What? Really? How?

So one of my most hilarious friends at work told me a story today of human brilliance in action. This isn’t a story she heard from someone that told it to someone else. This is an actual witnessed story. First hand. I am pretty sure it changed her life….maybe not but she will think of this occurrence every time she comes to a roundabout for the rest of her life. So here we go. Big breath in, and out….So my friend Courtney was driving in her rental car…that’s another story for another time, and came across one of the more exciting events during a drive around town; a roundabout. They are fun due to the fact that it feels like you are on a race track cause your car is tilted and you don’t have to stop. You can legally run the imaginable stop sign. So the layout of a roundabout here in the grand ole US is as you enter the track, they guide you to the right. If you attempt to turn left, you will run over the curb and make various crunching, cracking scrapping noises with the bottom of your vehicle. So there for, it’s impossible to go left….that’s what I thought and that’s what Courtney thought till she witness something remarkable; a two way two lane round about. Ok ok, there is no such thing, but one of the world’s greatest minds thought there was. Here she was at the entrance of the bout, witnessing a person attempting to go left in a roundabout. He/she creped to the right of the road going against traffic trying to get to the other side. Moving slowly and cautiously which I give him/her credit for. If you are going to do something illegal, do it carefully. But still, what a crazy person. First of all if he/she was trying to get to the opposite side faster….this makes him/her even more intelligent….it’s the same distance if you go right or if you COULD go left. Still the same distance. Secondly, he/she is an idiot. That’s all. It just made me laugh and I feel sorry that every time she goes to a roundabout, Courtney will have to be reminded of this brilliant human being.

99 bottles of beer on the wall

I am ever so grateful for the word of wisdom. Some see it as a barrier and cage that doesn’t allow one to act and make their own decisions concerning what they will consume; while others like myself see it as a guidance to a happier, more freedom like lifestyle. It prevents addiction. Not all types, but it helps. It amazes me what addictions can do to one’s life and the life of those he or she loves. Lindsey Lohan for example keeps popping up on the radar with her most recent stint being; she missed a court appearance to frolic around France and watch movies at the Cannes festival. Apparently she has a drinking problem too….ok she is a flat out alcoholic! Her punishment now is to wear a monitoring device that measures the blood alcohol levels in her sweat. Wow, she can’t do a thing without having someone know about it. Sounds like freedom to me. I always have had issues with people that argue against the word of wisdom. Regardless of what religion or sect you belong or believe in, they all have their beliefs on what should or should not be consumed by the body, so please don’t even start smacking the LDS religion because there are hundreds, probably thousands of sects that believe in taking care of your bodies in some way or another. Off my soap box one step, I still, to reiterate my beginning point, can’t believe that the word of wisdom is often seen as a barrier and restraint. It actually provides us freedom to choose and grants us control of our own bodies. Lindsey has a tracking devise that monitors her addiction. An addiction which she chose to live by which now runs her life. That sounds like freedom to me. I would love to be controlled by a man made substance that is composed of empty calories and drugs. Great, sounds fun….I will keep my agency to choose instead now that I think about it. Thanks though.

Knock Knock. Who’s th….INTERUPTING COW!

First of all, I have noticed that I have a lot of blogs about me complaining about people and society so I will attempt to do better at writing about funny or not so whiny type topics but I can’t guarantee anything.



So my new complaint, as anyone can figure out by my title, is people that interrupt me. Not just once or twice accidently, because I myself interrupt occasionally as well, but the continuous interrupters. It’s like they get joy from making me sound like a mumbling, bumbling (I had no idea that bumbling is an actual word! I thought for sure spell check would squiggle red line it! Wow) idiot. When I talk it means I am telling you something you need to know. Not that I think it’s important, but that I know you need to know this so shut up and listen for 2 seconds…ok maybe 3. Is that too much to ask? Plus if you think about it logically, every time you interrupt me, I am going to take two steps back and reiterate what I just told you while you were twiddling your thumbs thinking of how you can stop me from talking just to hear your own voice. Just an FYI, if I say something you don’t like, I probably have a reason behind it so let me finish my sentence before you jump down my throat and make me start over making you furious. Communication is vital and in this green world today, it’s nonstop…via electronics. This is the issue of interrupting. No one knows how to communicate face to face or verbal to verbal. Twitter, Facebook (I thought for sure Facebook would be a real word but my computer just red squiggle lined it) and texting….have ruined the interpersonal relationship etiquette that our ancestors built up from the ashes. As I watch and read novels such as Jane Eyre or Pride and Prejudice, I ponder every time, “what if we spoke this elegant today?” I believe it would instantly solve problems already addressed by my mumbling mouth. Society would have better manners, including not interrupting others while speaking face to face to mention one. I am guilty of everything I have mentioned above except for twitter. I text, I facebook, I interrupt, but there is moderation in all things. That’s the key word! MODERATION. I am not perfect, you are not perfect. I interrupt, and I like to think I apologize for doing so, but please please please don’t do it on purpose all the time. Just relax, I will get to my point shortly….longer if you keep interrupting me.

Hilarious Coincidence

It was raining today…surprise surprise. I had just pulled up to work in a not close, but not far away parking spot. As luck has it, my lovely blue umbrella is not in the car. So I prepare to dash. After I gather all my necessary items for the day, I make a break for it. Walking briskly, I arrive at the entry door. Being the good citizen that I am, I wait for the two other ladies walking through the shower. They have two umbrellas. So I open the door for them, they thank me. The first kind woman closes her water shield before entering the building. The next lady has her arms full with items unknown to me. She enters the building with her shield open and I jokingly remark, “You know that’s bad luck”. Then it happens. After I uttered the last syllable, she drops everything in her arms. The unknown to me is now revealed. Soup. It explodes in her paper bag that was transporting the soup to a safe place prior to the hilarious, ironic explosion. I felt terrible but they laughed, I laughed. Moral of the story, listen to those lucky myths. If you don’t they will come back to haunt you.

The Death Penalty

This delightful Sunday afternoon, Brian and I were enjoying a charming, humorous episode of Bones. We were enjoying the quirky remarks of the hidden love between the two protagonists; Ms. Brennian Bones and Mr. Seely Booth, when suddenly something about the episode made me jolt and think, “I have to blog about this.” Dog fighting and murder by dog. I am sure this wasn’t the title of the episode, but that single sentence is a good summary of the 43 minutes that I was thinking about this.  A man was involved in dog fighting, which in its self is one of the must inhuman, ritualistic showings of sought after power between men (men symbolizing all man kind) all shown though avataristic dogs. The way these dogs perform is symbolistic of the strong, powerful men that sit back at watch their bravery on stage play out. Of course I am displaying a number of examples of sarcasm and now that I have stepped up on my soap box, I will take one step down…because my soap box is multiple levels. Now this is a gloomy but important introduction in to my real topic, murder by dog. Dogs are here to please their master, and in this episode a dog was pleasing his master and obeying orders when he was ordered to attack a man who was going to turn in his master’s dog fighting business. The man died. He was murdered by the master. The murder weapon….the dog.  Once the murder was solved, the dog was killed; the man was planted in prison. The dog dies, the man lives….OK??  Where in the book of logic does this make a lick of sense?  A loyal and obedient canine, not knowing right from wrong, is put to death just because no one wants to give him the chance to kill again, yet when with out a shadow of a doubt we know man murders man, either the sentence is prison for to short of time or death row which then results in two endings; release or decades of parole hearings until it’s just been too long to sentence the murderer. I have come to realize life isn’t fair, equal and sometimes, flat out cruel. But this just pisses me off. The same day the dog is killed for our protection and the man goes on living and breathing the air that should only be breathed to those that obey the laws of conscience.  I am still on my soap box about those sadistic people, I will not call them parents,  they weren’t. But they killed that father’s 5 year old son with no sympathy and they still live. Give it 20 years, they still will be here breathing my air and yours, eating my food and yours and using our money to live. 

Thank you for Manners

When I was a young lass, my parents taught me some vital things; please, thank you, no thank you and patience. It’s obvious that a lot of parents have failed in that department of to dos with their children. Rather than teaching and setting an example in manners, parents have been teaching their children how to be mean, rude and disrespectful. Ok ok that’s not the intent of the parents but that’s what ends up happening. I don’t have children of my own, but I have a minor in children studies and a major in their learning behavior. I know what I am talking about. They as in children, learn by example. So for heaven sakes; be a GOOD example. It seems like the terms please and thank you are a lost art. No one uses them anymore and it’s a shame. I know it’s hard, I know you feel dumb but you look dumb when you are mean so what would you rather do, feel dumb or look it. Trust me you would rather feel it. When you say “manner words”, and not in a sarcastic tone, it calms you down. It feels good. So say them even if there is a long line at the checkout, or ask a teller to do something nicely. Don’t demand it. That’s not what Sesame Street taught you. Life is hectic, fast and overwhelming. But things aren’t going to get done any faster if you demand them to get done and complain about how long it’s taking. Patience is a virtue; learn it, live it, love it. Ok that was cheesy but again, for heaven’s sake! Life will go smoother, easier and will be less stressful if you understand that things sometimes take time and if you are willing to wait, they may even be accomplished faster than if you demand them to be done. We know you have to go buy a burger and you want to beat the other lethargic people to the drive through, but trust me I am doing you a favor. So if someone is explaining something to you in detail, let them explain, they know you are in a hurry and aren’t trying to make you late, they are helping you the best they can. Don’t interrupt either, it’s rude. Ask your grandma if you don’t trust me, it is. You are not right all the time, it’s okay to be wrong, you are human. Take it in stride, stop being so prideful. And next time your kids are around sit down and watch Mr. Rogers or Sesame Street. You might learn something…might…as long as you have patience to watch it.

I hope they rot in hell

***This post has some vulgarity in it sorry, they were the only words I could find to describe the individuals***

As most of you are aware, there was a sick and heart wrenching incident over the weekend.  A young 4 year old boy was here in Utah to visit his mom and stay with her for the summer. He didn’t want to come, he wanted to stay with his loving daddy, but due to visiting rights, he unfortunately was here to visit. This bitch of a mom had a jack ass for a boy friend, now husband. The jackass violated, hurt, abused and tortured this innocent child and the bitch, which sickens me even more, stood by, watched helped and tried to hide it. How in the world could you watch your son, the boy who you gave life to and carried in your womb for 9 months, be put through these events. I don't understand. I won’t go into the details of the incident because I am sure most are aware what I am referring too, but I just want to vent about how these type of people sicken me, make me feel anger like I haven’t felt before and although I am not their maker there for am not their judge, wish they may rot in hell for eternity. I know we have repentance and agency and this is why I am human and not there to decide how they shall spend eternity, but all I can hope for is that they suffer more terribly than we can imagine. I know that’s harsh and Christ is so much more sympathetic, which I am grateful for because I have my faults as well, but it’s a humanistic trait. I don’t understand it, I won’t while I am here, all I can express is my disgust and promise my self never ever  to treat my children or any other human in this manner during my short life. We watch these csi, bones and other murder shows and it doesn’t seem real that humans can treat other humans with so much disrespect, but when it happens “for real”, in your area, reality hits. When it happens to an innocent, perfect child, I get emotional. Just imaging the pain and suffering this young boy went through….I don’t know. It’s hard. But he no longer has to worry about what will happen next. He is home, watching from above. Watching over his poor father that didn’t want to let him go but because of out wonderful government run lives was told he had to give him up for a little while so the child could visit his rotten mother. I can’t imagine the pain and suffering this father must deal with now for the rest of his life. I can only wonder what will happen to the bitch and the jackass, and hope it’s enough. It won’t be, but we can hope. 

Change is inevitable

It happens in every job around the world. Change. Some like it some hate it, some deal with it and others are forced to cope. It’s coming, it’s going, and it’s why we are human. We adapt and try to make our lives easier, more functional and we learn from what worked or didn’t work through change. From the dark ages of yesterday to the seeming like dark ages of today, we wouldn’t be where we are without change. Yet we complain… a lot. We complain that back in the good ole days they had it right. They might have had something’s right, and something’s are still the same but as humans grow, we become stagnant and with stagnicity, yes I just made that word up, comes no growth, no learning and no adapting to situations. Animals have done it some haven’t. Those that haven’t adapted are what we call….extinct…..they don’t exist. They didn’t adapt to change quickly enough. So although you may not like the tech era that we are living in, deal with it. Or that your web banking page is changed so that more connivance is given to you, deal with it. Provide feedback, yes. Complain and demand it to be changed back to the old way, sorry don’t use it if you don’t like it. That’s the thing, we have all these new technologies and systems coming out such as facebook and twitter and all some people do is complain about them. Solution; don’t use them. That’s it. Don’t adapt, don’t learn. Just don’t worry about it and cause others anguish about it. We each have our agency to do with what we are given in our own way. So if you are given something you don’t like, don’t use it. Don’t whine to me about it.

Perception affects the Samaritan

I wrote a few days ago about a man in a wheel chair that had dropped his things, and no one was willing to stop and help him. Well I saw just the opposite yesterday. At first it made me glad, but the more I thought about it, it made me even more upset than I was when no one helped that young man. So here it is. It was a lovely, Sunday afternoon. It was also mother’s day. Brian and I were passing through a busy intersection where three cars had their emergency lights on. One car was the victim, two others were good Samaritans dressed in a suit and tie. It was Sunday like I previously said. The victim’s car had stopped and the Samaritans were helping push the car to the side of the road. The victim was an older woman. Not dying but older, maybe in her late 50’s. Traffic was backed up, but people were nice about it. Was it because it was a Sunday, or mother’s day or was it because in this case, it was a sweet looking older lady? It was then that I determined our perception of people determines our generosity towards others. The wheel chair man looked raged, poor and quite honestly, like someone I would not like to have behind me if I were alone. The older women though, who couldn’t stop to help her? Especially on a Sunday and with it being Mother’s day? All I am saying is this world is sad. Sad that we judge on who we will stop to help based on their appearances. But society has done that to us. We hear stories and then based on those people in those stories, it influences our judgments. You don’t hear too often of 50 year old woman with a broken down car mudding her Samaritans. So it's safe to help her.

Pope Jon Poll III

Oh the chaotic, frantic life of a single young man in love with fun. Girls, golf, a bike and institute. That’s what his life is built upon. He is a vending machine of girls in search of his sugar mama. He has his choice and usually his choice doesn’t work out then his coworkers deal with the XY PMSing affects. Sometimes I feel like a shrink listening to his daily stories. Two days go by and I could write a novel with what he tells me I missed. This very minute he is making me write his biography but it feels like a eulogy. I can’t help but wonder what my husband thinks of me writing this about him. So to clarify, this is a public proclamation of how annoying, pestering, Mr. Jon Poll is to me and the others surrounding our work desks. He is fully aware of the poke I am making and I fully expect something rude to come out of his mouth as soon as it’s posted. Day to day, it looks like two siblings fighting throughout the entire day…I just found out he was a super senior! Off subject but I made fun of all super seniors….it’s pathetic.

I come in and immediately he mocks me, calls me gimpy or tells me I look like a man. This is what I deal with day in and day out. He has drastic girl drama issues everyday and when he tells me he has a new date, I always have to ask if he did or will make out with this unknowing, ill prepared prey. Then he has to ask my advice on whether the relationship is going well or not. I should start charging per incredible piece of advice I provide. My friend Corbi and I are his support, yet bash group. We get made fun of, yet help him realize he isn’t as smart as his big, fohawk head makes him think he is.

He speaks Spanish, whoopee! Every day I have to fix his schedule for Spanish calls that he often and always will take advantage of. Milk it for all it’s worth, Mr. Jon brown noser.

Site #16

Where is yours? Mine is space # 16. Moose horn, the campground in the high Uintahs. It’s my favorite location on this depressing, filthy, mucky earth. A manmade lake with rainbow trout bred and dropped weekly into the water hole. Dirt everywhere. No flushable toilets. Very little running water. Snow one minute and the next perfect, sunny bliss. Cans and cans of bug spray. The crisp, clean, fresh smell of pine, oak and all sorts of natural cleanliness succumbing me. It’s quiet, calm and tech free….almost. I wake up whenever I feel, grab my ponytail, brush and hat. Do my do with no mirror and head to face the freeness of my day. Eat grease filled sausages, bacon, pancakes hash browns and orange juice. Then it’s down to the man made water hole that is protected by the bald mountain. This is the only time my brother and I get to hang out. We go to our side of the lake where the younger cousins aren’t allowed to venture due to the minimal danger that could arise. We cast our worms; sit in our chairs with books in our laps and just talk. Talk about everything, yet talk about nothing. We listen to music…that’s the one tech device we allow…and just enjoy it. After that my 26 small cousins tear him apart. I finish reading or take a nap while he entertains and keeps the small ones safe….and give the parentals time to be adult kids instead of adults. I miss that. He is gone for two years and we are going camping this year. It’s going to be weird, it’s going to different but I can’t wait for the time when I jump out of the car and take a big whiff of the clean, crisp, out house smell filled air.

Museum Gawkers

When you go to a museum, you look, stare and marvel at the either interesting or boring displays. Yet when you see an accident on the freeway you gawk. You stare, and marvel. You observe the accident the same way you do looking at a 2000 year old mummy in a museum. You also do it when you see someone in need and no one is helping. You just gawk. At least I do. I did. It’s called Bystander Effect and we are all guilty of participating in this humanistic flaw. We see someone in trouble, but there are other people around so we assume someone else will help, call 911 or contribute and other type of aid. It’s sad, pathetic but human. I was human two days ago. There I was, in no hurry to get anywhere, stuck at a red light. To my left; a man in a wheel chair at the cross walk waiting for the ok to cross to the other side. No use of his legs at all, they were pinned back. He carried an amount of stuff in his lap and arms that should have required a bag to hold everything, but that’s all he had, his lap and arms. He dropped everything. Doesn’t sound to bad right? Have you ever seen someone try to gather items they have dropped while in a wheel chair? Not easy. As he would get something and put it back in his lap and go down to pick another, the first would fall. Talk about a frustrating situation. And all I did was gawk. Contemplating if I should try to merge out of traffic to help him, the light turned green and a few honks followed that forced my foot on the gas. I drove off….others drove off…who helped him? No one that I saw. I should have. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. He wasn’t in any physical danger but still, he needed someone’s help and as far as I know no one helped. He was just a museum display that we all gawked at.

BLAH!!! This can't be

Rumors! Hate them!! Especially when its possibly true....What am I talking about you ask...well there you have it. Proof that even you are addicted to rumors. Otherwise you wouldn't want to know what the rumor is...so should I even tell you? That would place me in the position of spreading the rumor....ok fine this one is killing me.....Steve Carrel may leave the office....Now don't have a heart attack. He was interviewed, said a few things that may or may not have been taken out of context but he has one season left on his contract. Fine. But what would happen if he left? I wouldn't be able to watch. Sorry Pam, Jim, Dwight and all the other great characters. Michael makes the show. If he was replaced? Nope still couldn't handle it. You KNOW you would always compare the new Michael to the original and it's annoying when sitcoms try to replace a character anyway. So there you have it. Take it or leave it but I hope and pray....I know I shouldn't pray about that but who cares...I don't want him to leave.

Big people should wear big people clothes

It happened all to quickly. I wasn't prepared. I wasn't ready and even if I had time to prepare, it wouldn't have been nearly enough. Literally, a fat guy in a little coat.....ok ok not literally but it was an overly large women....ok ok a very very overly large women and a tiny shirt....and shorts....and flipflops. It should be illegal, prohibited or against some type of rule somewhere in this large universe. I have been contemplating when I will need Lasik eye surgery but now I have come to the conclusion that I just need to have my eyes surgically removed after seeing that horrendous sight. I can handle scary movies, blood, guts and gore but the two things I can't stand seeing that truly make me sick to my stomach are children in danger and fat goozing out of the crevices that polyester or 100% cotton fabric cannot cover. It's not right, immoral and please for the sake of everyone else’s insanity, cover up.