, "Hey Maria - don't forget to vacuum this rug okay?" To which she replied "Oh yes Miss Megan, Grandma will get it." Fail. I'd also like to note that my neighbor told me they left about 30 minutes after I did. Tell me how in the world she cleaned that whole house in 45 minutes? Anyone? Anyone?

Fourth Visit: Maria arrives 30 minutes late, with her niece who still has that camel toe, in tow. She asks me why I'm up so early and leaving the house so early. Ummm I have a job. Maybe she didn't notice the last three times that I leave promptly at the same time every single day. Oh well I just smile and tell her I've gotta get to work. But I'm stunned b/c her niece is bending over and I don't understand why she has a camel toe and I can see her butt crack. How is that comfortable while you are cleaning my bathtub? I mean wouldn't that really chafe you? Maybe that isn't my expertise and I should just mind my business but I really want to walk over to her and pull those out of her hoo-hah. Its like a yeast infection just waiting to happen. So I'm staring and then I shake my head and then I smile a toothless smile and then I leave. I come home to find the house smelling delicious and I think that we are back to where we started. *insert long audible sigh* I was wrong. The basement. Someone clearly forgot about the basement. WHYYYYY MARIA WHHHYYYY?

*End of visits thus far*

Don't worry my friends, I have a plan. I've typed up a note to give to Maria in both English and Spanish (thanks Google Translate!!). I've let her know what a fantastic job she's been doing and how she is relieving sooo much stress in my life (that's a lie, I'm type A, she's actually causing me stress), and we are just so thrilled she's agreed to help us out (technically I'm paying her $90 to clean 1900 square feet so she isn't really helping out, but technicalities, technicalities). I include just some small items I've noticed that could use a little extra attention. I again reinforce what a great job she's doing. I print it out and put it on the counter last night along with her check for her visit this morning. I'm feeling very satisfied. No way she can miss a beat this time. My cell phone rings:

Me: This is Megan.
Maria: Hi Miss Megan, its Maria.
Me: Hey Maria! What's up?
Maria: I suppose to come tomorrow right?
Me: Yep, 6:45.
Maria: I forget I need to go to Doctors.
Me: Okay no biggie you can come after - I'll give you the key code.
Maria: Yea I'd like to come Thursday, Friday, or maybe next week.
Me: You can come Thursday or Friday, that's cool.
Maria: Or Wednesday, today Monday right?
Me: Yea definitely, any of those work.
Maria: Okay I call you.
Me: Okay just give me a call, when do you think you'll be able to come?
Maria: I no know, I call you.
Me: Ummm okay. No worries, good luck at the doctors tomorrow.
Maria: What doctors?
Me: Uh, I thought you said you have to go to the doctors tomorrow.
Maria: Oh yess yessss doctors. Have nice nite Miss Megan.
Me: You too Maria.

Okay so she's totally lying right? I don't even care that she didn't want to come today. Just tell me you want to make it another day. But next week. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY! I have a small creature of fur growing in my house, please save me Maria. PPLLLLLEEEEEAAAASSSSEEEE. That bish better call or I'm folding and calling Molly least they're insured and will reimburse me if they lock me out of my own house. SMDH.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

I Don't Usually Do This, But...

I'm here to discuss something very important. Its a subject that is near and dear to me. Its personal. Its important. Its no laughing matter, that's for sure. Its my hair. Its turning gray. Now for those of you who just gasped and said "it couldn't be! you are too young for that!" you are correct, I am. I'm very young. I'm barely legal. I find myself looking in the mirror on a daily basis and thinking to myself "you are one hot young thang lady." And then I see my hair. I shake my head in disbelief and I continue on with my day. With that nagging notion in the back of my mind, tearing at my heart strings. How in the hell am I going gray?

Seriously, this is a serious question. At what age did you start going gray? Because my mother started going gray at the age of 40'something. That's bullshit. I haven't even had a child yet. I'm not even married yet. I swear to the heavens above it is THIS JOB that is making me go gray. Is that even possible? That a job and stress can make you go gray? I'm looking for someone or something to blame b/c homegurl ain't happy about the recent set of events. Let me lay this out for you.

I notice about 2 months ago that I had some gray hair. No biggie maybe a few strands, I can deal with that right? But mostly it was really blonde hair that I was seeing. It was summer, the sun bleaches me out every year, whatevs, Nothing to get all worked up about. Then about a month ago I noticed that it might be possible that those reaaaaallly blonde hairs were in fact gray. So I peered into the mirror one sunny morning and pulled one (read 10+) out just to check, and double check, and triple check. They were in fact...gray. Hmmm that's weird. But still, not terrible. Then it happened. About a week ago, Coal Miner says to me "Baby, you've got A LOT of gray hair. When are you going to call Cornholio (my stylist) to get fix that?"
Yea that's me pausing and preventing myself from launching across the the front seat of the car to rip Coal Miner's jugular out. I respond so pleasantly HE'S IN FUCKING LONDON OKAY? YOU THINK I HAVEN'T NOTICED MY GRAY HAIR? SIT AND SPIN ASSHOLE!

This morning, this morning was bad *shaking my head*. I looked in the mirror and it is quite possible that the entire portion of my non-bleached roots are going gray. I really don't know what to do, besides the obvious which is dye dye dye (I sound like the Republicans "Drill drill drill"). I just can't come to grips with this...its to early...its to soon...its not right...its...its...the end of an era. Gone are the days of dying my hair for fun, and just b/c I could. Here are the days of dying my hair to cover my gray. What a sad, sad day indeed. Screw you aging, you suck serious donkey nuts. *as I flip my hair to one side hoping no one sees that tinge of gray in my side part*

Monday, August 23, 2010

I'm Too Tired for Funny Headlines

I'm not sure what is going on lately, but I'm having bad dreams nightly. And I'm not just talking about "oh it was so sad, blah blah happened." I'm talking "there was a Tiger chasing me and it was after everyone." Or how about the other night when I woke up and said "I was hiding in a washing machine, from this guy who was chasing me. When he found me in the washing machine, I stabbed him the neck with a black ink pen. He died. I was happy. And it was a front load washer, that's how I fit in it." WHAT THE WHAT? I don't know what my deal is, but I'm over it. I'm not getting good sleep. I'm waking up either terrified or pissed off (I was pretty pissed about the Tiger/Lion whatever it was trying to eat me. I was pissed that the situation would even occur.) which leads me to start my morning terrified and/or pissed off, which leads me to be irritated that I'm terrified and/or pissed off b/c of my stupid dreams.

As you can see none of this makes for the good start to the day. I also can't seem to sleep through the night without waking up once or twice. Not for any particular reason other than the fact that the dog keeps going all "Paranormal Activity" on me and shit. For the past month this bih has been waking up, staring at me, walking to the door, staring down the stairs, looking back at me, going to the top of the stairs, staring down stairs, then sitting right next to me on the floor at attention (she's a German Shepard, visualize please). So I'm fairly certain my dog is seeing something downstairs, or at least hearing something. JESUS. H. CHRIST can I please not have a haunted house? I just ignore her and the entire situation, and act like I'm still sleeping, b/c I watch A&E and they tell you not to engage with the spirits unless you are ready to head down that path. Who will never be ready to head down that path? THIS GIRL! So I tell my coworker about this and she says "Have you gone downstairs to see what it is?" To which I respond "FUCK NO!" What is wrong with this chick? Why don't you rephrase that to "Have you gone downstairs to be murdered? Or better yet to check out some demon making himself some dinner?" Ain't no way I'm going to check out what that dog sees. That's between the dog and the demon.

While discussing sleeping, I want my pillow back. Coal Miner stole my pillow about two months ago. I was out of town, and when I came back into town my pillow was on his side of the bed. My pillow is rad. Its a tempurpedic foam pillow. Its like sleeping on an angel's wing all night. Coal Miner found this secret gem, I had been keeping to myself, one evening while I was gallivanting around the United States trying to save people from going into foreclosure and has refused to give it back since. He told me he was going to buy me another one. Does it sound like he has made said purchase yet? Yea, that would be a no. So I want my pillow back and I want it back now. The thanks I get for trying to save all of the US's delinquent homeowners from losing their houses...SMH.

So anyway, I've posted about my dreams before b/c I'm a vivid dreamer. But lately they've been really bad. I'm sick of waking up feeling like I either want to punch the air, not in delight, or hide in a closet like the kid from "Sixth Sense." I'm so whiny today. Did you notice. I'm actually annoying myself. Ewwww! If I read this post I would want to stick me in a corner for a time out. These damn dreams are making my life a living hell. Someone please tell me how to stop the bad dreams. PRETTY PLEASE?!?!?!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Birthday Treats

Yep, it was my birthday last Tuesday, the big 3-Oh. But don't worry, I'm all going 29 v2.0 on people's tail and plan on doing that for a while. Nah, just kidding. I could care less that I turned 30. I'm embracing the ole 30's. For serious, my 20's kind of sucked the big one (besides meeting Coal Miner) so I'm looking forward to what my 30's will hold. I just bought a house, Coal Miner moved in, we are supposedly getting hitched (read, where is my ring bih?!?!?!), so it should definitely be interesting.

As a side note, Coal Miner threw me two, read that 2!, surprise parties. One HH w/all of my DC peeps and then one dinner with all of my 757 peeps. Best of both worlds, can't complain!

Pic from the HH - he's the best...

Which leads us to Coal Miner's birthday in October. He will also be the big 3-0 and will no longer be able to call me "an old hag", the f'er. Last night while laying in bed, drifting off to sleep, he says "I know what I want for my birthday." I really don't care b/c I already know what I'm going to get him so I entertain him and ask "Oh yea? So what do you want Birthday Boy?" And he says, with gusto, "a hole in one!" I laugh and let him know that just b/c he has been drinking his face off at Top Golf recently I find it highly unlikely that he will be getting a hole in one anytime soon. He laughs and says "No you old hag. I mean I want to do it in the butt."

I flip on the light, sit straight up in bed, and exclaim "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?" all in a matter of seconds.

I know, I know I shouldn't be discussing this with you. But I mean seriously now. Who says that at 11:26pm, on a Monday, when I'm trying to get myself to sleep before I need to wake up 6 hours later to go to work? Could we have saved this for a discussion over a glass or 4 of wine? Apparently not, apparently he wanted to discuss it right at that moment. He also didn't seem to find anything wrong with what he had just asked either. He didn't seem to think I should bat an eyelash at such a request.

Back when I was 23 I probably wouldn't have. No I'm serious. I probably would have been like "Awesome. Hope you have some good lube." Maybe I am turning into an old hag. But I just don't know that I want his pein shoved in my tail pipe. Again, shouldn't be sharing, but homeboy ain't small. This could possibly lead to a very painful and damaging experience. I'm sharing too much, I realize this, but hell you guys love the sharing, I know you do. I figure Coal Miner and our sexual endeavors should probably be off limits right? Yea, yea, just don't share with him that I told you okay?

Anyway, I neither said yes or no last night. I just laughed it off after my immediate outburst. But I then laid in bed awake thinking "October 16, you need to just hold off for a little bit. Okay friend?"

Thursday, August 12, 2010


So Coal Miner purchased a home with his ex a few years back. Said home was purchased with her $25K down from a condo she bought with her previous ex (yep I said that snarky). They then entered into an IO (aka Interest Only) loan on their first trust, and a 10/1 ARM on their second. For those of you who aren't familiar with mortgage loans and what that means, let me break it down for you. THEY STILL OWE EVERYTHING THEY BORROWED. And when the ARM kicks in 6 short years, they will probably have a 15% interest rate instead of the 6.5% they currently have.

Problem No. 1 - The house is worth almost $100K less than what they paid for it originally.

Problem No. 2 - The slunt refuses to sell the house and take a cash hit due to the fact that she hasn't saved a dime of money over the past four years even though Coal Miner has given her a portion of his tax return yearly (to the tune of $4k - $5K) and she has renters living in the house covering the other portion of the mortgage.

Problem No. 3 - The slunt refuses to refi Coal Miner out of the loan b/c she doesn't "want the house either. You aren't getting out of this if I'm not getting out of it. " said all bitchy and condescending

Problem No. 4 - The slunt is in complete and utter denial. She thinks that they will definitely recoup the money from the house, and she will even go as far to say that she believes she will be able to make a profit. "I mean the housing market up here is totally on the up tick. I think we are about to see 2006 prices again!" yes...that is a direct quote

Problem No. 5 - The slunt may not be the sharpest tool in the shed. And I'm not just saying this b/c she is his ex. She really isn't a smart girl. She works for essentially the same mortgage giant that I do (she works for our "little brother" company) and knows nothing about the current housing market, interest rates, how credit works, new legislation around housing programs, government sponsored housing programs, etc. She's a Senior Financial Analyst for God's sake. What exactly are you analyzing over there sista friend?

Problem No. 6 - The slunt has no idea what she wants to do with her life or the house for that matter. Last time Coal Miner was over there (with the appraiser I arranged) she told Coal Miner that she was going to use her pension to live off of, while she went to Nursing School, and trained to be a Firefighter, in Costa Rica. *I'm actually laughing right now as I type that* Does that sound like a sane person to you? Who even says that? You can't start extracting from your pension at 31 years old, let alone live in Costa Rica when you don't speak a lick of Spanish. Bish you never even been to Costa Rica! But you know she "doesn't care about material things." Really is that why you just bought a brand new car and are carrying a Fendi bag?

Problem No. 7 - Her new boyfriend's name is Andrew. Andrew lives in the house. <-- This isn't really a problem, its just strange, and weird, and well strange and weird. So as you can see its a bit of a cluster eff. I just purchased a home, under my own name, and Coal Miner is paying me "rent" until we get rid of the other house. I just don't know how we are ever going to get rid of the damn thing. She's totally a vindictive slunt too, so I bet she finds out we are getting married and I am planning a wedding (with our own funds) so she'll decide that its the PERFECT time to sell, so we'll have to postpone the wedding a shell out $50K for their dumba$ hasty decision. Frustration is my middle name today. I knew this when I met him (he told me on the first date). I knew this when I fell in love with him (he reminded me yet again of his baggage). I knew this when I decided I wanted to marry him and spend the rest of my life with him (he asked me if I was sure I wanted this baggage to stay with us in our marriage). I knew this...I knew..and I don't know, last night I got all upset about it. All weepy, all annoying. I feel bad for Coal Miner. He was just doing what she said was a good idea, and he thought was a good idea at the time. What a costly mistake and costly lesson to learn. Not to mention a heavy weight to carry around constantly. I know it could be a lot worse. I know that...I'm just trying to wrap my head around this giant mortgage and what it means for our financial future. I'm attempting to be understanding and calm, cool, and collected. Its just hard for me to see past this right now. No one seems to have a really good answer, or a non-huge amount of cash dropping way to get ourselves out of this mess either. So I guess I just sit and wait huh? *le sigh* Oh a btw slunt I know you lied on your resume and you never graduated from Mason...and I also happen to know the VP of HR over at your company so imma keep that one close to me until I need to go all ghetto on your tail.

Monday, July 26, 2010

That Ain't French

I had my mid-year review today. All-in-all I'm killing it at work right now. That feels good to say out loud. And not in an "I'm bragging b/c I'm rad" kind of way, but more in a "I work my ass off" kind of way. Speaking of asses, in my midyear today my boss told me I need to "know my audience." I'm such an inquisitive young woman that I asked what exactly it was that he meant by that statement. He let me know that there are two (count it 2) types of people at my paycheck place - cool ones, and not cool ones. Apparently I dropped a F-bomb on a not cool one. In turn, said very uncool person remarked that I was a "phenomenal employee, but that language is not appropriate for the work place." Oh God, go f*ck yourself you ninny. You are a tool, you douche. (keep in mind that is exactly what I was saying in my head while this was being explained to me) I speak this way when complaining about your non-working ass b/c I'm stuck doing the job of 3 people when you can barely do the job of one. Or maybe I'm complaining about the fact that everyone I work with thinks they are more important than they actually happen to be. Or maybe I just like cussing. What's the problem with that huh? HOWEVER, I understand. I get it. I do. I just...I just...I don't know how to stop. I've had a potty mouth since I can remember. Hell I even lost my car for a week in high school b/c I couldn't stop cussing (my dad caught me cussing, long story short, he took the car until I "learned my lesson" - look how well that turned out). I cuss like a freight train. Anyone who knows me, knows that fact. It sort of just comes with the territory. But I've decided I'm going to attempt to use code words for all of my foul mouthed habits and hope that maybe I can kick this "problem". It will be hard b/c I don't think people fully understand and/or appreciate what I mean until I include an explicative. But hell maybe I can get the point across without 'em. ORRR maybe people will call me a puss behind my back, whatever, I'm going to try it out and see what happens (note I think this will last all of one day, maybe not even 24 hours. Come on this isn't my first rodeo!).

New Code Words:

Shut the front door - I've been using this for a while now, and while amusing it just doesn't hold the same feeling...ehhh I'll go with it

Betch - Please don't make me explain that term. It's also currently in use, but again, just not holding the same weight.

Flippin' - gey, but I'm going with it.

Clown - instead of ass hat or ass clown, I'll just go with clown.

I'm starting to shake. I don't think I can stop saying f*ck...its my favorite word. I use it every three seconds. I know its not lady like, so you can shut your face, but I like the word f*ck. Its fun! It holds great meaning. Its strong. It conveys my point. F*ck what am I going to do?!?! If only I could speak with that little asterisk. Or have someone follow me around and go "BLEEP" each time I cuss. This is going to be a very very long week....

Friday, July 23, 2010

Whoever Smelt It Dealt It

For those of you who don't know I've started taking Hot Yoga again. Its quite possibly the most relaxing and wonderful workout I've found, to date. Running is my church, Hot Yoga is my sanctuary. So anyway, you know, Yoga makes you go into all of these poses and you do all of this breathing, and you hollow out your stomach and then things happen.

You find you are breathing like a fat person, but that's how you should be breathing. You find that you are sweating like a whore in church, but that's how you should be sweating. You find that you are pushing your pelvis down, and hollowing out your stomach at the same time, and you are farting, but that's how you should be farting. WHAT? What just happened. Yep, that's right I farted in Yoga last night (not just once mind you). First time ever.

It wasn't loud, it was a creeper. But it happened the first time and I was like whatevs, I had a SBD (silent but deadly, get with the program) maybe, no one will know where it came from right? If they did, and it smelt (b/c I didn't smell anything except the sweat dripping into my nostrils), no one even batted an eyelash at me. Then it happened again, this time longer and more drawn out. And OH SHIT here comes the lady to make sure I'm hollowing out and pushing down my pelvis, and not using my wrists...wait for it...wait for it...she leans over to pull my pelvis back and I fart on her. YEP! It was just a creeper. And quite honestly they weren't smelling, I know b/c I can smell my own farts. I was just "passing gas" through my system. But I was hella embarrassed at the thought of farting on her chest as she attempted to help me through my pose, but I mean bish that comes with the territory. She has to know that's going to happen so I don't want to hear a word out of her. That's what she gets for leaning over my back and pushing her chest into me, and pulling my pelvis out. I mean really what did she expect was going to happen? I was going to sigh in contentment? No bish, imma fart. DEAL WITH IT.

So anyway, I approached her after the class to apologize for farting on her chest when she was just trying to help me out. I said very sheepishly "I'm really sorry I think I might have passed gas while you were helping me out." To which she replied very sweetly "Really? Didn't even notice! And if you did, its completely normal and natural. Don't you worry yourself a minute. You had some fantastic poses this really might be a natural." THANK YOU GOD! THANK YOU GANESHA! Whoever...just thank you for letting me fart on this woman's boobs and have her not even notice. I owe you big guy, I owe you!

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Well You Can Just Go Kiss My Trailer Park

I was watching "Jersey Shore" the other day, shut up you know you watch it as well so I really don't want to hear even a peep out of you, and realized that while I say that these people are absolutely ridiculous they are completely normal. They are young. Think back to when you were 22, you acted in a similar fashion. Maybe I'm the only one, but it may not have been quite as intense or Jerseyish, but I was definitely a "situation" when I went out on the weekends. Weren't you?

Think about it, we all used to go out and get faced. I mean like faced. We used to start fights, with random people for no reason. Mostly b/c we had been pre-drinking since 7pm b/c we couldn't afford to drink at the bar, so we got to the bar at like 11pm and were totally sh*tcanned by that point. So someone would nudge us, or pass us, or drop their drink on us, and WATCH OUT b/c shiz was going down. Never mind the fact that most of the time those people had no intention of pissing us off, or even nudging us in the least bit and were probably too drunk to even notice they dropped a drink on us. But we were 22, drunk, and invincible. We were loud, obnoxious, conceited, over zealous, omnipotent, cheap dressers, self absorbed, etc. We WERE the cast of "Jersey Shore" whether you like it or not folks.

My whole point to this was not supposed to be about getting faced when I was 22. The whole point was supposed to be around the dynamics of that group. When you are young you have these people in your life who are your party friends. You think at the time that they are your closest friends, they will do anything for you, they will be there for you when you need it most, they are your people. But they aren't. Those people are just your going out friends. They will never be anything more. Perhaps one of them will turn into something more than that, but most likely you will grow up, stop going out, stop getting faced, and you will have nothing in common. This too will happen to the Jersey Shore people. Just like it did on "The Hills" - Lauren Conrad didn't want to be surrounded by those people any longer. They were fun, when she was into just having fun, but she wanted more, just like all of us want more as we get older (I know this b/c Lauren and I are good friends and she told me that herself <-- I'm totally kidding, I'm just assuming I know this about Lauren. WORSE.).

I realized the other day my sorority was also a lot like Jersey Shore. Now before anyone gets pissed off please know that I met some amazing ladies during my time in the sorority. Some of which I'm still very close (best of friends) and talk to on a regular basis. Others that I'm not so close to but still enjoy catching up with, laughing with, and stalking on Facebook. However, if you really think back to the ole sorority days, you find the people you were closest with were just a facade. In their defense we had no idea who we were when we were 18 - 21 years old. Like anyone they grew out of being friends with me and vice versa. I can't fault them - it happens. But what makes me sad about the entire situation (no pun intended) is how it all played out. I know people come in and out of your life for a reason. They are either worth fighting to keep in your life, or it just doesn't make sense to fight at all. Somewhere along the way I lost people. I'm not even sure anymore if it was me who lost them or if they lost me. Was it my doing? Was it their doing? Did they even notice? When did I notice? Do I want to reach out? Should I reach out? Do I care? Time passes, and people change, and life takes you in a different direction. But these ladies were, for four years at a minimum, such an integral part of my life. Am I just different now? Should I just let it go?

I struggle with this question often...did you notice a small theme in my blogs?

On a different note - my girlfriend (one of my sorority sisters, seee I still talk to a lot of them) and I were having drinks the other night and she told me that she ended up having drinks one night w/a young lady (ripe age of 23) working with the ex. The young girl, in full detail, explained to my friend how long ex and I dated, what type of relationship we had, how it ended, and most importantly that it really wasn't serious and I really wanted to get married and he didn't. DOOOO WHHAAATTTT??? Who the FRACK is this chick? WTH is my ex telling these young bucks? Whatever, I could care less, but in all honesty, it was hurtful. How dare someone say that 4 years of your life isn't serious...but maybe, in his mind, it wasn't. That's so sad to me. I'm sad for him. I'm not sad for me b/c I got seriously upgraded to first class with Coal Miner, but I'm sad for him that this is what he's telling people. I'm sad that this is what makes him feel better about himself, about the situation. I'm sad that lying is the only way. I would have hoped that he could be mature about the situation and quite frankly not discuss it in detail with individuals who don't know me, nor were they involved in the relationship. But perhaps that's his coping mechanism. Perhaps that is really how he feels. If so, I'm fine with that, I just wish he could find the peace that I did with the outcome. Maybe this is his peace, and if so, good luck to you my old friend, wish you nothing but greatness.

And that's that!

Thursday, July 8, 2010

That's Not Funny, YES IT IS

I used to think I was going to be like the raddest mom alive. I had dreams of coo'ing babies and staring into the blue eyes of a smiling child. Taking family photos by the beach, all dressed in the same outfits. Staying home to workout, cook dinner, clean, discipline, and just be the most amazing mother and wife anyone could dream of being. Then my sisters had kids. My dreams have been shattered. I'm absolutely certain I'm going to be the worst mother alive. I think I will also be the angriest woman alive. Kids are a royal pain in the a$$. No I'm serious. They are cute and all, and I might be a complete natural (or so that's what everyone keeps telling me), but I'm just not sure I can deal with those little devil spawns. I've listed my reasons below (b/c you guys know that I love lists) as to why I think I'm going to receive a "F" with flying colors should I decide to successfully procreate.
  1. I LOVE sleeping - kids apparently do not like sleeping. What they like is to wake up in the middle of the night and scream as if I've severed one of their limbs. They also like to do this multiple times throughout the night so that they can be sure that you are so exhausted that couldn't possibly keep yourself from crying less than three times in a 24 hour period. I think kids know exactly when you are in the deepest form of sleep. They wait until the right moment and then BAM - wake the eff up mommy my a$$ is hung-garee.
  2. I'm vain - What if I can't lose my "baby weight"? What if I'm like one of those people on that TLC show "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" who is still fat from their previous pregnancy that they don't even know that they are pregnant with another child? Or if I'm like one of those people you see on the metro who you think you should offer your seat, but you aren't 100% certain, and you don't want to be the bish who offers a seat to a person who looks to be pregnant but isn't and then you are just like the worst human alive. What if that happens to me?
  3. I like my boobs - am I a bad person if I'm afraid that my boobs are going to stretch and drop and look like inflated pancakes? OMG I'm starting to tear up right now just thinking about that situation. My boobs are awesome. Coal Miner loves my boobs. What if I decide to let one of my little spawns breast feed and then I have not cute boobs. And then Coal Miner isn't attracted to me and I have to wait to get a boob job b/c I can't get one until I'm done having kids. The horror.
  4. I don't want a child to interfere with my unlimited mobile-to-mobile minutes - There is nothing I hate more that talking on the phone and someone being completely distracted b/c their child is tugging on their leg or screaming for something in the background. Mommy is trying to have a conversation so please shut your face for a few minutes. I am a terrible person, I already know this.
  5. I don't know how to say no nicely - its a problem, no IT IS. My "no" usually consists of some horrid facial expression and a tone that could injure even the strongest self esteem levels. Add to that the fact that I think children should completely understand and comprehend, no matter the age, why I'm saying no...well that's just a recipe for disaster.
  6. I have zero patience - I get irritated when...well when don't I get irritated? I'm the most irritated person I know. I mean I defend this by saying that adults should just "know better" but I bet I start saying "oh come on, that kid should know better!"
  7. I like my weekends - my friend called me the other day from the soccer field. She told me that she had soccer at 9am, a birthday party at noon, another birthday party at 2pm and it was only Saturday. KILL ME NOW. She then started to cry a little until I told her that we could have wine on a school night b/c I would man up for that (I don't usually drink on school nights b/c it affects my super engaged mindset while I'm at my super engaging job) and b/c I could hear the desperation in her voice. She sniffled and said in a tiny whisper "thank you." I mean are you a bad mom b/c you'd rather get drunk than sit through two 3-year old birthday parties in one day? I don't think so.
  8. I'm already exhausted and don't have time to workout - I get home now at like 7pm, after leaving at 7am. I'm exhausted. I'm hungry. I just sat in traffic. Its too hot for me to go running. I don't have a gym membership. And I'm getting fat. What happens once a child comes into the mix? What happens to my "hungry, flabby, no time to workout self" then?!?!
  9. If I have to do another load of laundry I'll punch someone - I seriously cannot handle the amount of laundry that has come into my life since Coal Miner has come into my life. I swear to the heavens above that man never wears anything twice. All of the laundry I do is his. And freaking clothes are all over the floor, and I have to pick them up, and wash them, and blah blah blah. Adding another individual's laundry to my current 3+ loads a week sounds like nightmare on elm street 14. WORSE!

So you can see these are just a few of the reasons I probably wouldn't win Mother of the Year, well, ever. Am I bad person or is it normal to think you are going to be the worst mom ever?

Friday, July 2, 2010

Going Going, Back Back, to Two Years Ago

I was just over at Chelsea Talks Smack and reading her latest post, which took me back...oh back to a time I try to forget often, but need to relive at times. A time when the world seemed dark and twisted, and my life seemed more chaotic and meaningless that I could have ever admitted. Chelsea is going through a particularly similar situation - and I wouldn't wish that upon anyone. I don't know Chelsea personally, but a piece of my heart broke for her this morning. I know a little too intimately the dark feeling that clouds not only your head, but your judgment, and your life. It envelopes you with such power that it seems you will never escape its grip. But she will.

Some days I can't believe I was ever in that place. At times I think I may have dreamt it happened. And although it pains me to the core to admit it, I thank whoever is watching over me for allowing me the opportunity to experience the pain that ensued. Its through this pain that I learned about myself. I learned what I was willing to "put up with" and what was a deal breaker. I figured out what I liked. What I wanted. What made me tick. I found that this person I thought was going to be an integral part of my future, was never destined to be the person I thought he was. And I learned, no that's not the right word...I mastered the ability to be alone. And guess what, I loved it. I loved that I had such calm about the entire situation. I loved that I loved me. I loved that I had been in such despair and hit such a bottomless pit, that there was no where to go but to a state of self love. It’s okay that he wasn’t the right one for me. Its okay that I made mistakes. Its okay that I was a drunk, crying mess. Its okay that I hadn’t seen the things other people had (and let’s be real I had failed to listen). Its okay that I was wrong. I was really wrong.

I make this all sound very easy and very simple. But its not. It takes time. Years. But once you find that state, that euphoric state, the bliss that comes after …cannot be put into words. It is a feeling, an emotion, an overwhelming urge. My bliss is Coal Miner. He is my bliss. My current life is my bliss. My destiny. I am me. I am loved. And that dark time has never seemed as far away as it does now.

Chelsea, you will find your bliss. You are not alone. You are allowed to be however you want to be right now. You will find your bliss. <3

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Ain't Having None of It

I don't know about you but I'm not a morning person. I never have been. As of late I've become MORE of a morning person, but quite honestly its not much of an improvement. I used to be evil. The looks I gave people in the past would have melted their face off if I had the power to do so. But recently I've cut back on the death looks and instead I refrain from speaking. If you speak to me, I will probably answer you in an extremely agitated tone. But that's better than the former, right?!?! At any rate, Coal Miner is a morning person. He doesn't think he is, but HE IS. He wakes up and is like super frakin excited, the moment his eyes open. He wants to talk about life, and be lovey, and chat about my dreams, and find out how I slept, and just a myriad of questions, comments, and pink ribbons and ponies. For instance this morning he was all up in my face, no I mean like ALL UP IN MY FACE. He actually got so close to my face, b/c he didn't have his contacts in, that I got freaked out. Which resulted in the following conversation:
Me: Whoa get out of my face! *said not nice in the least bit*
Coal Miner: What? Why?
Me: Why are you so close to my face? Its creepy.
CM: B/c I don't have my contacts in.
Me: Then put them in and get out of my face. You were like 2 inches from my face. It's weird.
CM: Whatever I'm just feeling very lovey and wanted to tell you. *All smiling and sh!t*
Me: Then tell me, but don't get so close to my face, its 6:00 in the f*king morning. *Not smiling*
CM: Want to shower together? How did you sleep? Did you wake up during the night? Did you have any dreams? What happened in your dreams?
Me: No I don't want to shower with you. And why are you asking so many questions? Jezus!
CM: Shot down again! *with a bit of laughter*
Yea that isn't funny Coal Miner. Nothing about you speaking to me this morning was amusing. I actually wanted to stab you. I don't know about you guys, but I need to ease into my morning. I need to shower, I need to wake up, I need to be alone before I ninja chop someone b/c they are all up in my face at 6:04am. Don't get me wrong, I love the man, but you'd think after a year he would understand that I am not happy about being awake during the week. On the weekend, yea sure let's chat it up. But at 6am, with a hour+ commute in front of me, and a job that chaps my a$$ with a vengeance on a daily basis, homegurl ain't up for small talk and conversations. I don't even understand how people wake up and are instantly happy. Why? Why are you so happy? Is it really that great to be waking up to go to work? I'd personally rather stay home and watch tv, maybe go for a run, do a little shopping, relax. But apparently there are people in the world who LOVE the morning. I'm not one of those people. I will never be one of those people. Which begs the question, what happens when I have kids? Those little humans love to wake up at 5am. I'm going to make my kid stay up until midnight so he/she sleeps until 9am. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll wake up at 8am. Then maybe I'll let them "play in their crib" so momma can grab some coffee and get herself together before the day begins. I'm not sure how this is all going to play out. But I do know that I started thinking about this on the way to work this morning (in between my bouts of road rage b/c apparently Coal Miner couldn't locate the new bag of coffee in the pantry and I didn't get a mug before I left which makes me super pissy) and it FREAKED ME THE FUG OUT! I guess I'll just have to wait and see if I can even conceive, but these thoughts cross my mind, you know? I mean these are important things to consider. Anyway, I hate my job and I need to do some work so I'm off like a prom dress. Peace betches.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Bleh Kiss It

Do you ever find that you've run out of things to talk about? I mean, I never run out of things to talk about, b/c right now I have a list of what I want to blog about. As a matter of fact I'm going to list out my list just to show that I haven't run out of things to talk about.

Things I Want to Blog About
1. Coal Miner's brother and his enabling parents
2. The drama of purchasing a home
3. My seriously controlling boss
4. My "best friend" who told me she'd have to ask if it was okay for me to go to a bar and watch world cup with her
5. Selling things on CraigsList - and the funny a$$ emails I get
6. Facebook

Seeee I totally have things to write about. But what I really want to write about seems like I've written about it before. Seems like I haven't resolved the issue. Seems like I'm living groundhog day. I'm wondering if maybe I should take a hiatus from writing for a while...but that would make me sad b/c this is my therapy. But I don't think I'm funny anymore. I think I'm too serious. I think I'm taking people too serious. I think I'm taking myself too serious. What do I do blogger friends, what do I do?

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Selfish? Me? Well...Sometimes, Daayyyuummm

Its come to my attention recently that folks seem to think I'm being selfish. Selfish with my time, my money, my thoughts, my interactions, my...everything. (side note, I just used the word "my" a lot which could be part of the issue...anyhoo) I can understand why someone would think I'm being selfish. I mean I do tend to decline invitations more than previous and I haven't really been spending much time with friends. So yea, I can see it, but I feel like (and I shouldn't really) I need to explain myself. Its nothing against anyone in particular. And its not that I love anyone less, or enjoy their company less, or that I'm trying to push them away. Really, I promise you its not. Its just that I spent years of my life with someone who was the most selfish person I've ever met. So I was completely selfless. And not just with him, but with everyone. I did all of the traveling, calling, emailing, texting, keeping up, sending cards, buying gifts, remembering life events, going to life events, and I loved it, I did. Until I realized I had spent so much time keeping up with everyone else, and making sure everyone else was okay, that I didn't know if I was okay. I hadn't kept up with me.

I went through a stage of denial where I tried to keep up the facade, but I kept getting angry each time I had to go to some place, or thing, that I didn't really want to go to, b/c I felt bad. So I made a decision, shortly after discussing this with Coal Miner (who is still the raddest man alive - and my face of reason - and completely selfless), that I needed to take a break for a little while. I needed to concentrate on myself, on us. I need to be selfish *gasp*. Something I wasn't accustomed to, had no familiarity with, and didn't even know if I was capable of being (yes I just ended that sentence with being, shut your grammar face). So I'm trying it out. I'm not over committing myself, yet I find that I still don't have any weekends for me. I spend most of my time still traveling to see people, and my time is not really my own. However, I have started to say "no." And I'm proud of me for that. I still can't say no without an explanation as to why I'm saying no, but I'm getting better. So please, don't be mad, don't be agitated, and don't think its you...its not, its me, and its okay, and you can't be mad at me b/c I want to make sure I'm okay, and I'm taken care of, and I'm on the right track, and Coal Miner and I are making the right decisions. B/c I'm absolutely certain that I'll still always be your biggest cheerleader, shoulder to cry on, and face of reason when you need it. I'm just a phone call, text, email give a shot, I bet I still respond in a reasonable time frame and even may adjust my "schedule" to see you. I might be a little on the selfish side right now (or trying to be at least) but I'm still as annoyingly involved in your life (even if I know one or two less details than I should). Now...stop being a PITA and give me some space. :)


Friday, May 14, 2010

The Case of the Hypothetically Stolen Laptop

This is going to be a short post - mostly a rant. My laptop was hypothetically stolen by our rent-a-cops at work, at 2am, from my desk (b/c I forgot to lock the docking station). I've been formally reprimanded for failing to follow our code of conduct. I can't for the life of me find that written anywhere, or even know if its legal, but I do know that I can browse porn all day, or actually have my laptop stolen (for real, and not just hypothetically) and not get in any trouble...hmmm seems a little wrong doesn't it? Oh well. No one ever said life is fair did they? Eff it, I'm going to look at porn while I'm still here at work. Woop!

Megan's Work = 1, Megan = 0.

Friday, May 7, 2010

I Don't Follow Rules - I Break 'Em Betch

I'm a runner - and by runner I do not mean that I like to go out for a jog every now and then. I mean that I actually go running, for multiple miles (like a minimum of 5), about 5 days a week. I also like to do stupid things like run 10-Mile races and crap like that (yes I'm going to do a 1/2 Marathon b/4 my 30th bday, and no I don't know why). At any rate, there are rules when you are a runner. All runners know about these rules, they are unspoken. However, when running on the WO&D trail a few weekends ago I noticed people not following the rules of running. Maybe this is b/c they are new runners. Or maybe its b/c its been cold outside for a while, and they've been running alone all winter long and they forgot the rules. Or maybe, just maybe its b/c they don't feel like they have to follow the rules. Well guess what betches, I'm here to tell you to follow the dayum rules or I will kick you in your shins. Just in case these people are new runners, and may have not heard of the rules, I'm going to post them below, with explanations so that there is no confusion as to when you should abide by these rules (read ALWAYS). Oh and for the guy who came up onto the sidewalk in his Chevy Trailblazer the other night, so he could hurry up and make it to the red light, and ended up kicking rocks all over me with his tires, you can go punch yourself in the face. I hope you have a flat tire d!ck. Sorry, rules, yes, here we go.

Rule #1: When a fellow runner waves at you, you wave back.
Yea guess what a$$hole, I'm not waving at you b/c I don't know you and I want to make friends. I'm waving at you b/c that's what we do as runners. We acknowledge the other person who is part of our little club, and is making a choice to run, not b/c they are forced to, but b/c they really enjoy running and they love the high you get when you finish running, and they love the sweat and the pain, and all of that good stuff. So just wave and keep running. You don't even have to smile, just tilt your wrist up and WAVE.

Rule #2: If I'm moving too slow for you, go around me.
Stop running on my heels weirdo. If I'm going to slow for you, just freaking run around me. Is it really that hard? You are running, just move over to the left and go around me, b/c I'm running on the right-hand side just in case there are people faster than me.

Rule #3: If I start to go around you, do not speed up. This is not a race.
Okay you were running too slow for me, I decided to go around you and now you want to race me? OH HAIL NO! Move your slow tail out the way. And if you want to race around me after I get around you, then so be it. But don't you dare try and race me - I will cut you.

Rule #4: No you cannot have a sip of my water.
Ewwww you is nasty! Why would I let you drink my water? I mean I get it, you forgot yours, but turn around and go get some. You shouldn't be running 12 miles on Saturday without any water. Or if you started to run and realized you forgot yours, then turn the eff around and go back. You'll make that 12 miles, it will just be in 3 miles segments instead of 6 mile segments.

Rule #5: Don't you dare say "Yuck" when I spit.
I'm running, a lot, and it makes you get all cotton mouthy and phlemy, so shut your face, I've got to spit. So yea, I just did spit, and you are going to have to spit later on. End of story.

Rule #6: Dress for the weather.
When you go running, you should dress as if it were 10 degrees warmer out due to your body temperature rising while you run. Additionally, jogging pants are not really great running pants, they are just for lounging. Cotton is no bueno for the wet whicking we all like to have on our bodies. Oh and unless you are running 20 miles, you do not need 14 water/liquid containers on your hydration belt. For the love of everything holy, take some of those off!

Rule #7: Stop at the crosswalk and don't expect cars to stop for you.
Yea, those big heavy cars/buses/trucks will crush your a$$. So don't act all awesome and run through the crosswalk (or lack thereof) will wreckless abandonment b/c you will get creamed. Yes, I know, that white man was there on the signal telling you to cross, but cars don't care about that. They like to get where they are going, when they want to get there, regardless of whether or not you happen to be in the middle of that crosswalk. So please, look both ways before you scar me for life with visuals of your mangled body entangled with steel.

I think that's good enough to jog your memory (no pun intended) or to start you off. You'll learn the rest as you go along. And remember, I'm just here to help, not to place blame. No follow the dayum rules or else! Smoochies! :)

Friday, April 30, 2010

I Barely Have Time to Pee During the Day

So I admit - I've been sucking on the blogging lately. Hey, I admitted it, so shut your face now okay?!?! I thought perhaps I'd rant a bit about my visit to the Bahamas. I know, I know, you are sitting there thinking "is this bish really gonna complain about going to the Bahamas?!?!" but you've gotta understand, I love to complain. No really, I do. Its like my favorite past time. At any rate, let the games begin.

Okay so we are supposed to be on a 8:30 flight out of DCA on US Airways (which I still refer to as US Scareways, b/c its STILL scary). We arrive at the airport, skate through security, and arrive at our gate (for our international departure) 1 hour and 15 minutes before the plane departs. The plane is there, the pilot is there, the flight attendants are there, we are all there, ready to go. So, we begin boarding at 7:45 (and ps I got shafted on my zone even though I have like 200K miles with Star Alliance, no biggie, go eff yourself USAir, I digress) and boarding goes super smooth. The following items annoy me about this flight:

1. This is a packed a$$ plane, with lots of children, which is just weird right? I mean I had no idea so many people took their children to the Caribbean for vacation? Dude we went to Disney World, and that was like a big deal (and 16 hours in a car). The Bahamas? Are you serious? What 6 year old understands the magnitude of the fact that they are going to the freaking Caribbean? I'm just now going to the Caribbean and I'm a working adult, who makes a great living, and can finally afford to do so. Additionally, I think going to the Caribbean is kind of romantic. What the hell is romantic about going there with your children? I know, I don't have kids, I don't get it...I've heard it before. But I am absolutely certain my kids aren't going to the Caribbean with Coal Miner and I...FACT!

2. The lady behind me has the whiniest fuggin kid I have ever heard. This kid betched about EVERYTHING. His seat, his jacket, his hat, he was hungry, he was tired, he didn't want to play that game, he didn't want his sister to read with him, he wanted a different book. BACKHAND YOUR KID OR I WILL. If I ever, ever, would have acted like that, it would have been one of my last days on this fine earth. Big Lee would have put me tarmac and left me there, FACT!

3. We've been sitting for almost 15 minutes beyond our take-off time and we haven't gone anywhere...hmmm..the pilot comes on and says "Well folks, looks like we have a small mechanical issue here. The mechanics are working on it now, but no idea when they'll be done, I'll keep you posted." 45 minutes later "Well folks...we haven't made much progress. Still having some issues, we'll keep you posted." 30 minutes later "Soooo *insert laughter* no new news. The mechanics are trying to decide if we should fix the problem, or if we should just get ourselves on a new plane. We hope to be out of here in the next 30 minutes." 30 minutes later "So its going to take way too long to fix this issue. We're just going to get you guys on a new plane. So let's have every de-board, and we'll re-board and the gate right next to us. Thanks for your patience folks." A) if he says "folks" one more time I'm launching my pen at him B) it took you 2 hours to figure that out a$$hole? C) get me off this plane I'm starving and I've got to tinkle.

4. We get to the new gate and the plane is sitting there, the pilots are there, the flight attendants are there, we are all there. Except we aren't boarding. We are the terminal...with no direction. 1 hour later "Okay everyone, we are going to board in the same order we did before. Zone 1" 30 minutes later "Sorry about the delay folks - lets get you to Nassau." Really? Really? I paid extra to leave at 8:30 in the morning so I could have a full day there, I'm now going to arrive 5+ hours AFTER I was supposed to arrive. I hate you US Airways - FACT!

5. While in-flight the attendants say to us over the VERY LOUD loudspeaker "We know you guys have missed out on some of your vacation, and we apologize. To make it up to you we'd like to offer you a US Airways Credit Card..." WHHHAAATTTT??? You want to offer me a credit card to make up for the fact that I just lost an entire day in the Bahamas? Wow, you guys are BOLD. "We are going to put an extra 5,000 miles on there for your trouble, and b/c you open the card, you get 25,000 miles, which means you are already eligible for a free flight. This will just cost you $79, the annual fee of the card." So Miss Chipper, it isn't actually a "free flight it is? Nope, doesn't take a 4th grader to figure that out. THIS BISH! Appalled...YES!

6. Jolly ride on the plane, we start getting near Nassau "Well folks, looks like you just missed the sunshine. Clouds are rolling in and a light drizzle has started. I hope you enjoy your stay and fly with us again." Ummm that's going to be a negative ghost rider.

So anyway, the weather sucked when we go there, but we got drunk and gambled at the casino so whatevs, that was fun. And then the next day was AMAZING. So I can't really complain b/c I did get to go to the Bahamas, and I did get some serious sun, and I did get to spend some awesome time with the Coal Miner, so I should shut my face right?

Oh and just so you know, I complained to US Airways. I didn't ask for anything, I didn't place blame, I just said that I was really disappointed in their airlines, I was appalled at the offering of a credit card, and they should really take a second look at their benefits realization structure with regard to their customers. In turn, they gave me two $75 vouchers to use within the next 6 months, with blackout periods...which I guess is a good start right?!?!?

Thursday, March 18, 2010

You Cannot Be Serious

So as usual, work makes me giggle on the reg and I just had to share some of the experiences over the past two weeks. While I'm stuck in a sh!tstorm of program work, I do occasionally pickup on things happening around my office. And you know, everyone here speaks at like level 327 so its hard not to hear them.

Today in the cafeteria: A guy in front of me in line, says to a lady two behind me in line "I can't wait to tell you about my crazy night last night. It was a doozy! I mean Oh My God I was...well let's just say it was crazy." To which the nice young lady replies "Me too, St. Patrick's Day is AWESOME!"...ummm did you know that you are in line at work?!?! B/c the whole line just heard you and we now all think you got faced last night, are hungover, and think you are still 21. Just sayin.

Mister Inappropriate: Apparently MI's wife likes to speed. So the other day she got a ticket for sailing through a stop sign in Montgomery County. Apparently the cop was "hiding" and it "really wasn't fair." Well guess what, she got another one this morning, at THE SAME STOP SIGN. How stupid do you have to be to get a ticket, within one week of each other, for the same offense, at the same location? Pure comedy. He was up in arms with Montgomery County b/c they are "just trying to make money, its so unfair." Oh and his cubemate says "Dude maybe she should just stop running stop signs and then there wouldn't be a problem right?" Crickets....Crickets...still nothing has been said.

In the Bathroom: Someones cell phone rings, its the cleaning lady's (I only know this b/c the ring tone was some Spanish song and she started singing along). She answers and says "Hola" and then says "I'm peeing" and then says "Yes" and flushes the toilet and then says "Si, si, si, numero dos. Vasta!" Yea lady I might be American, but I can understand that you just told whoever was on the other end of that phone that you took a dump.

On the Elevator: You have to use your badge to access the parking garage, so I get to the elevator and a woman is standing there staring at the elevator. I say "Did you forget your badge?" and she replies "No I hit the button." And I say "Oh you need your badge to call the elevator" and she says "Ummm I'm pretty sure I know how to operate an elevator." And the guy behind me says "Obviously not this one!" and swipes his badge, then presses the button. Needless to say the elevator ride down to P4 was a bit awkward, but I was smiling the entire time.

In a Meeting: Social Media is something we are trying to get going around here (I'm actually heading up the workstream (yea we use words like "workstream" which are actually two words, but we've made them one word)) and so someone says to me "In laymen terms, why exactly would you blog?" To which I reply "As simply as possible, to expression your opinions, feelings, disseminate knowledge, etcetera." And I get the answer of "Well that just seems silly, who the hell reads blogs anyway? I think all of this social media crap is a waste of time, valuable company time." I just smiled at the old fart.

Over IM: "Your SVP just wrapped a piece of sausage in a blueberry pancake. I thought you should know." a few minutes later "Oh My God, she is doing it again! She must be starving! By the way, it didn't make a sound...I kind of expected to hear a crunch or a small cry for help from the sausage. But alas, nothing."

This place is super really it is! I know I would miss it if I ever left. I find it highly unlikely that the same ish that happens here happens at other companies. If it does, please do share! :)

Monday, February 15, 2010

Why No, Actually I Don't Live in Vermont

I've decided to write a list of things that I miss. See as i've grown older (and if one more person calls me a "soon to be cougar" I'm going to kick their a$$) I'm not quite as fun as I used to be. No, I swear it, its true. I mean yea I know, I'm still super fun, but not like the 20-something super fun I used to be ya know. So I'm going to write about the 20-something antics I used to engage, and why I miss them. Its more therapy for me than for you, so shut your face. Maybe I'll write something fun next week when I'm sitting on my couch watching Lifetime again. Ps, Lifetime is a horrible channel. How did I at one point "love this channel"?!!? Man I had issues.

I Miss You....
Metabolism: You and I were once inseparable. You were quick, fast, speedy and allowed me to barely gain any weight without ever exercising. Its official, you have slowed down and have forced me to begin running copious amounts of miles each week. Its okay, I understand, its a fact of life. But I really miss you. Perhaps you could come back and visit?

Dancing on Boxes/Stages/Bars: We had some good times didn't we? Not only was it hella fun, I made money doing it. Yea I know, my outfits were a bit skanky and I had to work super late hours. But I got free booze, and made cash, and didn't have claim a dime of it. Now I could never dream of getting up on a bar, scantily clad, and show up Beyonce's moves. And no readers, I was not a stripper, I was a club dancer. Jezus you guys have no faith in me.

Staying up until 5am and sleeping-in until 1pm: Oh how I long to see the sunrise in a druken haze again. Oh how I long to put up darkening shades at 5am so I can sleep until mid-afternoon. Only to wake up and do it all again the next day. In all actuality the thought of that does not inspire me at all. It actually makes me yawn, but hey it was a lot of fun at the time.

Cigarettes: Smokey friend, we have parted ways but how I long to take one nice long drag, right after a sip of RedBull and Vodka. Ahhhh I can taste it now. That smokey aftertaste in my mouth, then I take another sip of the RedBull and Vodka. Then the buzz kicks in. yea, that was nice. All except the possibility of getting lung cancer part. WTF was I thinking? Thanks be to God I stopped doing that. HOWEVER, please note I loved it at the time. It was so theraputic. But stupid.

Fast Food as a Hangover Cure: Oh McDonald's, we've been through some tough times together. Your fountain soda, greasy burger, and medium fry could cure even the worst hangover. Laying on the living room floor, wishing I were dead, with my roommates feeding me a Big N' Tasty meal, and feeling better within a hour. Oh yes, McDonald's you ARE the most amazing hangover cure. Too bad that metabolism thing slowed down and now I can instantly feel the fat hit my thighs if I even take a bite of a Big N' Tasty.

Wednesdays Are the New Thursday, Thursdays are the New Friday, etc: Glasses of cabernet for $2.50? Why yes, I think I'll have 12, on a Tuesday, why not? That my friends, was RAD. We used to drink like every night. I mean like getting FACED every night. I don't even remember most of those nights, but I do remember that they were f-u-n. Tuesdays were the new Wednesdays, I don't care what anyone says. Shall we dance Wednesday? One final farewell?

*Le sigh* I do miss all of you so...I miss you so.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

No Way, Yes Way, No Way, YES WAY

Okay I live in Northern Virginia, as everyone knows, and if you didn't well now you do. Anyway, shiz is expensive. Like hella expensive. Gas, groceries, housing, cars, you name it, its expensive. Like for instance I heart Velveeta cheese slices. Its $5 for a package of Velveeta slices at the Giant (which is our "cheapest grocery store"). However, in the Va Bizzle, where my mother resides, its only $3. Can someone please explain to me how that cheese became $2 more expensive in 200 miles? Did it really cost you $2 extra dollars to ship that cheese 200 miles? And I'm pretty sure we (meaning DC) are closer to that processing plant than Va Bizzle, so again I ask you how this is possible. Its possible b/c the median household income in Northern Virginia is $102,700 and in Virginia Beach its $67,900. Yep, 2 hours and $30,000 later I pay $2 more for cheese than my mother does. But lets get down to the point b/c I'm not here to talk about cheese, I'm here to talk about Valentine's Day.

Does anyone else find this holiday to be foul? If Coal Miner doesn't tell me that he loves me on any other days besides VDay I will kick him in the shins. I guess I get it. Its a day to celebrate your love. But I celebrate my love every single day with a glass of wine and wham bam thank you ma'am. So take that Valentine's Day. However, and you knew there was one, if Coal Miner were interested in purchasing me something for said foul holiday, I wouldn't be opposed to this. I mean our anniversary HAPPENS to coincide with said foul holiday (okay its like 5 days later but don't be so dayum technical, for the love of God) so I can't say that buying me a little something (read MORE DIAMONDS) would be such a silly idea. Honestly, I think its a great idea. We can celebrate the day of love, our fantastic relationship, the anniversary of our meeting, and whatever else we want to lump into the holiday.

I'm also here to talk about the fact that the type of house I want in Northern Virginia is not attainable at the current moment b/c its over $700K here and only $250K in the rest of the United States of America. I know you are probably telling me to shut my face right now b/c probably make a good amount of money and if I really hate it so much I should move, but I kind of like DC. Nah, I don't, but its good to try and convince yourself every now and then that you really really enjoy your 11-mile, 45+minute commute. And your 10+hour work days aren't so bad. I mean who doesn't love getting to work at 8:30 and leaving at 8pm? That's a good time! Oh and not working out anymore is super awesome. Coal Miner did say that he liked big booties, so never fear my love, my secretary's spread is a' growin'! Overall, I've met some amazing people here in DC so I can't knock it too much and I really do (sadistically) like my job and the folks I work with/for, so its not all bad. I just wish I didn't have to plan my trips to the grocery store/gas station/visiting friends around a permanent rush hour.

Back to Valentines Day since that's why we are really here. Coal Miner shouldn't have bought me diamonds for Christmas or let me pick out engagement rings b/c now I'm antsy. I find myself looking at diamonds online - watches with diamonds, bracelets with diamonds, diamond rings, engagement rings (a lot), oy vey, make it stop. And to answer that, the way to make it stop is to buy me more right? No I'm kidding, I don't' really need any more diamonds (need being the operative word here), so really don't buy me anything for Valentine's Day Coal Miner. No really, I think its a silly holiday. No, I do, I really do. Wait you do want to buy me something? Well shucks...I mean if you want to buy me something...I mean I guess I couldn't refuse a gift.