Ineligible to Apply

 

 When I first started working for grant-funded programs dedicated to assisting low-income and disadvantaged populations, I had a lot to learn about what made someone "eligible" for assistance. I had to delve deep into an inquirant's personal life.

Where is your residence?

How much money did your household bring in the last six months?

Do you receive food stamps? Unemployment benefits? Social security?

How old are you?

Are you disabled?

Have you ever been diagnosed with a learning disability?

Ohh.... thanks for playing but you are not eligible to apply for this program. Call again when you have been laid-off and/or lose a foot.

There were so many different answers to so many different questions and the combinations of such were like an intricate symphony determining someone's eligibility for grant money. Answer one question wrong and you could be knocked out. Answer one of the "golden" questions right, and none of the other answers mattered-you were in! For a novice government worker it was overwhelming!

One day I walked down the hall to the office of one of the other case managers who had been with the department for over twenty years and asked for help with a case. Another senior case manager had told me my client was ineligible to apply, but I still had questions. After flipping the file onto my second opinion's desk, I voiced my concerns about the client. She picked it up, scanned the documentation and said, "Yeah she is eligible." I pouted and sat down. I would never get the hang of this! I explained that I was already told by someone else that my client did not qualify. The woman across the desk smirked and said something I will never forget because it has become a metaphor for every discerning moment in my life since.

"Yeah? Well, when that case manager looks at a client file, she looks at every single way they don't qualify, and tries to MAKE them ineligible. When I get a client, I try to look at every way that they ARE eligible. This one is eligible."
Simple as that. Yet, it has taken me years to see how people apply this philosophy in other avenues of their lives. So many people are looking at a person, a group, a theory, or a social principle in a way that already sets them up for disqualifying them from their life.  Are you one of them? Are you trying to find an excuse to distance yourself from the convicted felon who has a kid in your kid's class? Do you pretend to be on the phone when someone of a different race comes into the break room at work? Are you hiding behind your Bible as an excuse to withhold grace from certain "untouchables" in your life? When you meet a new person and they say something you don't agree with, or have a lifestyle that is not in sync with what you feel is right, do you focus on that instead of focusing on all the things you DO have in common?

Are you making people ineligible to apply for a spot in your life? If you are, you are probably missing out on some extremely wonderful, rewarding, and loving relationships. And I feel sorry for you.

Try making everyone eligible. Seek the good and the similar in everyone, and I guarantee you will not regret it. 

The Demise of Free-Thinking Sane People: Part 3

Sometimes, I get the pleasure of hearing why some of our youths cannot find work. It is always an enlightening experience. For instance, recently I was blessed with this tidbit of information, "I had to quit because I stood up all day and only got one half-hour lunch break, and two fifteen minute breaks."

Yes, that really happened. I almost gave myself an aneurysm while attempting to keep my composure. I have to ask, "What happened to this generation?!?" Why do they assume they should not have to pay their dues? What exactly happened to them to make them feel as though they should be able to make six figures at a desk job with nothing but a high school diploma?

I replayed all of my menial jobs that I had in my younger days. Working outside in 105 degree weather with one thirty minute break all day, scrubbing cars for assholes who yell at you because they think the rust stains that have resulted from their neglect through the winter with their months of salted streets and stinging winds,   should magically be gone after a ten minute car wash. The other job where your manager stole your tip money on a daily basis. The fast food position where you were hired on as a cashier, but the chicken fryer quit the same day you started so you ended up plucking chicken carcasses and throwing them into week-old fryer grease.

What happened? I distinctly remember laughing out loud at a 6' 5" college basketball player four summers ago when he called to tell me he couldn't work anymore because it was too hot outside. He said I wouldn't understand. Obviously, since I now worked in an office, there was no way in hell I could know what he was going through. I mean, right? I walked straight off the graduation stage and onto a full-time union job! Of course! He wanted me to talk to his supervisor. It was just TOO hot outside to work. I told him to suck it up and don't call me again unless he is vomiting or his skin was bursting into flames.

Guess what, young'uns. You are not going to start out in your dream job. You aren't going to begin some big fancy career straight out of college. You are going to have to start out at the bottom and work and claw your way up the ladder. Then, if you are like me, you will be knocked down a few pegs, have to start all over, work your way back up, get laid-off, and have to start again.

There are no free rides. There are no easy ways out. Sure, all of us know someone from a wealthy family who ended up not having to pay their dues. But, trust me those people are not really better off. Be a self-made person. Do your homework. Get your shit together and don't whine about every perceived injustice in your life. If your supervisor makes you do THEIR work-don't complain. Write it down. Put it on your resume. Guess what? Now you can do YOUR BOSS' JOB! That isn't something to complain about, that is something to leverage.

 Don't go into your career counselor or recruiter's job bitching about how "rough" it is out there. If they are even five minutes older than you they are going to laugh their asses off. Especially if you say something like, "I wish I had YOUR job." If they are like me, and paid their dues with a bad-ass mentor with crazy deep quotes coming on the regular, they are going to look at you and say, "If you want what I have, you must do what I do."

And just remember, if you didn't have to work for it, it probably isn't worth anything.

The Demise of Free-Thinking Sane People: Part 2

Once you have finally gathered the strength and courage to go out into the world after hearing about all of the scary things that may happen to you while you are dropping your daughter off at school, or crossing an intersection, you relax.

After all, you successfully got BOTH of your kids to their destinations without your 86 year old neighbor with the child-molestor van kidnapping them, you made it the two miles to your office without a meteorite falling from the sky and crushing you, and you have researched the symptoms of a pulmonary embolism for half an hour and are pleased to announce that  you are not suffering from any of them (yet).

You arrive at work feeling pretty accomplished, right? You are early, and you had time to get your coffee and some breakfast on the way in. You then walk into your office and sit down at your desk where you more or less are sedentary for the next 8 hours.

A lot of things can happen while you are sitting down for 1/3 of a day. For instance, your metabolism slows to a stand still and you eat half of a sheet cake that was baked by a co-worker all by yourself. I don't have any solid scientific or medical evidence on this, but it is my personal opinion that sitting in an office for 8 hours while consuming pure sugar out of boredom can make a person completely and totally bat-shit crazy. Also, office work can sometimes get monotonous. This can lead to your mind wandering while you are going about your usual business. I have found that this monotony and boredom can result in certain people making up shit to be offended about.

I have based my findings on newspaper articles detailing a litany of baseless lawsuits and editorials, as well as the comment section of any politically-charged online news article. Also, corroborating evidence was found in the newsfeed on my Facebook page. Due to the INSANE amount of information available to the public at large, and the boredom suffered by mammals who no longer have to hunt for food or chop their own firewood, or use their brain to do hardly anything to survive these days, you can't go a day without hearing someone throwing a fit about what the president had for breakfast, or someone going toddler-tantrum-style about the pay of some big wig CEO. Americans can start a petition or protest about occurrences half way around the world, even if they don't understand them or have a very limited understanding based on their own egocentric view of the universe.

And sometimes, as I sit in my tiny office and stuff myself full of strawberry cake with strawberry icing, I fall into the trap myself. When all you can find to read are stories about how pissed off you should be about every single thing that you don't agree with, you start to have an over-inflated sense of entitlement. Some people never snap out of it. They go on believing that everything in the universe should fit into their own tiny boxes, never offending the schematic they have set in their own minds. They become assholes incapable of recognizing the worth of other cultures and refusing to see things from a different point of view. Which is why, I have decided to give up sugar while I am at work.

Just kidding. I had three cinnamon rolls today.

The Demise of Free-Thinking Sane People: Part 1

The sanity of Americans, collectively speaking, seems to be sinking to an all-time low. All Americans. Not Republican Americans, or Democratic Americans, or Libertarian Americans, or Green Americans... All of us.

And why shouldn't it be sinking? We have a media whose only job is to make sure we are too scared to go outside, make new friends, take a vacation, or discipline our children. They keep us abreast of which new phobia is all the rage. And with technological advances, they can scare us with news from every single continent in real time! The media lets you know who you should like, who you should hate, who you should fear, what you should eat, and where you should live!

Every. Single. Damn. Day. If you are like me, your morning goes a little something like this:

You turn on the news in the morning while you are getting ready for work. You are just curious as to what the weather will be like so you know whether to wear a light jacket or a ski suit to the office. Also, it is just kind of nice to have white noise in the background as you complete your morning routine. As you are in the bathroom applying mascara you hear a perky, over-caffeinated voice coming from the next room, "Are you too fat to live? You might think so, BUT new research shows that if you are skinny, you might DIE earlier than if you are fat. Of course, if your BMI is over this certain threshold, you could ALSO be at an increased chance of dying sooner than those other people who are just the right amount of skinny. Find out where YOU fall after these messages from our sponsors." You look down at yourself and think, Ohmigosh. Am I the right amount of skinny? I don't even know what my BMI is anymore. Holy hell, when is the last time I went to the doctor--

Then the pharmaceutical commercials start and interrupt your inner dialogue about the BMI dilemma with the following: "Do you have frequent outbursts of laughter and or sadness? Millions of other Americans also laugh and cry. Some suffer from this everyday. You are not alone. BUT you are  ALL inferior and need this pill to make you better people."

Are they SPYING ON ME??? I laugh and cry ALL THE TIME. It is CONSTANT. Do I need that pill? Maybe if I were a better person, people would quit flipping me off on the freeway...

"Back to your news for the morning! But before we tell you how fat you should be for optimal health, we first take you to Mike in the newsroom. He is going to tell you some very critical information on how to know if your sweet, elderly neighbor is really a terrorist who is secretly plotting to kill you and your family. That might look like a regular old van in his driveway, but we have experts from a tiny island in the middle of the ocean who have had experience with one man who possessed a van much like the one your neighbor has-and they know better. And they are here to scare the absolute shit out of you purely for a network ratings boost. Mike?"

Holy hell. My 86 year old neighbor DOES have an old van. I better listen to what these experts say. It could save my life for heaven's sake! I KNEW he wasn't just taking his wheelchair-bound daughter to the grocery store in that thing. How stupid could I have been??? You just can't trust anyone these days. Man, you learn so much when you are just trying to see the windchill factor for the next 24 hours!

"Have you ever taken a birth control pill? If so, you are most likely going to die from a pulmonary embolism very soon. Please call us so we can sue your doctor BEFORE YOU DIE!"

Ok, fuck this. I'm going back to bed.

Wake Up

Sometimes you wake up and you just know

there are people in your life that you keep there for no reason.

Or, more accurately, people you keep there because they have always been there.

And if you remove them, there will be a nasty little clean spot around which the dust settled.

And that spot will remind you of how long it has been since an inventory of your well-being has been taken.

Sometimes, you wake  up and you just know

there are people in your life you have taken for granted.

They have always been there, despite your neglect and nonchalance.

And you can move them to the places where you have just been dusting.

And even if they do not quite fit, their spot will remind you of how far you have come since the last time you awakened.

Dear Eagle Watchers:

Dear Eagle Watchers of Alton:

Just because you catch a glimpse of a Bald Eagle on Route 143, that does not give you permission to slam on your brakes in the middle of the highway, or drive 30 miles an hour in the left lane while simultaneously trying to take a picture out your window. If you do decide to actually pull off the road, you should not get out of your car and proceed to stand in the MIDDLE of the right lane to get a better picture of said birds.

Yes, I realize they are our nation's bird, and are a symbol of all things majestic and brave and beautiful. But seriously people, they come every winter. And they hardly ever do anything that exciting, anyway. Now if one of them starts dive-bombing sight-seers on the levee, I will be the first in line to watch that show. Until then, I must ask if it is really worth taking your life (or the lives of those around you) into your hands to watch an over-grown hawk sit in a tree, or crap along the side of the road.

So, in closing, let me assure you that I, for one, will not feel that bad for wrecking into you if you are driving like a jack-wagon, or are standing out in the road as if it is your own private eagle viewing party. The road is NOT a parking lot! Go further up the river road where you can actually park and view the eagles in peace without the threat of becoming roadkill.

The New Driving Test

There needs to be a different take on the plain old driving test people take at the DMV. Surely there is a more life-like driving test than one where you are in a car with a crotchety old lady taking notes on her clipboard while you make laps around a parking lot, cross one busy intersection and drive politely through a low-traffic neighborhood.

Personally, I think the driving test should consist of a half hour trip on a busy interstate during rush hour. Because if you are trying to merge in front of me on 270 at 6pm, I really don't give two shits if you can do a perfect three-point turn-about, or that you know to stop for 3 full seconds at a stop sign. All I care about is that you know you should be going more than 40 miles per hour, and that if you really want out of the Exit Only lane, you have a fucking blinker on.

Now, I know it would be hard to perform a test of this magnitude on a daily basis... what, with all the DMV cronies being unionized and all. So, I propose that in the case that a proxy is needed, a new driver has to have a dash camera installed for a week, and can drive alone under a provisionary license, pending approval after the viewing of the week's video tape. Seriously, this whole driving debate has gotten out of hand. I know I have a short fuse when it comes to the road, and I know I have a lead foot, and that I prefer people who know to get the hell out of my way-- but that isn't the whole story. The rest of the story starts like this: PEOPLE NEED TO LEARN HOW TO F'ING DRIVE!!!

Now, they have these new laws saying kids can't drive until they are 18, because studies show 16 year olds have the most wrecks. No shit, they have the most wrecks. They are the least experienced! Now, instead of having 16 year olds who don't know what the hell they are doing, we will just have 18 year olds who don't know what the hell they are doing. And NOW they are two years behind in finding out what the hell they are supposed to be doing. So, when they are 21 and in college, they will still be driving like we did when we were 18 and now they can also drink, so it is just going to be a disaster.

And truthfully, some people will just never have a clue. There are 16 year olds RIGHT NOW that I am SURE could drive better than some 30 year olds I know. These are the facts, folks. I don't know what the point of this rant is, except that I am just really pissed that I am going to have to drive to St. Louis tomorrow in snow, and I know there will be idiot drivers out there who think they are excellent because some old biddy with tri-focals said they pulled out of a driveway without crossing the center line, so they got an extra star on their licensing test. And my panties are pretty twisted about it.

We Can Put a Man On The Moon, but...

--We can't make a cereal box that will stay shut after you ever-so-carefully pry the stupid cardboard back without ripping the little tab off



--We can't make a rock-hauling truck with a convenient little flap/lid thing that will allow the trailer to be conveniently filled at the quarry, but then can be closed to prevents rocks from flying out of it on the highway that crack the windshields of all the poor bastards behind it.

--We can't make vodka that doesn't give you a hangover or ruin your liver. Seriously. What is up with that?

--We still don't have hoverboards a la Back to the Future II. I am almost as pissed about this as I am about the vodka thing.

Businesses in Houses

Random Thought #457

You really should not try to have a business out of a building that looks exactly like a house, or that used to BE a house unless any of the following are true:
1) The house has gigantic windows in front that you intend to keep clear of blinds, curtains or any other opaque obstacle between the street and your merchandise

2) The house is on a very busy street LINED with other business-houses

3) The house is a hundred year old mansion and every local within a 50 mile radius knows that it is now zoned for commercial property and that no one has lived there for years

Now, let me tell you why. See, some of us are paranoid nut-jobs and when we googlemaps a store location, drive there and realize that the place we are seeking is a two-story bungalow sitting outside a suburban neighborhood with only a hand-painted sign out front signifying that it is a business and not a residence, our minds go into over-drive and start envisioning ridiculous scenarios that we are already fully aware will probably never take place. However, once those thoughts are inside our minds, they are hard to shake.

For instance, this past weekend I drove past a little house sitting out in the middle of nowhere on an old road, outside of a major metropolis. A sign out front read, "Coffee Shop" but I wasn't buying it. All of the windows were covered, the front door was nothing but a regular six-panel wooden door. How do I know that once I walk through that door I'm not going to be turned into a wax manequin or a human lamp? It is a pretty good cover, really. Act like you are a coffee shop, but dismember people in your basement. (Yes, I know I watch too many horror films. My husband is probably right to try and cure me of that...)

Second, even if it IS a legitimate business, if it looks like a house, I always feel awkward just walking in. Yes, I am a pretty introverted person and I am sure others do not have this problem. But my inner dialogue when faced with such a dilemma goes like this:

"Should I knock?"
"No, of course not. It is a store!"
"Yes, but what if it is just one little old lady selling antiques and she is at lunch, but she just has lunch in her own kitchen because she lives here, too and I walk in and make her get up and put her slippers back on just to greet me at the door?"
"Well, if they were at lunch, I am sure there would be a sign up, or the door will be locked."
"Oh, ok. Yes, there would be a sign up. Or the door will be locked... I will try the door." ---door creaks open...
"Oh, it isn't locked! I bet they just forgot to lock it. It is definitely lunch time Oh, shit I will just go to the freaking mall!"

Now, if the business looks like a home but has huge picture windows that can easily be seen from the street, I feel a little better. SURELY no one will turn me into furniture if any old passerby can see inside the house. If there is merchandise displayed in the window, even better. Then I know that you at least have stuff for sale (or are very committed to conning people) and I can feel a little relieved when I walk through the front door without knocking first.

So, these are just a few marketing tips for anyone who is looking to open their own business in the near future. Yes, I am looking into starting therapy sometime soon. Thanks for asking.

Random List of Things I Thought About Today

1) If being an adultress is so bad, we should really stop making celebrities out of all the home-wrecking whores who sleep with famous married men.

2) A sports bra coupled with pajama pants is really not going out attire. Related fact: If your shirt doesn't cover your belly (pregnant or not) you really should not wear it to the unemployment office, or to a job interview. Or probably anywhere else.

3) The idiot in front of you going ten miles under the speed limit will ALWAYS be the first one in a line of traffic to run a red-light. I really want to follow these people to their destinations and explain to them that had they been driving the speed limit, they would have made the light in the first place-- along with the fifty-seven of us stuck behind them.

4) If you have to pull into on-coming traffic to make a right-hand turn, you really should not be allowed to drive. I edited this comment, because my first suggestion for people like this made the the angel on my right shoulder cry.

5) I go back and forth on the issue of the death penalty. I am really liberal when it comes to MOST issues, but for some reason I have a hard time towing the party-line on this one. In theory, I am against the death penalty. I mean, it actually costs MORE money to kill someone than to make them rot in prison until they die. Besides, I think a life of imprisonment would be WORSE than dying in some instances. And, if I think about it long enough I guess I believe that some people can be rehabilitated, that all life has meaning, and (fill in the blank with bleeding-heart-liberal reason HERE). However, if someone did something to my kids, I know within my soul that the authorities better find the bastard before my husband or I do.

Hmmm... that is all for now.

More FAILS brought to you by craigslist...

IT RUN AND DRIVE BUT I MADE A MISTAKE OF BUY IT BECAUSE MY LEG CANT IT BECAUSE IT A 5SPEED STICKAND IT HAS AN OPEN TITLE ON IT. CALLXXX-XXX-XXXX

Yet another victim of grammar... Is he seriously blaming his leg for not being able to drive a 5 speed? Wouldn't you know it was a 5 Speed before you bought it? Well, at least it runs AND drives. That is lucky... and how did you buy it if it has an open title???

Whatever. NEXT!

this car i bought 2 days after new years (in America, we call that day January 3rd) need a car for work and i bought it for 1700 of a dealer paid it in cash (ok, thanks for letting us know)
and already changed OIL sensor and TRENSMISION sensor (well, I have no idea what that is, but I am glad you changed it) and this car is awesome to me it got me to work i bought it with 148,8xx miles and
has 155.xxx know its all high way miles for work and am selling so cheap because am moving out of the country and need the money END OF JUNE amd
leaving JULY 7th SO I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO SELL IT THIL JUNE 30TH OR JULY 3RD

am asking 1000 OR... OBO.......(dude, you don't have to put OR.. the first "O" in OBO stands for OR) NO TRADESS........ because this car is worth more then a 1000 the way it is

I don't know why, but I just couldn't stop laughing while reading this

its a V6 automatic 2.5L never i never went over 80 because i DO NOT RACE it like other idiots (you let other idiots race your car? That is a really poor decision) its just a work car to get me A to B

the GOOD..(oh, good there's more!)
the car runs GREAT
has moon roof
has a cd player that can plug up UBS and ipods
the ENGINE IS VERY CLEAN (oh, good. I hate when I have to look at dirty engines)
i bought the car wit check engine light on and the dealer passed it for me (What? What does this mean? You cannot pass emissions with a check engine light on... no dealer can do that. Unless he is scamming you because he wants to sell you a car)
and he put new engine mounds on it to hold it together I am guessing you mean that he put new MOUNTS in the car to hold the engine in place. But I may be wrong. Maybe he built up giant mounds Native American style to pay homage to engines everywhere, in the hopes that this would keep away evil engine demons who wish to tear your engine apart. I don't know.
it has no rust on enigne Yes, you have established how clean it is already




the bad.....
check engine light is on
driver seat goes back its broken its automatic seat huh?
it has little bit rust on the side skirts because of its age
owner before me tryed setting up the wiring to the speakers and they messed it up and know i never tryed to fix it but i bought a twitter from walmart What?
and on the side fender has a dent in it i got sit by a drunk and he ran off I am sorry, but I just keep imaging some drunk guy with running up and *sitting* on this guy's fender and then running away like a mad-man. Maybe those engine mounds didn't help after all...

Please, I know I am being a bitch, but look at this grammar and spelling. PLEASE STATES EVERYWHERE IN THE U.S.A.: THIS IS A PERFECT EXAMPLE OF WHY WE NEED *MORE* FUNDING FOR EDUCATION. NOT *LESS.* WE HAVE PEOPLE DRIVING CARS AND WORKING WHO CANNOT SPELL SIMPLE WORDS LIKE *TRIED* AND THEY DO NOT KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN *NO* AND *KNOW.* AND THEY CANNOT FORM GRAMMATICALLY CORRECT SENTENCES EVEN WHEN MONEY AND WELL-BEING DEPEND ON IT! And it really pisses me off. The system has been failing all over the place. Ok, rant over.

Welcome to a new segment I like to call: Craigslist FAIL

I have had the pleasure of needing to use craigslist a lot lately. I use it to hunt down jobs for people, and right now we are in the market for a new vehicle (read: any used car that still runs and gets more than 20 miles to the gallon). So, I have run across quite a few interesting ads and decided to share them with you all (I have x'ed out all phone numbers and other identifying information). First one I ran across today:

"VERY BRITY BLACK CADILLAC MIGHT HAVE A HEAD GASKET LEATHER SEATS SUNROOF PRICE TO SELL CALL XXX-XXX-XXXX"

This is the classic, "I don't understand punctuation nor do I care to know it's relevance in the English language" post. It MIGHT have a head gasket? I sure as shit HOPE it has a head gasket. In fact, if it is a V6 or V8, I hope it has TWO! WTF? And what the hell does "brity" mean? FAIL

The next one I found today that made me chuckle to myself...

For Sale: 1990 Nissan 240SX. In Fair condition. Needs interior work. No A/C, electric headlights don't work, Motor is not working. Doesn't run. (Okay at this point I am beginning to doubt the seller's knowledge of the meaning "fair condition.") Nice car to fix up a little, and is a good racing/drifting car. (I am guessing he means when it runs?) Is asking $1000.00 OBO. If you have any questions just contact the e-mail provided. Car is a 2 door hatchback, manual, some rust spots, has sun roof, No radio. We will detail it before pickup. (What the frick for? Are you kidding me? You are going to waste money getting this POS DETAILED???) Nice Peppy car once it runs. (But in the mean time, I want you to pay me $1000 for a 20 year old car that has no a/c, no headlights, no working motor, no radio, and has rust--the car equivalent of cancer. MmmmkSureThanksbubye!)

More to come as I run across them...

Driving In The Rain

I don't know what it is about rain that makes many of you crazy. Is it the over-stimulation of all the pretty lights being reflected in the puddles in the street? Do you get distracted by the wipers going back and forth, back and forth across your windshield? I know; Maybe it is that the pitter-patter of the drops falling on the roof of your car lulls you to sleep at the wheel. Is that it? Please help me out. Because if I have to drive behind one more vehicle going 15 mph's under the speed limit during rush hour because it is sprinkling, I am going to scream.

I will make this very simple. If you cannot drive in the rain, or if you are too scared to drive at the first sign of cloud cover, please do the rest of us a favor and stay at home. We know you have places to be, but please call-in sick to work, find a bus or a friend who can take you where you need to go. It will make everything more pleasant for all of us. I understand if it is a down-pour. Please, if you feel like you can no longer drive safely due to rain fall, pull over and wait it out. Oh, and turn your flashers on so everyone can see you.

For those of you who just HAVE to drive in the rain despite your complete absence of sense while doing so, here are some tips:

1) If it is raining hard enough that you need your wipers on, you should also have your headlights on. Not only is this a law in many states, it is also just a really swell idea. You see-- as my four year old pointed out the other day as we were driving in the dreary, London-like fog-- when it is raining the sun is hidden from view, making early morning rush hour look much like dusk, or even nightfall! Lights are a grand idea if you would not like other drivers plowing into you on the road.

2) Hydroplaning is not that big of a deal if you have both hands on the steering wheel. In other words, when it is raining put your fricking phone, donut, or mascara down and drive the car! And don't swerve all over the place trying to over-correct yourself. Just hang on to your wheel and keep the tires going forward!

3) If you do not know what hydroplaning is, stay home. Seriously. I don't care if Christ himself invited you over for dinner. Stay the hell away from the car until it clears up outside.

4) If you have found this post to be confusing or rude, please find someone who thinks it is funny and have them drive your dumb ass around next time it rains.

Dear Wii Balance Board:

Dear Wii Balance Board,

You are a jerk. Here is why:

1) You are constantly telling me to do the body test and then when I do you mock me and tell me how off-pace I am to reach my goals. You then proceed to ask me invasive questions about my snacking habits that leave me feeling insecure all day.

2) After said body balance tests, you continually ask me if I walk into things on a regular basis. I don't know what you are trying to get at with this line of questioning, but you should know that it is pretty rude.

3) You are always telling me how old I am and you are always wrong. You know how old I am. You asked me before you would let me do anything else. Ass. Don't try to say it is just my *Fitness Age* I am so sick of that excuse. How can my fitness be 21 one day and 39 the next? What kind of game are you playing here?

4) The other day you told me to go easy on my afternoon snacks. I don't know how you knew I had just eaten four girl scout cookies you psychic bastard, but I really don't like to be lectured about my snacking habits when all I want to do is skateboard in the virtual world.

5) Your batteries are always going dead. For someone who just sits there, you sure do drain a lot of batteries. God, you're so wasteful.

6) When I first got you and you asked me to "Step On," you would always say, "GREAT!" as I did. Now everytime I step on you groan, "OH!" like the last thing you want to do in the entire world is support my fat ass. Well guess what you insensitive prick, I am getting sick of it. I haven't even gained any weight since I bought you, so I don't really know what your problem is. Get over it because I am addicted to the snowball throwing, obstacle course, and skateboarding games now. I kick ass at virtual kung-fu and virtual boxing, and I'm not going to stop now just because of your bad attitude. Oh, and no one cares that you can weigh a freaking dog on you. That is stupid. Was that your idea? I bet it was. Pet and baby statuses? Really?

In closing, I hope this letter has opened your eyes as to why I have been so short and temperamental with you lately. I am sorry I stomped on you the other day when you made my Mii fall off the ice on the advanced obstacle course. That was uncalled for. Please straighten our your attitude though, so that these things will be unlikely to occur in the future. See you at home,

Bec

The Crazies Are Out

Well, it is summer again and you all know what that means.... The Crazies are out again! Just like the heat and sun bring out the mosquitoes, bees, ticks, and ants, the warm weather is also the cue for letting out the people you want to look at and ask, "How did you get dressed by yourself this morning?" But these people are usually comic relief to the backdrop of my life and so I don't mind them too much (unless they are trying to drive cars or are in my way at the grocery store). No, they are fine. Last night though, I saw a new level of crazy. This wasn't an ant, tick, or mosquito. It was the Queen Bee of crazy!

I was stopping to get gas and a little blue chevy cobalt pulled up behind me. I know a couple of people who drive such a car, so I turned to see if I knew this person. Of course, it was no one I knew. It was an older man, dressed kind of shabbily, with long, messy, salt and pepper hair wearing rather large eye-glasses. So, I turn and get back to my gas-pumping. I am almost finished when I hear this very loud shriek that shocked me so much that it took a few seconds to even realize where it was coming from or what was being said. It was so startling I almost "hit the deck" and threw myself on the floor with my hands over head. I can't even describe it in words... It sounded like a signal to the end of the earth--like the screamer was trying to get the attention of everyone within a ten mile radius. It scared the hell out of me. I thought there was a gun-wielding maniac on the loose and some samaritan was trying to signal for me to get the hell out of there!

I could not find my keys fast enough. The screaming continued. It was definitely coming from the man who just pulled up behind me. I was sure of it now. I turned around to see if he was being ripped apart by coyotes. He was not. He was just standing there pumping gas, a little boy was now standing next to him. It was quiet now, but surely one of them was the screamer! The noise was definitely coming from the parking lot and no one else was there!

I scrambled to get the keys in the ignition, stomped on the clutch to start the car, put her in second (I didn't have time for first at this point!) and left as quickly as possible. Once safely out into traffic, I began trying to process what in the hell was going on behind me. The man with the cobalt was still there pumping gas, now looking as calm as can be. I replayed the screams. I am pretty sure the man was screaming (not yelling, but actually SCREAMING), "GODDAAAAMMMNN CAP!! GODDAMNIT CAP! FFFUUUUUUUUCCCCCKK!"

Now, my word of advice is this: If your gas cap gives you this much trouble, you should probably stay at home. There are many things more complicated than a gas cap out in this big, scary, world. Oh, and if you are that fucking crazy, you probably should not be driving, nor should you be allowed around small children. Please go back into hibernation and quit scaring the shit out of those of us who are innocently pumping our gas!

Another Rant about Wal-Mart...

Now, it really is my fault for going into the store in the first place. I mean, I should've known from the start that it was not going to be a fun trip. Besides the mountains of anecdotal evidence from past experiences, there were also signs in the parking lot that I should have just turned around and went back home, or gone a quarter mile further to Shop 'N' Save and paid the 20% mark-up on all the groceries I buy. I mean, what's a few dollars compared to your sanity? But, no. I decided to wait behind the moron, waiting behind the moron in aisle twelve who had yet to even put one bag of groceries into his car. NEWSFLASH: If you are waiting for a parking space occupied by a person who has yet to even unload one bag from his cart, you are an IDIOT unless one or more of the following criteria have been met: 1) It is -10 degrees and you have a car full of tiny children you need to parade across the vast expanse that is the Wal-Mart parking lot, 2) You are 8+ months pregnant, or 3) You are 80+ years old, or 4) Grossly handicapped and all the handicapped spaces are taken. If none of these apply, well then you are just a moron. Sorry about your luck.

Once inside the wonderful shopping atmosphere that IS Wal-Mart's trademark, I was not even greeted by the door greeter. And it wasn't even an old person wearing tri-focals who probably couldn't even see her watch if you asked her the time. It was a girl probably younger than me, with full function of both retinas. You know what... if you aren't going to do your job and at least say Hi to the people walking in, what is the point? You are just being paid to stand there and do nothing. What a waste of Wal-Mart's valuable resources. I mean, they could've paid 20 six year olds in China to make airsoft rifles for a month with your wage, and here you are just taking advantage of your white privilege and slacking on your duty to say, "Hello. How are you this evening?"

Now, I don't know why I wait til Sunday night to do my shopping...it just always seems like the most opportune time to get away from my screaming children. I should really pick a different day though, because many of the things I wanted were sold out. And even though the store was packed with customers, there seemed to be an unseemly number of stockers in the aisles, getting in the way and making each aisle seem like an episode of Ninja Warrior. I mean, it is bad enough that you have to make your way around the idiot customers who seem to LIVE in certain aisles, but when you have to dodge giant racks of produce as well, it gets a little tedious. However, I finally did get through the two mile journey that is the Super-Wal-Mart grocery section, only to be met with Tweedle Dee & Tweedle Dum in the check-out lane.

They needed two carts instead of one, because apparently their four year old had not yet learned how to walk beside them in the store, so one whole cart was devoted to transporting her. The other one had the groceries in it. Ok, fine. Whatever works for you! However, once they got the little rascal out of her cart and had packed all their bags in the first cart, they never moved the empty cart out of my way... they just left it there in front of the conveyor belt... and did not move far enough out of my way so that I could move the cart without running them over (which I must admit, I was half-way considering doing). They finally did move out of my way, but left the cart there in my way. I mean, shit they just pushed that entire cart around the entire store, they can't be expected to move it 20 feet more. That would just be asking too much.

Now, I realize I am a grown person fully capable of moving a cart out of my way (I do it all the time in the parking lot since no one seems to understand what those Cart Corral things are for), but I find it uber-hard to believe that a GROWN COUPLE with CHILDREN need to be reminded to GET THEIR SHIT OUT OF OTHER PEOPLE'S WAY. How hard is it to pull your head out of your ass for the short time you are around other people?

What really saddens me is that Wal-Mart seems to be the microchasm of the entire American Society. This worries me deeply...

ER Doctor haz a dumb...???

So, the only thing more terrifying than finding yourself in an Emergency Room with weird symptoms that make you feel like you are going to lose consciousness at any moment, is the realization that the doctor you have been assigned to for, no doubt the rest of the afternoon, evening, and night is the same idiot doctor your husband had about a year earlier. The doctor who didn't seem able to comprehend small sentences, didn't listen to any of the answers to the questions he asked, and gave your hubby about three minutes of his time... spaced over about five hours.

Luckily, you are given a nurse who seems to have an IQ that is in fact, higher than his shoe size and even has a sense of humor. He doesn't blow out any of your veins taking blood samples, nor does he ask the same idiotic questions over and over again. However, this cannot save you from Doctor Moron, who dwells on ONE of your symptoms, over-looks all the others, and immediately dismisses you (assuring you that everything is *normal) giving you discharge papers listing reasons to come back. And when you look at the reasons you need to come back up to the dreaded ER, three of the five symptoms are things you presented with in the first place. Lovely. Well, at least you have the comfort of knowing that you will be charged thousands of dollars to find out how normal you are.

So, the next day you go to your own doctor, who is actually NOT a moron and walks you through all the tests the hospital ran. He even shows you all the results from your blood tests and explains what each one means. And guess what? Many of them are NOT normal!!! In fact, some are SO not normal, that he decides that maybe other tests should be run to rule out more serious conditions. I mean, afterall--it isn't everyday that you feel so loopy and out of it that you call someone to pick you up from work and let her drive you to the ER, barely putting up a fight. After ordering his own blood tests, Dr. Not-A-Moron decides also to have an EEG run on you. In fact, you can have it done immediately! And guess what? Lucky YOU, those results need to be sent off to a cardiologist. I mean, not many 26 year olds can say they have had a cardiological consult. But you are so lucky, that you can now!

So, now after this fun, eventful week we can just sit back and play the waiting game. But don't worry too much about me, folks. I am probably just a neurotic mess suffering from some kind of anxiety disorder... Dr. Not-A-Moron just wants to rule out any other possible causes for my feelings of impending doom, near-loss of consciousness, trouble breathing normally and loss of concentration. But, send me some prayers and positive vibes, just in case :)

The New Happy

Going through life without someone who is *supposed* to be there is extremely difficult. It makes everything so much harder. Times that are supposed to be great, are tainted. You feel guilty being happy about things you should be able to feel happy about. You feel such a variety of emotions on days most people would only feel joy. And it is hard. Sometimes you just sit and beat yourself up about the *good times.* Eventually, you have to give yourself a break...and let yourself lower your standards for *Happy.* They aren't going to be the same as other people. Your happy times will always have that haunting feeling overshadowing the occasion. It is similar to that feeling you get when you know you are forgetting something important, but you cannot remember what it is. Or the feeling I assume shoplifters get when they steal something really good. Sure, they are excited about their new item, but can they really enjoy it knowing it was ill-gotten?

The best way I can explain it is by looking at a jigsaw puzzle. Imagine you have a one thousand piece puzzle. You put that whole damn thing together, only to realize that somewhere along the way you lost three pieces. Sure, you still put 997 pieces together in their correct places, but it still isn't right. Because you know, those other three pieces SHOULD be there...and the picture is a little off without them. But you can't do anything about it. You can't truly be happy that you did all you can do, even though you should be. It isn't your fault the pieces are missing after all...

The worst (unfortunately) is when a fantastic occasion comes up. Your brother gets married to a girl you absolutely adore. Or your son is about to turn one year old. Or your daughter gets along with her new step-cousin-in-law (or whatever the hell the girl is)...You feel that sting in your heart behind every smile. Because you know that this New Happy is the happiest you will ever truly be. And anything above that would feel like a betrayal, a farce, a denial of things past. And it becomes hard to determine what is worse: Not allowing yourself to enjoy any of life's truly amazing gifts, or feeling guilty about everyday that you *do* enjoy. Some days, it's a toss-up. And it totally depends on how much alcohol you have consumed.

So, you have to redefine *happy* for yourself. You have to lower the bar. You have to realize that the hand you were dealt had no wild cards, no straights. Shit, it didn't even have a low pair. But eventually, you have to be ok with it. Sure, the good times will always be bitter-sweet. You will always have that home-sick feeling even when you are already home. But, if you just realize that your Happy is a hard-earned, hard-won Happy--well, maybe it will be all right in the end.

Getting Into a Routine

Lately I have been thinking a lot about "routines." Now, if you know me well, you also know that I don't use this word very often, and at times I have even cursed the concept. You also know that I am a giant mess of a person. But, I am working on it. It is hard. Here's why:

You see, when you don't have a routine and you are always flying by the seat of your pants, you realize and accept the fact that your entire day will be rushed and hurried, and you will probably forget things. You learn to live with it and every day is a new challenge. I was really pretty damn good at getting by this way...for a very long time. But, after kiddo number two I decided I should try to be more of a grown up and get my shit together. Stress levels were beginning to reach all-time highs. And besides, I always saw all these other people with all of their shit together and they always seemed way happier than me. So, I figured what the hell do I have to lose? Get a schedule together, how hard can it be?

And I will tell you that it wasn't really hard at all. I had to start waking up half a day earlier than usual so I could have some *me* time. My *me* time includes working out and playing around on the computer. Then I have to get ready for work. Then I have to get the kids ready, get out the door, go to work. It was amazing how everything fell in line once I made a conscious decision to do the exact same thing everyday. Go figure. I started feeling so much better, less stressed, and just happier with my life. It is absolutely amazing...but here is the catch. Once you get into a Feel-Good routine, the minute life throws you a curve ball you are screwed.

Really. I'm serious. It's worse than the days I had no routine at all. You sleep through your alarm clock? Well, pre-routine Becqui would just shrug it off and go about her day. Big deal. I was great at improvising. I could get anything done no matter the time crunch. In fact, I usually thrive under pressure. Now? Forget it. I miss my morning run and I am an absolute lunatic the rest of the day. Out of my breakfast cereal so I have to eat something else? My caloric intake for the rest of the day is pretty much put into a tailspin til I hit the sheets. One little hiccup in the morning schedule, and my whole day is out of whack.

I don't know if anyone else has this problem. I hope so. But if you don't, possibly you have the number of a helpful therapist you can pass along ;)

Ok, Hardee's We Get It

You may as well change your slogan to, Hardee's: The Preferred Fast Food Chain of Perverts and Sex Offenders Across the Nation.

We get it. You are proud of your perviness and the fact that your marketing executive has the emotional maturity of a thirteen year old. You think boobs, butts, and sexual inuendo are the way to win over America's heart and disctract everyone from the fact that your food isn't fit to give to my dog. WE GET IT. But I just wanted to let you know that everytime I watch one of your commercials or hear about your biscuit holes on the radio I feel like vomitting, taking a shower, and reporting my TV to the local police station for sexual harassment.