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

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

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

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