I quite life...the reponsibilities of it anyway

I quit life.  Have you ever had a week that was so awful that you just wanted nothing more than to crawl into your comfy, cozy bed and hibernate until the next one came around? This is that kind of week.  It’s not even as if one event imparticular made the week crash off course; rather, I think it was a mixture of everything and anything that created the storm of chaos to wreck through my life.  Welcome to adulthood, I suppose.

Monday was just as manic as any.  Went back to work and the kids returned as crazy after the weekend as they are when they return from winter break.  Their nonsense made me want to immediately retreat to my car and head due west until I was back in the safety net of my home.  I, however, with no other reason more than the knowledge of adult responsibility stuck it out and marched forward throughout the day.  That evening after work was over I was so excited to find my comfy pants and retreat to the couch for a relaxing evening with my DVR.  Roadblock: I had forgotten I had my dreaded four hour history class to attend to first.  So, in yet another attempt to be a responsible adult I headed to class and forced my eyelids open and pretended to be an attentive student; all while visions of my pillow danced through my head.

Tuesday—almost as bad as Monday’s, however, since it’s a day closer to Friday I’ll give it a little credit.   Tuesday was a fairly productive day at work; however, yet again adult responsibility bit me in the ass.  I had my first Astronomy exam and was not prepared at all.  I left work a bit early to rush to school in hopes to get a little study time in—all I can say is thank God for a great lab partner!  She helped me get ready for my exam and feel a lot more confident in taking it in less than an hour and a half!!  I actually think I did rather well on it too! One plus for Tuesday! However, getting home at 10pm after being gone since 7am and realizing that you still have about 4 hours of homework for other classes left to do just ruins what could have been a mediocre day. 

This brings me to hump day.  Oh Wednesdays, if we could just remove this day all together we’d be that much closer to Friday!  Again, work wasn’t so bad.  As usual a few kids were being rather snotty and rude, but nothing I’m not used to or couldn’t handle.  It was after work that yet again ruined the tone for the entire day.   A classmate and I rushed to Starbucks to work on an Exam that was due at the end of the week.  I was feeling really good about myself at this point.  I had a lovely cup of white chocolate mocha and in the warm, inviting, atmosphere—I was definitely ready to tackle my assignment.   After 45 minutes of intense research and what we believed to be very confident answers the exam was finished, and four days early! Can you say, “Sigh of relief!”  Never mind, hit the emergency break—I got a 68%! Are you kidding me!?!  At this point I’m thinking I want to see the answer key and I’m beyond ready to debate these “correct” answers.     Now I’m thinking, not only do I want to cocoon myself into my bed…I really want a drink.

Oh, Thursday.  I’ve never really understood why people enjoy Thursdays so much.  It’s not like it’s the end of the work week and it’s not like there is a whole lot that you can do on a Thursday evening since most people still must work on Friday.  However, I do, most certainly, appreciate it much more than I do Tuesday.  Work, again, was alright.  A bit of a challenge at the end of the day, but overall not too bad.  It wasn’t until I got to class that night that I really felt like poking my eyeballs out just to get away from the torture of my Lab professor.  If one person could kill a wonderful mood, it’s him.  He is worse than the teacher from Ferris Buhelers Day Off.  The only good thing about my Lab is that I can finish it before the man is even done droning on and on over the directions and once I’m finished I get to leave.  Huge ups for getting finished two hours early; huge disappointment to get home and not being able to fall asleep until after one a.m.

Friday, oh how I’ve waited for you to finally arrive!  The morning started off not so great: I woke up late, had to rush through the shower to get ready in time only to spill OJ all over me and had to take a second shower so I wouldn’t spend the day sticky.  Work went alright—typical Friday.   Then evening hit and I was really looking forward to spending it over dinner with a great set of friends.  Although, the company was amazing, the food was not—Zebb’s way to put the cherry topping on my bad week!

So after all of this here is the weekend!  A weekend that will be spent with an abundant amount of reading, research, paper writing, and more tests just to get prepared for another week to work and classes.  Oh Joy.  However, here’s to putting it all off to Sunday and to spending today doing absolutely nothing at all; a day to no decision making nor thoughts to be had—a day of absolute bliss!

What is Up Must Come Down!

It’s inevitable: what is up is meant to come down; even if this “law of gravity” is proclaimed for no other reason than my pure individual enjoy!  Many would call me “cold-hearted” or “evil” but I say we all have our qwerks—this is just one of mine!  You see, and I’m not ashamed to admit it, I find it completely, utterly, absolutely hysterical when I see someone fall!  I even find it funny when I fall myself!  The winter season creates thorough enjoyment for people who are amused by others falling; ice and bad tread on shoes is a recipe for a slippery disaster!

Over the weekend I went my husband and some of our friends to a Wine and Chocolate tour.  Although, the event in itself was an amazing time, the best of our laughs came from the icy mess that was blanketed upon Western New York.    As we were packing the van for our trip to Seneca Lake, Sean and I were loading the cooler full of snacks into the car—as we were stepping off the porch Sean started to slide and immediately I broke out into laughter.  Although, he managed to say on his two feet the mere thought of him plummeting to the ground was enough for a good chuckle.  (This “mishap” is what turned into a weekend debauchery of him and the others making fun of me for my little “qwerk!”)

As the snow continued to fall at rapid pace people all around were falling as well—AMAZING!!  It’s as if people don’t know that the best way to walk on sheets of ice is to walk slow and steady. (Someone should really clue them in!)  Because I got the “giggles” each time someone would start to slip and slid on the shiny surface my friends would continue to harass and taunt me for it!   It got to the point where my friends wanted to push me just so I’d fall. 

Well, as we were leaving one winery I took a different path on the sidewalk because I knew the one I had used to enter was quite slippery.  Just as I got to the end of the path my feet began to slip and slide and down I went.  This time I’m not sure what made me go into hysterics more, my fall or the extremely loud, obnoxious, noise that came from the lady walking behind me.  She made a very loud, OOOOOOOOOOOOOO noise, almost as if she was falling with me!  The funniest part of this whole fall was that we were leaving the winery in such a rush because their bathroom was out of commission and Kelli and I had to pee horribly bad!  (Needless to say, the fall was not helping my bladder!)  After I get up Kelli and I are laughing and running when we both almost slip again—this causing our laugh to get a bit uncontrollable.  Once we manage to slide back into the van her husband notices that in the midst of our “almost fall” she dropped her tour ticket so he jumps out of the van to retrieve it.

As Mike is chasing her ticket across the parking lot, which now looks like a frozen pond, the ticket is blowing side to side through the mixture of wind and snow.  He is at a dead sprint chasing this ticket past a bus, limo, and cars.  As we are cheering him on and the bus load of wine goers is cheering him on he finally prevails and gets the ticket!—the entire time I’m laughing, clinching my legs together so I don’t have an accident, laughing some more, and then laughing more at the thought of him falling. (All while hoping and wishing that he does!)

I swear I’m not mean!  We all have things that make us laugh, things that others don’t find funny—for me its people who curse the law of gravity.  Whether it’s watching Wipeout, America’s Funniest Home Videos, or stranger on the street, when someone falls it’s just absolutely comical.    So next time you see someone take a plunge for the ground, have a laugh and think of me because although others will judge you for your crude humor I’ll be laughing alongside of you!

:o) Brit

Patience..or lack there of

I’ve decided that the older I get the less patience I seem to have.  They say that patience is a virtue-a virtue that I apparently do not hold.  Its rather strange how even the littlest of things really drive me insane; on the other hand, maybe it isn’t me losing patience rather the planets stupidity level is at an all-time high!  (I’m thinking maybe the stupidity comment is fairly accurate.)  Seriously, if you think about all the things that annoy you due to a lack of patience for the situation it usually has to do with someone having a lack of common sense or showing complete ignorance. 

Things that I no longer have patience for include (in no particular order):  mouthy children, people who cut you off and then slow down, people who swerve back and forth while driving, people who don’t speak using proper grammar, hypocrites, liars, people who don’t know how to put things back where they found them, crowded places, people who don’t think ahead,  children who throw tantrums in the middle of the store, teenagers, having to repeat myself, professors who drone on and on just to take up time, people who assume that just because I’m female that I know nothing about sports, people who lack common sense, people with bad hygiene, rude people, parents who make excuses for their children’s bad behavior, bad parenting, country music, Yankees baseball, people who scrutinize me for my religious choices, babies, people who refuse to work for what they get and who are always looking for a hand out, people who don’t understand or the support the importance of the educational system, drama, bad teeth, icy roads, bone chilling cold weather, early mornings, my alarm clock, hairdressers who shouldn’t really have a job, waitresses who are rude, the public, Christmas shopping, people who forget how to drive in the snow, people who don’t understand sarcasm, and people who are quick to judge others—just to name a few!

I know it seems that I’m being rather bitchy, but the truth is we all have a long list of things that really drive us crazy; the difference is I’m willing to come right out and say what those things are.  I do try really hard do bite my tongue when I’m in situations where any of the above circumstances arise, however, if you know me at all you know how truly hard for me that can be.  At the end of the day I don’t consider myself a pessimistic person and I do try to find the best in everything/everyone while keeping an optimistic smile on my face.  It just so happens that as time goes on I learn more and more about the facts of life and what truly is important to me, therefore, I have little patience for all the things that have no significance or relevance in my life.

:o) Brit

Definition of a Friend

Friend (fr nd) n. 1. A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts. 2. A person whom one knows;

an acquaintance 3. A person with whom one is allied in a struggle or cause; a comrade. 4. One who supports, sympathizes with, or patronizes a group, cause, or movement. (Definition from www.thefreedictionary.com)

Everyone needs a good friend or two; by good friend I mean someone who knows every detail of your life and still loves you all the same.  Of course you’re going to have more than just one or two friends (or maybe you don’t and well if that’s the case then maybe you shouldn’t be such a grumpy person!) but in reality you only need a couple GOOD friends.  I’m lucky enough to have a few GOOD friends; friends who’ve I’ve known for more than half my life, fiends who’ve have been with me through every good, paid, and ugly party of my life—friends that I consider family.  Of all my friends there is one that stands out above the rest, even if she is the one who always seems to get me into the most crazy situations!

Sara (Sar·a (sâr) n. 1. A person whom has known me for three-quarters of my life.  2. A person who is beyond hysterical. 3. A person who always seems to be the cause of trouble—in a good/fun way.   4. One who is always straightforward and honest with me even when she knows it’s probably what I don’t want to hear but knows it’s what I need to hear. (Definition from ME!)

Oh where do I begin with the story of Sara and I’s friendship?  Let’s take it back to the days in elementary school where we played soccer together; or should I say, I played soccer and Sara practiced her gymnastics movies on the field!  Although we had the same circle of friends we were more of acquaintances then and continued to be until high school when our friendship blossomed and we suddenly realized how much alike we really were.   Who knew that I’d ever find someone who was as direct, snappy, overly sarcastic, spontaneous, funny, and stylish as I?  

From the time we realized that we were truly “two peas in a pod” we had many crazy and fun adventures.  From visiting “Mary Jane’s Grave” to several car “mishaps,” our friendship was nothing less than entertaining.  Not only was Sara my main source of entertainment but she was my main source of free therapy sessions.  I knew that no matter what life was serving me Sara would be there to help me through it.  She’d always be the first one to snap me out of my pity party and back to reality—thank God for Sara!

As we’ve grown up Sara and I have had periods of time where we talk less than usual and then periods of time where we talk daily, however, no matter what the circumstances have been our friendship has always held strong.  When we are together it’s as if we are teenage girls all over again—no stop laughter and silliness.  (Trust me wine does not help this matter!)   Although our friendship can never be as carefree as it was when we were younger, in the days of no responsibility, we still make sure it’s never-ending fun!  We plan lots of weekend trips and other excursions all that involve an over abundant amount of alcohol and lots of shopping.  Whether it’s an Ohio State football game, a bar crawl in New York, or a ghost hunt in Salem Mass, we always seem to be the life of the party.

The point I’m trying to get at is that although you can have many friends you need to make sure that you have one friend who is there with you through everything.  You need a friend who has seen you at your worst but only cares to remember you for your best.  You need a friend can talk sense into you while your both inebriated and who stops you from making embarrassing decisions that you’ll regret in the morning. You need a friend who will be there on your wedding day to make sure that you never stop laughing no matter how stressed or emotional you may be.  You need a friend who is still going to be all of these things and more when you’re 90 years old and getting pulled over for drinking and driving on your motorized wheel chair.  You need your own “Sara!”

 

My favorite Sara quote-"I'm popping oreo's like pringles because once you pop you can't stop..." haha and this is why I love her!!

:o) Brit

Trip to the hairdresser....gone wrong

I learned a few extremely important lessons today: 1. Not all people appreciate sarcasm—who knew! 2. It is very easy for me to envision something while someone else has a different perspective on the matter.  3.  You should always be polite to your hairdresser (or anyone else holding scissors next to your head).  4.  Apparently a ½ of an inch is not the same measurement to everyone.   5. If your hairdresser cannot schedule and appointment for you right away it’s probably a safe bet to just wait rather than find an alternative plan.

If asked, I’m not sure that I’d be able to put any of these lessons in order of importance; as I see it they all go hand in and especially if you want a positive outcome.  Let’s rewind a bit just so I can explain why and how I was lucky enough to be a part of this “teachable moment.”  (This will be explained not in the order it was listed above—like I said I cannot put these lessons into order of importance!)

You should always be polite to your hairdresser.  Have you ever stopped to think about the amount of trust you put into the hands of your hairdresser?  Once you lower yourself into the barber’s chair and the cape is snuggly placed around your neck all power is out of your hands and bestowed upon the person who is launching themself at your head with a sharp object.  With one wrong flick of the wrist you can go from beauty queen to ogre; you can go from having two ears to one.  The worst thing you can do when entrusting your aesthetic appearance to another person is to piss them off!

It is very easy for me to envision something while someone else has a different perspective.  Apparently a ½ of an inch is not the same measurement to everyone.  (For purpose of explanation these two lessons go hand in hand.)  As I entered the salon today I was already feeling a bit apprehensive, however, after several arguments with myself in my head I quickly “checked in” and waited for my name, or fate, to be called.  Once my “stylist” (or so well refer to her as) asked what I wanted to do with my hair I began to explain: “I’m just here for a quick trim.  Maybe a ½ inch off the length and then my bangs trimmed back.  I’m growing my hair out so I’d really like to not take much off.”  This is where it all went wrong! 

Apparently this is what the “stylist” (still trying to think of a better name for her) heard: “I really would like a new hair style.  Maybe something longer in the front and a lot shorter in the back; not quite a bob but not quite a wedge.  I am trying to grow out my hair; however, I give up.  Just go ahead and cut it.”   (See where this is beginning to take a turn for the worst?)  Well, in the midst of all this miscommunication a chainsaw (my new word for the “stylists’” scissors) came out and my lovely locks were being chopped down faster than a tree standing in the way of an upcoming suburban home development.  You can only imagine what came next…….yep, you guessed it—a disaster!  As she spins me around (Which is another crazy thing—why are you not allowed to watch your “stylist” cut your hair? Why even have a 3x3 foot mirror if you aren’t going to use it? Seriously, even if you don’t like what they are doing what are you really going to say to a person who has a sharp object next to your face?)  and the color drains from my face. 

As I see my refection I see a person that has my face but not my hair!  What happened to my hair!?!  Not only did she cut my hair short in the back but the front is significantly shorter as well.   So now my ½ inch trim went to 3 inches off in the front and 5-6 in the back! Seriously, where did this “stylist” go to school?  Was she never taught to use a ruler?  Did she even really pass 3^rd grade or did she drop out before the measurement unit?

This takes me to my next “lesson.”  Not all people appreciate sarcasm.  After I finally got the look of death off my face I quickly gathered my belongings and headed to the register.  As my “stylist” (Satan) proceeded to swipe my credit card I was debating what to do about the “tip” situation.  I stared at the “tip” line and was dumbfounded as to what number I should enter.  Did I even need to enter a number at all?  I did have coin purse full of pennies!  As all of this was processing through my mind my mouth began to open and make a noise on its own; “Can I write down that I want to leave a negative tip amount?” (Ok so maybe this wasn’t exactly sarcasm, however, I definitely tried to play it off that way.)  I’m not sure if my “stylist” had the blank look on her face because she was in shock or because she is a closet serial killer who was about to take my life. Either way, I didn’t stick around long enough to find out.

If your hairdresser cannot schedule and appointment for you right away it’s probably a safe bet to just wait rather than find an alternative plan.  As always, hindsight is a bitch!  I suppose this whole traumatic situation can be blamed on the fact that I failed to plan in advance when I knew I needed my hair trimmed for an upcoming event. In my defense, I usually never have a problem getting an appointment right away and thus never think to call until I’m on my way to the salon.

In all lessons we learn in life there are two ways in which you can learn them: the easy way or the hard way.  In this case, I most definitely learned mine the hard way.  I guess at the end of the day it’s just hair and will eventually all grow back; in the meantime, are there any of my friends who own a hat shop?    

:o) Brit

The Curse of the Profit Women

Isn’t it ironic that certain traits woven through your double helix tend to be the ones that you pray you’d never inherit via your DNA? For me, this unfortunate luck of genetic code is what I like to call, “The Curse of the Profit Women.”  You see, I grew up in a family endowed with very boisterous, loud, strong willed, outgoing women and tried my best to be everything their not.  When you grow up in a family like this you know what it’s like to be embarrassed when confrontations occur; especially when the situation really doesn’t call for it.  You know exactly what it means to speak your mind without the skip of a beat.   I can recall several circumstances when I wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole at the mere sight of my mother or grandmothers’ mouth opening; with the “look” in their eye and the snap of their neck it was a sure sign that a storm was brewing and all in their path was inevitably going to experience the true denotation of a disaster zone.

Now that I’m older I’ve learn to embrace this “curse” and believe it to be one of my best qualities.  Those traits that the “Profit Women” held I had once prayed daily that they would never rub off on me, however, today I’m more than proud that they did.  If I could take just one thing from my childhood to keep with me for the rest of my life it would most definitely be the “curse,” for I’ve learned that it is not so much of a curse as it is a blessing in disguise. From a long line of Profit women I’ve inherited a strong, sometimes abrasive, personality—something I’m not ashamed of owning.   

I never back down from someone who is attempting to compromise my values and I never let anyone tell me what or how I should think.  I speak my mind daily and am not embarrassed when occasionally I speak before I think. (I guess it’s a good thing that 99% of the time I’m always right!)  I don’t back down from confrontation, rather I look it in the face, standing tall and proud.  I know the difference between being obnoxiously arrogant and that of not being afraid to speak out when you know for sure you’re not wrong.  I’m not afraid to ask questions when I don’t know the answer and I’m not afraid to admit that I don’t know everything.   I’m not afraid to intervene when someone is being mistreated. I am kind but not a “pushover.”

I know that I’m not always going to like everyone and I won’t pretend that I do. I do my best to avoid small talk with people whom I have nothing to say.  I stick to my word and never compromise my beliefs.  I know what I want and strive daily to obtain my goals and aspirations.  I never surround myself with people who try to change me or who give me ultimatums.  I believe that marriage a bond between two people who should still be able to hold onto their own identity. I vow to never lose my individuality.  I’ve learned that being honest and upfront isn’t always easy but its right.  I do all I can to stay positive and optimistic and surround myself with people who are the same.   I live to keep a smile on my face.

I realize that my personality isn’t the type for all to befriend and I’m ok with that.  I’m no longer embarrassed of my DNA structure; I’m actually quite humbled by it.  I’ve learned the importance of being you and not compromising that for anyone.  “The Curse of the Profit Women” is something I no longer fight as it is essentially embedded in my genetic make-up.  I will strive to change the “curse” to “courage” as I walk with my head high and continue to make my mark on the world.  

:o) Brit

Loving My Religion!

Have you ever been around a non “church-going” friend and mentioned you can’t do something on a Sunday morning because you’d be at church?  Ever notice the reaction on their face?  It’s like you’ve just told them that you believe there is life on Mars or that you’ve just witnessed aliens forming crop circles in a nearby field.  My point is that people often think that you’re from another planet because you are faithful to your religion—this is where I get beyond annoyed!

For me, my religion is what I “believe” in and my worship is what is best for me.  I’d never try to push it onto anyone else and I’d never judge someone when they believe something different than me.  Just because I practice a religion doesn’t mean that I’m not fun or can’t be the life of the party or furthermore am a “freak.”  I truly hate all of these preconceived notions that people who claim to be “religious” are hypocrites or “holier than thou”—this isn’t always the case.  

Yes, I consider myself to be a Christian.  Yes, I do things (not intentionally) that I know God isn’t always proud of me for and yes, I know (again, not intentionally) that I sin daily.  However, I know that God knows I’m not perfect, nor ever will be and even with this knowledge he still loves me unconditionally and helps me strive to be a better person.  I don’t believe that God loves me less because I enjoy a bottle of wine after work some evenings or have a few margaritas with the girls on the weekend.  I don’t feel that God loves me less because I saw a rated “R” movie last weekend at the cinema.  I don’t think that God loves me less because my views on abortion and homosexuality aren’t exactly what the Bible condones. I don’t think God loves me less because I sometimes don’t get to my daily devotions or haven’t memorized a new Bible verse.  I don’t think God loves me less because I like to go out every now and then and have a good time drinking and dancing with my friends.  I don’t think God loves me less because my husband and I lived “in sin” before we were married.  I don’t think God loves me less because I have non-Christian friends.   I don’t think that God loves me less because I sometimes am just too tied to get out of bed and therefore miss church.  I don’t think God loves me less because I have some hate in my heart (although, I really try not to). I don’t think God loves me less because some people I have yet to forgive.  I do, however, KNOW that God loves me in spite of all of my imperfections and this makes me want to be more God like. 

I believe that my love for God has made me the person I am today.  My smile, my funny jokes, my entertaining personality, my smile, my kind heart (towards most), my work ethics, my family values, my life goals, my never ending pursuit for success, my brilliant thoughts, my crazy laugh, my everything is all because of my love for God.  All of my perfections and imperfections are because of my constant never-ending love for Jesus and my many conversations with him daily are all in hope that he continues to make me a person he and everyone else loves to be around—imperfections and all.  

So, do me a favor; next time you are around a friend that mentions something about religion, please don’t let the “are you kidding me” look be an image that comes across your face.  They know that their religion isn’t for everyone and they aren’t trying to prove anything to you.  They know they aren’t perfect, and never claim to be.  However, they do know they are striving to be the best they can be and their religious views and beliefs help them to do that.  Please, just accept them for all the qualities you love about them and know that their thoughts, views and opinions on the subject matter is what makes them who they are.  Just as you have many different facets in your life that make you who you are, this is what makes them apart of who they are.

:o) Brit

The Blog That Started It All

Blogging.  It seems the entire planet has been blogging for years now and I’ve yet to catch up.  Many tell me that to blog is to admit your true emotions out loud (or in type); something that supposedly is quite liberating.  My response:  So why not just make an appointment with a shrink?   

My take on this whole phenomenon is that blogging is equivalent to adolescent diary writing which is equivalent to a grown up girls nights that start with a bottle of wine, or four, a pint of Ben & Jerry’s  and ends with man bashing. This, in return, is equivalent to venting to a complete stranger who now holds a piece of paper that he or she paid entirely too much for at a University which inevitably was the best four year party of their life. You are now being charged entirely too much to have someone “listen” and whom does a mediocre job at pretending to care just so you continue coming back and pay an endless amount of money to help them pay off their gigantic loan for the four year kegger.    On that note, here’s to blogging!

So how exactly do you start off your blog?  Do you go with the old, yet comforting, “Dear Diary” or would the politically correct term be “Dear Blog?”  And is this something that should be done daily in which I spew all of my deepest darkest secrets to the cyber world in hopes that someone can shed some light on my “earth shattering” dilemmas?  Or, rather, should it be something “meaningful” or “insightful” as to my views and opinions on worldly issues?  Are there rules to “blogging?” What about blogging etiquette?   Maybe, rather than starting a blog, I should start a book or website on how to blog or do they offer classes for this!?  (Is everyone’s first time blogging this overwhelming or is it just me?)

Well, here goes nothing-I’ve officially entered the world of blogging and already it’s proving to be quite the adventure.  I guess my promise to the cyber world is that I will do my best not to let my views and/or opinions get to deep or boring and I will do all I can to keep my “man bashing” to a minimum!  Let the blogging begin!

:o) Brit