Dear Miley Cyrus,
Hold on one second while I pull my jaw off the floor. I just finished watching your new music video "Can't be Tamed".
Ok. Better now. I proceed.
First off : WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS?!?!?!! Where are the adult figures in your life who can tell you that you are dressed like a whore and dancing and gyrating your hips like a trained call girl? And you're HOW OLD? Seventeen years old. Barely seventeen years old. YOU ARE NOT EVEN LEGAL YET!!!! I get it....your no longer Hannah Montana and you want to shed your 'good girl image' and all that and let me shake your hand because you not only shed that image, you're so far from an innocent and fresh faced teenage girl and are now a bonafied ass shaking, clevage baring, dance lapping pretty woman/Julie Roberts type wannabe. You want to be taken seriously as an "older and more mature" person....so instead of showing off your clavicle and protruding hip bones, why don't you use your brain instead. Show me your talent. Do you forget that 8, 9, 10 year old, impressionable little girls are looking to you as their inspiration and hero? You say its not your job to raise the youth of today, but you don't have much of a choice in it. You have more influence over these young minds than their parents. They see you dressed up like some bird with wings and boots that shouldn't be worn unless you are over the age of 50, talking about breaking free and not being held captive...ummm sweetheart. You are 17....technically you have no rights. Your parents could and SHOULD tell you what you can and can not do and you have to do it because, again, YOU ARE SEVENTEEN!!! Why do you want to grow up so fast? Why do you want to be seen as some sex symbol rather than inspiration in some other form? What happened to integrity and common sense? Where are you going to go from here? My heart breaks watching you pretend to be someone older than you are. My heart breaks for the millions of little girls asking their moms for thigh high boots and low cut shirts. They want to be beautiful. They see you as beautiful. Take some responsibility in your position of being a public figure and do something positive. Be someone positive. Dress like a whore later when you have been devirginized for more than 5 years. And please God tell me you are still a virigin, please. I don't know though...your parents don't seem to care much about what you do. Be patient. Take your time. Learn another language. Read a book. Go to college. Just please...please stop cheapening yourself to nothing more than some undressed, overpriveldged, doesn't know what the hell she is talking about whore. Because you aren't a whore.
PS--Christina Aguerla....ummm....yeah. I know you're older and such. But wow....your newest music video....wow. I think music videos should now be rated like TV shows. Because yours deserves to be on some playboy music video channel and not on a classic like VH-1 playing next to sweet little innocent Justin Beiber. (but lets face it...his sex tape is in the works and should make an appearance in like 5-8 years.)
That is all for now.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
The High Dive
I think I was probably 5....6 years old when I encountered the high dive. To me, it seemed to look ten stories into the sky. In fact, I think the air was thinner up there. I would go to the local pool and jump off the rinky dink diving board and look over at the highdive board and wish so much I had the guts to jump off. I would start out in line only to chicken out and leave for the baby board. I was frustrated with myself and call myself all sorts of cowardly names. Good lord the pressure on put on poor little me was a tad uncalled for but back then it was life or death. I HAD to jump. I had to do it. My little heart pounding I took to that line like I was David facing down Golith. I slowly climbed those steps. It might as well have been Mt. Everst the way I built it up in my head. I was breathing heavy, telling myself to jump. Just do it! Just do it! Everyone is watching. Don't be such a baby. You aren't going to die. I walked the plank/board to my doom. My little size 7 feet peeking over the corner of the board. The water below twinkled blue. Somewhere in the distance a coyote howled. That day was my first official panic attack. I couldn't breath. I couldn't do this. I couldn't jump off this board. Why was I up here? How did I get here? Get me down! Mommy! I looked behind me and saw the next person in line waiting to jump. I didn't want to appear to be a chicken so I looked back over the edge and took a deep breath and closed me eyes and......and.......I fell. I fell for what seemed like hours. I fell with no grace whatsoever. I hit that water like a brick. Holy crap did it hurt. I thought I had broken my head it hurt so bad. But I did it. I JUMPED! I took the plunge. I crained my head back in the deep end of the ocean and looked up at my mountain. I had done it. I jumped. Did I jump again? Umm...no. Tramatic enough for one day. But I did it again the next time with less fear until I was doing back flips off that high dive. Driving by that pool now on Tuttle I look at the "mountain" that I had so built up in my head. I think it's five feet. Its not even a high dive. But to my 6 year old mind, it was 30 feet in the air. All that freaking out over 5 feet. 5 feet....30 feet.....I jumped. I jumped into my fear and came out a champion. A wounded champion at that.
So.....here I stand. My toes creeping over the edge of my high dive. It seems endless, this jump. I seem so high off the ground. I've been standing here for years it seems. Decades and then some. I've seen this view for far too long. Its time to the plunge. It's time to let go. Am I brave enough to fall without grace into a place I've never been? What if it hurts? What if breaks me? How will I ever know without jumping? Its time to jump Becky. Jump. Do it. Let go. And when you do fall into your next life, you'll look up at this mountain and see that is was nothing more than a stepping stone....a small step into something so much more spectacular. All that freaking out over nothing. Because that is what this is.....this is nothing.
don't let nothing win.
So.....here I stand. My toes creeping over the edge of my high dive. It seems endless, this jump. I seem so high off the ground. I've been standing here for years it seems. Decades and then some. I've seen this view for far too long. Its time to the plunge. It's time to let go. Am I brave enough to fall without grace into a place I've never been? What if it hurts? What if breaks me? How will I ever know without jumping? Its time to jump Becky. Jump. Do it. Let go. And when you do fall into your next life, you'll look up at this mountain and see that is was nothing more than a stepping stone....a small step into something so much more spectacular. All that freaking out over nothing. Because that is what this is.....this is nothing.
don't let nothing win.
Monday, May 17, 2010
This is my thank you to you few
Very few people chose to enter the narrow path that leads to Becky. It's a scary road. A dark road. Many false entrances and many exits. Hidden pathways and scary noises. Often times there are detour signs leading the way back to where you came in. And when you finally do approach "Becky" often times there is a "No Vacancy" sign. There are a few have still chose to enter in, reguardless of my protests and my cold shoulder. These few people have burrowed deep into my chest and there they will forever remain. These few soliders have endured my breakdowns....my hermit like existence. They've seen me in times where I didn't even like to see myself. They've dealt with my silence with patience and always welcomed me home with arms wide enough for me to fall into. They've loved me back into reality and always defended my honor against myself. They've chosen to love the one who has resisted their love and who have recieved nothing in return. To these few people I say "Thank you". To these few I say "I'm sorry for falling short on my part." To these few people I say "I love you deeper than I could ever express or want to say".
To my mother....my true north.
My husband....my peace.
To my beloved Laney....my constant.
To these few people I say "I will let you down again. I will fall. I will turn away in hurt. Forgive me now for those times." To these few people I say you have walked by me through the hardest and deepest parts of me and never wavered. I may have felt alone but I've never been alone. I may have looked around seen only my shadow but that's because you were my light. I may have hurt you in the process through it all but you have hidden your pain for my healing. I am not worthy of you or what you offer to me daily. Words can't possibly be enough to say what it is my heart feels for you. But please know that what I feel for you has no explanations. There are no reasons nor boundaries. You have proven yourself time and time again. I hope to be your safe place to fall when life is pulling you down. I may be small in stature but my inner strength could tear down the tigers in your life. I wont let you go. I need you too much. I love you too much. You are all my heart wishes and hopes for. You are beautiful beyond description and I'm truly blessed to have each of you in my heart and in my life.
To you few I say "Thank you....You are why I am here"
To my mother....my true north.
My husband....my peace.
To my beloved Laney....my constant.
To these few people I say "I will let you down again. I will fall. I will turn away in hurt. Forgive me now for those times." To these few people I say you have walked by me through the hardest and deepest parts of me and never wavered. I may have felt alone but I've never been alone. I may have looked around seen only my shadow but that's because you were my light. I may have hurt you in the process through it all but you have hidden your pain for my healing. I am not worthy of you or what you offer to me daily. Words can't possibly be enough to say what it is my heart feels for you. But please know that what I feel for you has no explanations. There are no reasons nor boundaries. You have proven yourself time and time again. I hope to be your safe place to fall when life is pulling you down. I may be small in stature but my inner strength could tear down the tigers in your life. I wont let you go. I need you too much. I love you too much. You are all my heart wishes and hopes for. You are beautiful beyond description and I'm truly blessed to have each of you in my heart and in my life.
To you few I say "Thank you....You are why I am here"
Thursday, April 8, 2010
It's been a while
So sorry to keep you in suspense. You know where you think you have all the time in the world and you go to bed on a Monday and you wake up and its Sunday? Time flies. You always hear that as a wee lad/ladess but its not until you grow old and arthritic that you truly understand what that saying means.
Since our last meeting, I fled the state of Florida and found refuge in San Antonio Texas. I was there for approximatly 44 hours, give or take. Exhastion. Flying home from Texas I actually did not go to sleep-we got home at 1:00am and I went straight to work. Whilst driving my tired ass to the land of Sarasota Memorial, I had to ask myself: What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? GO TO BED!!!
I proceed. I could tell you all about how quaint and pretty Texas was. How amazing Center Stage BBQ was and that the size of the potatos were quadruple the size as the potatos here. But no. I will tell you about the flight to and from. Lets talk proper flying etiquette:
A) Smell good. Please. Spray a little perfume/cologne on either wrist or behind the ear-whatever. Please. I don't want to feel my previous meal lingering behind my dangling punching bag, dying to break free due to your stench. Its not too much to ask.
B) SHUT UP! Please. I don't want to talk to you. I have my earbuds in and listening to my amazing music or I may have my nose in a book finding out whether or not Elizabeth will end up with Mr Darcy-not to give any endings away BUT SHE DOES! *Swoon*. If any liquid is creeping its way out of the corner of my mouth and my eyes are closed, please don't take this as an inviation to converse with me about your present job or that you had killer chinese food at the new resturant that opened up in your town-I DO NOT CARE! I don't care to talk to you when not on a plane-how much more hellacious is it for me to trapped next to you in a tin can flying thousands of miles off the ground and have nowhere to escape from you? Next time I'll wear a shirt that says "I don't pee in your swimming pool so please don't talk to me"
C) Please please PLEASE take a shadooby BEFORE you get on the plane. Have you seen the bathrooms on a plane? They are the size of my left nostrill. SMALL! And if you haven't followed step A you've already stunk up the small vestibule because of poor ventilation and no place for you odorous odor to escape to. Now-multiple the stench of yourself and multiple it by a million and that is the smell in which you leave us with when you poopey in the bathroom of our flying machine. Its just selfish. Not to mention VILE and DISGUSTING! I don't want to go into the bathroom after you and need to vomit as well as pee-what then? Do I vomit AFTER I pee? What if i can't control my throw up and need to throw up mid-pee and end up puking all over my brand new white Mossimo T-shirt?!?! How will I get that stain out?! So please. Take an extra ten minutes before bording and lose a couple pounds in the airport restrooms.
D) If your family/friends/boyfriend/girlfriend-whoever-is across the aisle from you and you feel the need to converse in a conversation about the new Nicholas Sparks book (who reads that crap!?!?! Never trust a Nicholas Sparks lover) then please...PLEASE...please do not proceed to yell at your partner in crime about how your thrown into depression because some character is tragically killed on their way to confess their undying love for someone. There's the cute little thing I did in second grade called note passing. I did it because we weren't allowed to talk in Mrs Peachy's room and dang it i wanted to ask the person if they liked Jason (check yes/no/maybe). It was risky to notepass. What if one got caught?!?! Then your secrets would become public knowledge and the whole class would know that you were in love with so and so. I had to be sneaky. I had to be daring. I felt like 99 in Get Smart. Quickly I would toss the note onto the desk of my neighbor. I would feel instant relief and a little bit of deviousness-haha Mrs Peachy. I passed a note without you knowing! So I say to you, fellow airplane traveler who talks loudly to the mother the next aisle over, please take out a peice of notebook paper and a thing we call a pen (no you can not download a pen on your Iphone) and write down your little tidbits of knowledge and then pass the note over. Simple. Easy. And no one got hurt. Lease of all my ears and nerves listening to your obnoxiously loud voice.
So....everyone got it? If you ever travel with me, please print this out as a reference and we should be good to go.
Sincerly,
Becky
Since our last meeting, I fled the state of Florida and found refuge in San Antonio Texas. I was there for approximatly 44 hours, give or take. Exhastion. Flying home from Texas I actually did not go to sleep-we got home at 1:00am and I went straight to work. Whilst driving my tired ass to the land of Sarasota Memorial, I had to ask myself: What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? GO TO BED!!!
I proceed. I could tell you all about how quaint and pretty Texas was. How amazing Center Stage BBQ was and that the size of the potatos were quadruple the size as the potatos here. But no. I will tell you about the flight to and from. Lets talk proper flying etiquette:
A) Smell good. Please. Spray a little perfume/cologne on either wrist or behind the ear-whatever. Please. I don't want to feel my previous meal lingering behind my dangling punching bag, dying to break free due to your stench. Its not too much to ask.
B) SHUT UP! Please. I don't want to talk to you. I have my earbuds in and listening to my amazing music or I may have my nose in a book finding out whether or not Elizabeth will end up with Mr Darcy-not to give any endings away BUT SHE DOES! *Swoon*. If any liquid is creeping its way out of the corner of my mouth and my eyes are closed, please don't take this as an inviation to converse with me about your present job or that you had killer chinese food at the new resturant that opened up in your town-I DO NOT CARE! I don't care to talk to you when not on a plane-how much more hellacious is it for me to trapped next to you in a tin can flying thousands of miles off the ground and have nowhere to escape from you? Next time I'll wear a shirt that says "I don't pee in your swimming pool so please don't talk to me"
C) Please please PLEASE take a shadooby BEFORE you get on the plane. Have you seen the bathrooms on a plane? They are the size of my left nostrill. SMALL! And if you haven't followed step A you've already stunk up the small vestibule because of poor ventilation and no place for you odorous odor to escape to. Now-multiple the stench of yourself and multiple it by a million and that is the smell in which you leave us with when you poopey in the bathroom of our flying machine. Its just selfish. Not to mention VILE and DISGUSTING! I don't want to go into the bathroom after you and need to vomit as well as pee-what then? Do I vomit AFTER I pee? What if i can't control my throw up and need to throw up mid-pee and end up puking all over my brand new white Mossimo T-shirt?!?! How will I get that stain out?! So please. Take an extra ten minutes before bording and lose a couple pounds in the airport restrooms.
D) If your family/friends/boyfriend/girlfriend-whoever-is across the aisle from you and you feel the need to converse in a conversation about the new Nicholas Sparks book (who reads that crap!?!?! Never trust a Nicholas Sparks lover) then please...PLEASE...please do not proceed to yell at your partner in crime about how your thrown into depression because some character is tragically killed on their way to confess their undying love for someone. There's the cute little thing I did in second grade called note passing. I did it because we weren't allowed to talk in Mrs Peachy's room and dang it i wanted to ask the person if they liked Jason (check yes/no/maybe). It was risky to notepass. What if one got caught?!?! Then your secrets would become public knowledge and the whole class would know that you were in love with so and so. I had to be sneaky. I had to be daring. I felt like 99 in Get Smart. Quickly I would toss the note onto the desk of my neighbor. I would feel instant relief and a little bit of deviousness-haha Mrs Peachy. I passed a note without you knowing! So I say to you, fellow airplane traveler who talks loudly to the mother the next aisle over, please take out a peice of notebook paper and a thing we call a pen (no you can not download a pen on your Iphone) and write down your little tidbits of knowledge and then pass the note over. Simple. Easy. And no one got hurt. Lease of all my ears and nerves listening to your obnoxiously loud voice.
So....everyone got it? If you ever travel with me, please print this out as a reference and we should be good to go.
Sincerly,
Becky
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Dreams and aspirations
Jiminy Crickett started it all : "When you wish upon a star makes no difference who you are. Anything your heart desires will come true". Who knew that an innocent looking green bodied insect could cause such distress in one's life? Because I, being the naive and innocent five year old watching the beloved wooden boy, truly believed that when you looked up into the wild blue yonder and found that lucky star on which to wish upon IT WOULD HAPPEN! So wish I did. I wished for a pony. No pony. I wished for a big brother whom could beat up all the monsters under my bed. No big brother. I wished for a huge gumball machine in my bedroom. NO FREAKING GUMBALL MACHINE! Who was this Jiminy Crickett and why did he lie to me? Distrust and misgivings were planted in my little heart. I wanted to believe that there was a blue fairy that could turn me into a princess like she did the stupid wooden boy who got swallowed by a whale. But did my blue fairy show up? NO! So at a young age I gave up on the "Star light star bright first star I see tonight" load of crap. Jiminy was a liar and dreams were unattinable.
Now....what am I? 27 now? Holy crap. 27. When I was that small five year old I thought "When I'm such and such an age I"ll be this" or "I want to accomplish this goal by the time I'm X amount of years old". Have I done any of them?!??! Not hardly. Now I'm just a small twenty seven year old thinking "Holy batmobile Robin what have I done with my life?!?!!" Let's think: What have I done with my life? Presently, I bagged myself a pretty stellar husband (his arms is still mending from all the twisiting I had to do to finally get down on one knee-GOD WHY DID HE MAKE IT SO HARD!!) I'm raising the most amazing doggie whom loves me with a love I have felt from no other. I broke in my new Aasics which is a HUGE milestone in the shoe industry. There's nothing worse than a pinched toe while running. I can drive stick shift. I have a pretty amazing assortment of music on my IPOD. But when it comes to like dreams and goals....hmmm.....I don't have many check marks on my list of things I want to do. And that leaves me with a sense of loss and disappointment in myself. I wake up, hit the snooze and think "Really???!!!" I know adults think "Is this all there is?!?!" I think Stacie Orrico sang it best in her hit "There's gotta be more to life" but I can't really take Ms Orrico seriously when she sings it because umm...hello Stacie??!! You have like 5 CD's under your belt and dollar bills in the bank with your name written all over it. Come on. What's gotta be more to YOUR life?
So I bring this blog to an end with no resolution really. I'm floating around on a sea of restlessness and downtroddenness (its a word!) I need to get my ass into gear and accomplish ONE thing in the next few weeks. Maybe I'll finally break out some kitchen appliances that I got as wedding gifts and crack open a reciepe book (ok go BUY a reciepe book) and make a dinner from scratch. Or maybe I should start smaller. Don't need to jump into something so big as cooking a dinner--that sort of task seems insermountable and when I don't actually meet that goal I'll be left feeling more crappy about myself. Maybe I"ll start out with.....filing my nails and not bite them. For one day. Ok...maybe 1/2 a day. Ok I wont bite my nails for an entire work shift. At least the first four hours. Yeah...that's what I'll do. Not bite my nails for the first four hours of my shift. Four hours....without my nails on which to take my aggresion out on...scared! *presently biting my nails in terror* Ok...so I'll start out at two and work my way up.
I feel better already!
Sincerly,
Becky
Now....what am I? 27 now? Holy crap. 27. When I was that small five year old I thought "When I'm such and such an age I"ll be this" or "I want to accomplish this goal by the time I'm X amount of years old". Have I done any of them?!??! Not hardly. Now I'm just a small twenty seven year old thinking "Holy batmobile Robin what have I done with my life?!?!!" Let's think: What have I done with my life? Presently, I bagged myself a pretty stellar husband (his arms is still mending from all the twisiting I had to do to finally get down on one knee-GOD WHY DID HE MAKE IT SO HARD!!) I'm raising the most amazing doggie whom loves me with a love I have felt from no other. I broke in my new Aasics which is a HUGE milestone in the shoe industry. There's nothing worse than a pinched toe while running. I can drive stick shift. I have a pretty amazing assortment of music on my IPOD. But when it comes to like dreams and goals....hmmm.....I don't have many check marks on my list of things I want to do. And that leaves me with a sense of loss and disappointment in myself. I wake up, hit the snooze and think "Really???!!!" I know adults think "Is this all there is?!?!" I think Stacie Orrico sang it best in her hit "There's gotta be more to life" but I can't really take Ms Orrico seriously when she sings it because umm...hello Stacie??!! You have like 5 CD's under your belt and dollar bills in the bank with your name written all over it. Come on. What's gotta be more to YOUR life?
So I bring this blog to an end with no resolution really. I'm floating around on a sea of restlessness and downtroddenness (its a word!) I need to get my ass into gear and accomplish ONE thing in the next few weeks. Maybe I'll finally break out some kitchen appliances that I got as wedding gifts and crack open a reciepe book (ok go BUY a reciepe book) and make a dinner from scratch. Or maybe I should start smaller. Don't need to jump into something so big as cooking a dinner--that sort of task seems insermountable and when I don't actually meet that goal I'll be left feeling more crappy about myself. Maybe I"ll start out with.....filing my nails and not bite them. For one day. Ok...maybe 1/2 a day. Ok I wont bite my nails for an entire work shift. At least the first four hours. Yeah...that's what I'll do. Not bite my nails for the first four hours of my shift. Four hours....without my nails on which to take my aggresion out on...scared! *presently biting my nails in terror* Ok...so I'll start out at two and work my way up.
I feel better already!
Sincerly,
Becky
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Don't let your children grow up to be a whore
Besides my passion and zeal for needlepointing and crockpotting (ha!) I have another passion in life that leaves me foaming at the mouth everytime I go to any public forum and that is teenage/preteen girls and the fact that they are DRESSED LIKE PROSTITUTES!!! WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS?!?! WHERE IS YOUR POLLY POCKET ACTION FIGURE?!?! WHY DO YOUR SHORTS HAVE LESS MATERIAL THAN MY PURSE?!?!! Whatever happened to the days of putting on something and your parents sending you back to your room because your skirt didn't hit below your knees? Or going to the library with a parental figure and checking out the newest Babysitter's Club Book? (MaryAnn was my absolute favorite ecspecially when she got her hair cut and all new clothes!) Now a days girls come out of the womb naked and NEVER ACTUALLY PUT CLOTHES ON!!! They walk around with their preboobies/boobies hanging out their nonexistent shirts and their butts stuffed into too tight shorts that are barely covering their behinds. I DO NOT GET IT! Dean literally has to hold me back from running up with a sleeping bag to cover these mini-soontobe Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and telling them to go Build-A-Bear and proceed to go home and watch NickJr. But what really gets me is THE PARENTS!! OR LACK OF THERE OF!! WHY DO YOU LET YOUR DAUGHTERS DRESS WITH NO CLOTHES ON?!? WHY DO YOU LET THEM GO OUT OF THE HOUSE NAKED?!?! Don't you know that little boys are salivating at the mouth and older men are thinking naughty thoughts that shouldn't be in their disgusting vile minds?? Don't you instill in your daughers a sense of individuality and self confidence that they don't have to dress like the hollister maniquins or show their pretty little tushies off to feel good about themselves? (For the record, my children will NEVER spend a PENNY at Hollister. I hate that store. Its of the devil. And its so dark and loud and smells like sex)
I proceed. I look around in life and everyday I point things out to myself, Riley, Dean, my mother, the milkman or paperboy (pretty much anyone who pretends they are listening to me) and I tell them "My children will not do such and such" or "My children will not wear such and such". Case and point. I was at Target the other day and thought that Target was a safe bet on appropiate attire. But then my eye came across this travisty: What the hell is this? Elastic jeans that are made for a child but put in the JR section so that JR sized women think they are inadequate because they can't fit into the elastic peice of crap "jean".
NO NORMAL HUMAN BEING OVER THE AGE OF CONCEPTION SHOULD BE ABLE TO FIT INTO THESE JEANS!!! What is wrong with America?!?!! Why aren't we reading more about Betsy Ross or Eleanor Roosevelt instead of immersing ourselves in whether or not Brad and Angelina are still together this week and what length Kate Gosselin's hair is?!? COME ON PEOPLE! (myself included!!) WHAT GOES IN COMES OUT! And what is coming out is showing up in todays youth. There's my rant. I pity my children. I really do. They don't have a snowballs chance in hell. They really don't. And I pray and plead already that God ordains my eggs to meet male sperm because if I ever see a sonagram of my beautiful womb and the tech says "Congratulations! Its a girl", I will literally not know what to do. I'm terrifed of girls! With a boy you give them a bat and if they make contact with the ball they feel good about themselves. That's easy. That's fun. But a girl...oh my LORD i'm terrifed. Any other woman can raise beautiful wonderful self-sufficient girls who will grow up and change the world, but ME?!?!?! I'll probably give my daughter a complex in the womb of not being good enough because of something I ate or didn't eat. Thank God for Dean. Dean's normal. He should raise of future children.
*sigh*
All this said: Parents-don't let your daughters grow up to be whores.
Thank you and goodnight.
Sincerly,
Becky
Monday, March 15, 2010
Lazy
You know what drives me nuts? Well a lot of things. Many things really. I think I'm more annoyed in life than I am carefree. I chalk it up to the fact that I worked in the resturant business for like a decade. When you work in the resturant business you see the evilness of people. In the beginning I would care that your steak wasn't cooked to your liking Mr Smith. But after like, a year of listening to people complain about the most ridiculous petty things I stopped caring. I truly did. I could be running towards the kitchen with my hand on fire and some idiot would stop me to say "My steak was a little tough honey. Granted I ate it all but I'm just not feeling completely satisified". My mouth would say "I'll go get my manager. So sorry about the prime rib being a little too tough for your taste. That's so sad" when really my mind was saying "Suck it up cheapass. You ate the whole thing so it obviously wasn't as bad as you are saying. You want a free dinner and therefore are going to wreck me out of a decent tip". Towards the end of my career of serving people I had been yelled at, picked on (customer: "Are you sure you're old enough to be working here?" me: " No ma'am. I'm not sure. I just walked in from selling girls scout cookies and thought I could make a few bucks by kissing your rude behind") I had been brought to tears, and I literally lost my humanity. I turned in my apron and delicious assortment of colored pens and paper and walked out truly not liking people. Call me heartless. Call me mean. But if you judge my poor behavior and you have never been a server then I dare you to work for 6 months and get crapped on everyday and we'll see how you walk out of it all :) Or go work with Heather in pretesting for a week and see people at their finest: YES FILL OUT THE FORM! YES I KNOW YOU WERE JUST HERE! I DO NOT CARE! FILL OUT THE FORM! BRING YOUR OWN PAIR OF SCISSORS AND CUT OFF YOUR NASTY ARM BAND! I DO NOT WANT YOUR DEAD SKIN CELLS ANYWHERE NEAR MY FLAWLESS EPADERMIS!!
So i say all that to come back to my original thought: People are lazy. While parking in the Publix parking lot today to get ice cream and plastic forks for Dean (weird I know but whatever) I see laziness at its finest. It never fails that everytime I go to a parking lot there is some lazy person behind a wheel who will hold up a line of traffic for the parking place four spots closer to the Publix entrance rather than have a parking spot right away but is FOUR SPOTS FURTHER BEHIND! Don't people understand that the time it takes to wait for the old person to back out of their precious closer to the entrance parking space, they would already be IN publix if they just would have parked a LITTLE FURTHER BEHIND! And I, in turn, would not have to wait needlessly for you to get that sacred parking spot. LAZY! People are lazy.
Why can't people be perfect like me?
Sincerly,
Becky
So i say all that to come back to my original thought: People are lazy. While parking in the Publix parking lot today to get ice cream and plastic forks for Dean (weird I know but whatever) I see laziness at its finest. It never fails that everytime I go to a parking lot there is some lazy person behind a wheel who will hold up a line of traffic for the parking place four spots closer to the Publix entrance rather than have a parking spot right away but is FOUR SPOTS FURTHER BEHIND! Don't people understand that the time it takes to wait for the old person to back out of their precious closer to the entrance parking space, they would already be IN publix if they just would have parked a LITTLE FURTHER BEHIND! And I, in turn, would not have to wait needlessly for you to get that sacred parking spot. LAZY! People are lazy.
Why can't people be perfect like me?
Sincerly,
Becky
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Why is Becky blogging?
In a world where people post WAAAAY too much information about themselves (things I do not want to hear and things I could give two shits about) you may be asking yourself "Why self? Why is Becky taking a gander at penning her thoughts down in cyberworld?" Well friends, the answer is simple: I'm funny. I really am. I don't say that with any sort of ego or false hope-its just a fact. Becky is short. Becky has brown hair. Becky's dog is Riley. Becky is funny. Its as if God Himself came down and touched my funnybone Himself thats how good I am. And honestly, its selfish of me to withhold all my awesomeness with just the select few people in my life. So here I am world. Embrace me. Enjoy me. I am here.
What will I blog about you may be wondering? But really you can't ask such a question. It's like asking Rachel Ray what she is making for dinner-she's so good she doesn't come up with a reciepe or plan-its just comes to her because she's genius! Inspiration comes to me in forms of people, thoughts, and life expierence and to say I am going to write about a certain thing boxes me in and frankly, my supreem being can not be put into a corner-I have wings Charlie. I need to fly (Rosie Perez-It Could Happen to You-great movie even if you hate Nicholas Cage which I sorta do although I loved National Treasure but I wouldn't even give him the credit for my passion of archelogical digging and treasure finding) SEE! See how my mind works? See how amazing I am? I am on one thought and I go off on another like a rollercoaster of Becky goodness. And that's what I will be for you dear people-your conductor on the rollercoaster of my life. I will share with you my knowledge and expierences that happen to me on a daily basis. Crazy things that happen at work and my distaste for people in general. My wonderful eccentric husband and all his weirdness and dance moves. I will let you in on the most amazing pereson in my life-my dog. She will rock your socks off-even those little ankle socks that are tough to get off because of the elastic banding that the makers so wisely invested time and money into. I will tell you stories that will shrink your balls to the size of raisins. So fasten your seatbelts kids. The adventure is just beginning.
Sincerly,
Becky
What will I blog about you may be wondering? But really you can't ask such a question. It's like asking Rachel Ray what she is making for dinner-she's so good she doesn't come up with a reciepe or plan-its just comes to her because she's genius! Inspiration comes to me in forms of people, thoughts, and life expierence and to say I am going to write about a certain thing boxes me in and frankly, my supreem being can not be put into a corner-I have wings Charlie. I need to fly (Rosie Perez-It Could Happen to You-great movie even if you hate Nicholas Cage which I sorta do although I loved National Treasure but I wouldn't even give him the credit for my passion of archelogical digging and treasure finding) SEE! See how my mind works? See how amazing I am? I am on one thought and I go off on another like a rollercoaster of Becky goodness. And that's what I will be for you dear people-your conductor on the rollercoaster of my life. I will share with you my knowledge and expierences that happen to me on a daily basis. Crazy things that happen at work and my distaste for people in general. My wonderful eccentric husband and all his weirdness and dance moves. I will let you in on the most amazing pereson in my life-my dog. She will rock your socks off-even those little ankle socks that are tough to get off because of the elastic banding that the makers so wisely invested time and money into. I will tell you stories that will shrink your balls to the size of raisins. So fasten your seatbelts kids. The adventure is just beginning.
Sincerly,
Becky
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