Untold Stories

I just finished reading one of the most endearing novels I have EVER read. Twenties Girl by Sophie Kinsella is a tale about a somewhat lost 20-something old girl named Lara Lington who gets enlightened by none other than the ghost of her recently deceased great aunt Sadie. Sadie appears as her 23 year old self and she is in search of a necklace she remembers wearing when she was the happiest in her life.
So the quest begins  for Lara to find said necklace so that she can get rid of this obnoxious great aunt, who enjoys meddling in her life by screaming loudly at random people, making them do crazy things without them knowing why. The longer it takes, the more Lara finds out about Sadie and all of the untold stories that her family never knew. They become friends.
This is only a brief synopsis and I'm really not doing it any justice, but one scene in the story particularly reached out to me.  It's when Lara takes a box of old Fred Astaire and Ginger Roger's movies to the nursing home in which Sadie passed away in. Her hopes in doing this are to possibly bring a smile to some of the faces who perhaps remember the first time they went to see these movies. As the nurse pops the tape in, Lara stands back and watches the faces of these people transform. Recognition hits them and a smile spreads across the face of an older man, sitting in a wheel chair in the corner. As Lara continues to watch, it's almost like they all transform into their 20 year old selves and it hits her. They are in old bodies, but they relive the happiest times of their lives day in and day out...and no one even knows or notices. They all have their own "Sadie" stories to tell.
This got me thinking, we ALL have our "Sadie stories". There is so much about my families' lives that I don't know about. Friends too. I look back and can see my great grandmother cooking us her famous macaroni and cheese while my great granddaddy sits in his ratty chair, drinking coffee out of a saucer plate. I remember the old picture of his and his brother in the army hanging on the opposite wall.  And I can see so clearly the old glass coca cola bottles hanging out on the back porch in numbers. But this is all I knew. They were once my age. They lived through some of the most amazing history in the world. We read it in our history books in school, about the Great depression and World War 1 and all the wars that followed...but they LIVED it. They are a part of that history and so much more.
The same goes for my grandparents. Their lives before I came along are such a mystery to me. I remember hearing bits and pieces while growing up, but there is so much more I want to know. We take advantage of what we have when we still have it and the chance to learn more about it. But once these people are gone, their stories go with them. This perhaps explains my somewhat morbid obsession with cemeteries. There is so much history that never makes the fine print of the books we read in school.
So here is my challenge. I want to hear your story. Something or someone that you remember that has helped make you who you are. And if you don't tell it to me...please, tell it to someone. We only have so much time on this Earth and who knows where we go afterwords. The important thing is to leave something behind for those who come after you. Don't be an untold story. As miniature as you might feel in the grand making of history, you're a part of it regardless. If you want to leave your mark.....don't be an untold story.

Death in the Eyes of Lorelai

This morning I woke up like I would on any typical Thursday morning. I tried to sleep in because it's my day off and, as always, was unable to. So, I got up, threw my flip flops on and took Leira for her morning walk.

Once outside, she did her typical sniff-sniff here, sniff-sniff there until she found the exact spot she wanted to urinate....decided that that spot wasn't quite good enough and then in mid squat meandered on up the sidewalk a little further. About 10 minutes (and a few false alarms) later, we were back inside and she was begging for breakfast.

I fed her and had to fight to distract the rest of the menagerie with bribes of kitty treats so that she could eat her meal in a somewhat peaceful state. All was well. All was normal. I saw Lorelai sitting in her usual patch of sun staring at what I thought was nothing. (Because it usually is...she likes to stare at things that aren't really there. Maybe a ghost?). I went over to pet her and she chirped and squinted her eyes in a happy state like she always does. That's when I saw it.

It. Was. Huge.

It. Was. Gross.

And I think.... is that a baby one beside it?.........

Me:"BOOOOOOOSKI!!!!!!!"

Andrew (in a half awakened state): "Mumble mumble mumble, what?"

Me: "There is a HUGE ass bug downstairs and it's staring at me while Lorelai is staring at it....and I think there is another one beside it and oh God! It's staring at me too and.....can you please come get it?!?!!!!.......NOW!"

I don't really get an answer, I just hear Andrew upstairs putting his pants on...(because why dispose of a nasty bug in your underwear right?) He stumbles downstairs to examine the bug. The three of us stare on.

Me. Andrew. And Lorelai.

Andrew is much braver than I am and is able to get a little closer. The bug is not moving but we think it's still alive.

Me: "What about her baby?"

Andrew: As he takes a closer look...."Um, I don't think that's her baby..."

Me: Freaking out..."Then what the hell is that?"

Then it clicks.

I look at Andrew. He looks back at me. Silently we understand. We both look at Lorelai sitting there all sweet and innocent....... guarding her prey.

She looks at us and I swear she was smiling.

It wasn't a baby bug....

It was the bugs head.

THE. BUG'S. HEAD!!!!!

Yep. My sweet little dilute calico kitty ripped the head off of said bug. Spit it out. And then sat there watching it die.....

I have no words.....

Vampires Vs. DMV...What are you more afraid of?

So my wonderful sister-in-law  Jenn and I FINALLY went to go see Eclipse last week. We had to wait longer than we initially wanted to because of other things going on and not being able to find the time to actually get together and go see it. But alas, the day finally came last Thursday when I got a text that went something like this: (Let me just make the point here that I am so very upset with myself for erasing all of the text messages that created the conversation that pursued once this first text was made. Therefore, some of this is a bit ad-lib, but you'll get the point:).

Jenn: "You, Me Eclipse? Tonight at 7? Come early. We'll go to Target and get candy:)."

Me: "Oooooh. Candy and Popcorn for dinner?!?"

 Jenn: "That was my thought exactly."

Me: "I. Am. So. There."

Meanwhile, I go on about my day because I have several errands to run considering that, though being married finally is a super awesome experience, the process of changing one's name....is not.

First stop: the DMV.

Once there, I see that there is quite a large line ahead of me, with only one employee giving out numbers and only 2 other employees calling customers one at a time to do their business. (Really? I mean, with so many people being out of work, you would still think that the DMV would be able to round up some more employees.....I'm just saying.)

So anyway. I had only been standing there for about 5 minutes and the line had moved about a quarter of an inch within that time (Hey! I like to be positive.), when this punk-ass kid walks in, stands in line for a minimum of two seconds and exclaims: "This sucks."

He. Is. A .Genius.

And he talks to himself and sighs very loudly in my ear, which makes me want to turn around and punch him in the face. But I'm a newly, happily married woman and I want to make a point that it is possible for a single individual to wait in line at the DMV for 2 hours with a smile on her face.

So, yes. I became that person that everyone hates. You know, the one that always sees the light at the end of the tunnel, happiness and rainbows and blah blah blah. That was me on that day because I refused to let it get me down. (PLUS! I was going to see Eclipse that night with my best friend:). Extra bonus!

Speaking of which, about an hour had passed at the DMV and I was now sitting in one of those plastic chairs watching the screen in front of me, learning lots of facts about driving that I had, ahem, perhaps forgotten? I would educate you on such facts at this time, but I can't remember what they were.... However, I do remember seeing the story on  Lindsy Lohan  having to do jail time for skipping out on parole. (What has happened to the youth of America?) And also they showed a picture of Scarlett Johanson pumping gas....interesting stuff. Let me tell you.

I check my phone to see if I have any messages and I have three texts:

Jenn: "I am so excited!"

Jenn:"Yea vampires and shirtless werewolves."

Andrew: Vampires and Werewolves and ghosts...oh my."

I ignore Andrew's text and the fact that he is so clueless that duh! There ARE no ghosts in the Twilight saga. (He has so much to learn....). And promptly text Jenn back the ever-so grown-up expression:

Me: "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"

Jenn: "I KNOW! I can't wait!!!"

Me:"Yea. Yummy werewolves with no shirts. Score!"

Jenn:" Mmmmm no shirts."

Jenn: "I mean, we will wear shirts:)."

Me: "We don't have to. Hee  Hee."

Let me just interject here to explain above lesbian-type comment. It's an on-going joke that the whole reason Jenn married my brother Pat was to get close to me and because gay marriage isn't yet legal in North Carolina. It's just a joke though. Really. We aren't lesbians. Promise. So back to shirtless werewolves and sulky vampires that shimmer in the sun.

They. Are. HOT!

So the rest of my experience at the DMV wasn't very exciting. The sulky teenager (who was SO NOT hot like a sulky vampire) somehow ended up sitting two seats away from me and I would occasionally hear such comments as :"Come on! and Arrggggggg and I'm a pansy-ass white boy who can't wait patiently in line even though it's my fault I'm here because I did [insert something illegal here].....OK. Maybe not the last one but you get my point right?

Once it was finally my turn, I practically skipped to the lady and handed here my information. And.....

Nothing.

She just stared past me and started yelling across the office to the one other employee to turn her music down. Then she just stared, still not at me, but kind of above and beside me.

I continued to sit there and smile like an idiot until she finally asked me what it was I needed.

"Me: "I'm changing my name because I just got married!" (Big smile and BOUNCE!)

She said nothing, Just took my paperwork, typed in some information in the computer. When she did speak it was only to ask me for 10 bucks. I wrote her a check, still smiling and she handed me my little ticket with my new signature on it to give to the picture-taking guy. (Who, by the way,  was also the guy handing out tickets to people waiting in line. Really DMV? Get your act together!) I went and sat down in another uncomfortable plastic chair, still smiling and bouncing my crossed leg back and forth, waiting for my new driver's license picture to be taken.

Then I heard something behind me.

"Arggggggggg."

Really? Could I not at least get a break from the stupid, patient-challenged teenager?

It was OK though, My name was next and even though it took 20 more minutes to be called, when I heard my new last name being spoken by someone other than family and friends, I beamed!

I went up and sat in, yet another plastic chair, smiling stupidly for what seemed like 5 minutes, while (I think?) the guy took my picture. (The reason I say "I think" is because he never actually told me when he was going to take it....)

I stood beside him waiting to see my new license with my new picture with my new name and he hands me a piece of paper with only a copy of my new signature. I looked at him blankly as he explained how my new license would come in the mail between 5-7 business days. It was at this point I had to decide whether or not I was going to continue smiling, because inside I was full of rage.

Inside Me: "You mean to tell me that I have stood here in line for 2 freaking hours beside a smelly, spoiled teenager who grumbled the whole time, reading stupid facts about driving and movie stars that I DON"T CARE about, and not even spoken to by the creepy lady at the desk over there that won't even look at me and I don't even get my license today?!?!?!!!!"

(To calm myself down, I had to "force" myself to think of hot vampires and barely of age werewolves.)

No. I didn't make a scene. But my insides were screaming. (See above.) I just took my new license (aka...little white slip of paper) and continued to practically skip out of the DMV.

So yes. I might not have that little piece of plastic with my new name and my new picture on it yet, but I can tell you one thing.....

I bet I was smiling.

Sick Days

We all have them and we all feel a little bit guilty when we take them

I mean, think about it. We're calling into our place of work to let our employer know that we are taking the day off because we're not feeling well. And then we get to sit on the couch and do at least 3 out of 4 of the things I personally most LOVE to do. (i.e. Watch T.V. , read a good book, eat...if you aren't having the icky stomach poos and most importantly sleep).

I find it a little comical in some ways. Obviously, there are days when you wake up in the morning knowing full well that you aren't going to make it through the rest of the day without either passing out, coughing a lung up, or vomiting all over your co-workers, ect ect.

So why do we (and by "we" I mean the majority of us) make the actual "call in" as dramatic as we possibly can? Think about it. And be honest, if you have a cold, don't you manage a little cough or a sniffle on the phone? Or even make your voice sound all croak-y as if you are trying to sale to the person on the other end of the line that yes, you are indeed sick and not coming into work today.

Then there is the issue if you have to actually GO somewhere during said sick day because you need orange juice or cough syrup or Kleenex. Then you find yourself walking around the store in full alert by the off-chance that someone you work with might see you out and about when you're supposed to be at home in bed.

Maybe it's human nature to feel a little guilty when you take a day off to re-group. We offer ourselves excuses such as, well if I stay home today, it would be better if I went to work and got worse and then had to stay out multiple days. It's like when you go shopping and there's a HUGE sale and even though you weren't planning on buying anything, you come home with bags upon bags of stuff!

It's amazing how the human mind works. How we can convince ourselves that we feel or don't feel a certain way. Don't get me wrong. We all really do have our sick days. But admit it, sometimes they're "sick days" in that you just want to stay home and be able to grunge out and watch t.v, read a good book, eat whatever you want, and catch up on some much needed sleep.

I guess sometimes it's just easy to take advantage...or you feel like you're taking advantage when all you're really doing is trying to take care of yourself.

Or is that just another excuse?

C.O.R.P.O.R.A.T.E

I would be a crappy business woman.

But before I go any further, when I look at the above title in all caps, it reminds me of the goose from Charlotte's Webb. You know the one; the snobby one that says "Double T, Double E, Double R, Double I, Double F, Double I, Double C...."

Hee. Hee. A talking goose.

But anyways. I have worked for a few corporations in my life and have abruptly decided. It. Is. Not. For. Me. I mean really? What is the point of up-selling? Don't most people go into a store or a business already knowing what they want and how much they are planning to spend? When I am asked something along the lines of "Do you want fries with that?" I want to look at the person, slap myself on the forehead and say, "Gee! Why didn't I think of that while I was ordering?" I mean come on!

The first job I ever had was at a well-known amusement park that shall remain nameless to protect the innocent. But my boss was all about Upsale! UPSale! UPSALE! The part of the park I worked in was actually a little barbeque hut. (And yes, you read me right....B.A.R.B.E.Q.U.E. .....as in dead pig...which is ironic due to the Charlotte's Web reference I made above...oh yeah. AND I'm a vegetarian....but that's beside the point.) I remember sitting in a meeting and sort-of listening to how we needed to sale more desserts, yada, yada, yada. And I couldn't help thinking to myself, "Really? You want me to ask families to spend ten bucks on a piece of crappy key lime pie just so you can get a bigger bonus at the end of the year? You pay me $5.75 and take more than half of it out of my paycheck bi-weekly to help pay rent on a 3 bedroom apartment that I live in with 5 other girls. Fuck you and your dessert. Not to mention the fact that a lot of these people save up for years to come to said amusement park and spend hundreds of dollars on tickets alone. An average meal for a 4 person household is somewhere between 20-30 bucks.....for a lousy hamburger and fries. That's one word INSANE! NO! I won't upsale your crappy dessert! If someone orders a piece of pie, that's what they get. If not. Oh well."

This job experience, though many good things came out of it, should have been my first clue that business woman? I. Am. Not.

Ironically, I later worked at Walmart...... Call me a hypocrite if you want. But when you have been out of a job for several weeks in a row, you take what you can get.

And this is what I got in short. Crappy co-workers.Crappy customers returning crappy merchandise. And crappy pay. Need. I. Say. More?

Currently, as most of you know, I am working in a veterinary office. Unfortunately, it is not privately owned. It's, yep! You guessed it, owned by a corporation who owns several hospitals all over the US. I have been working there now for 4 years and lately, I am starting to see all of these changes that seem to be revolved around making more money. Don't get me wrong, I understand that a business can't be a business without making money...but there is a line. And I feel like lately, we as employees are being asked to cross it.

I can't do that.

I won't do that.

I first and foremost do what I do because I want to make a difference somehow. I want to help animals and their people. And I don't feel like the way to do that is via raising prices and charging more for products our clients can get cheaper somewhere else. (And before you ask, yes. I do tell said clients where to get said products cheaper. Especially if they are already shelling out hundreds of dollars for their pet. In my world. It's the decent thing to do. ) I want to make my mark on this world before my time here is over....and I'm tired of stupid corporations and their mad money-making skills getting in the way of that.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not all "Down with the government! Don't work for the man!" But there is a huge part of me that rather work for the underdog. I have worked for both independents and corporations and I have to say, I have much more respect for the independents. If I ever caught someone stealing at the little store I used to work at, I took it much more seriously and personally than if I saw it at Walmart...only because these people were my friends and they have worked so hard to accomplish the American Dream. I realize that all corporations start from a small business. But much like government can get, it's so easily corrupted. Where is the line drawn? How do we hold up to the humanity that most of us start out with? How do we keep from getting greedy? And more so, how do we avoid getting caught up in it all?

I don't want to be a part of it all. Even Wilbur (Yes. The pig from Charlotte's Web who need not know that I worked at a barbecue restaurant.) got tired of his fame and fortune. His biggest lesson learned was that at the end of the day, it's the small things in life that matter. Which makes me wonder? If spiders and barn yard animals get it.....

Why can't we?

Lorelai's Top 10 on TV

10) Barack Obama...she loves that man.

9) Tales of Avonlea. When we were living in Pat and Jenn's spare bedroom, I would watch this show before going to sleep and she would sit at the end of my bed, little white paws curled up underneath her, and watch the screen religiously.

8) Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure. ("There's something afoot at the Circle K")

7) Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey. (What? She has an eclectic taste for classic movies. And Bill and Ted is definitely a classic for my generation.)

6) Where the Heart Is. During the last scene, right before they finally kiss, Lorelai came out of no where, sat directly in front of the TV screen, and stretched her paw up to touch the couple's faces. Classic. Movie watching. Moment.

5) The Closer. Actually. This is just her theme song. She grooves to the beat every time she hears it, strutting across the floor like she's Michael Jackson. I kid you not.

4) The DVD my friend Traci gave her that has the choice of chirping birds, butterflies or dragonflies floating across the screen. (She thinks they're real and I haven't the heart to tell her the truth...)

3) The mouse arrow on the computer screen, therefore making it nearly impossible for me to do anything on the computer.

2) Gilmore Girls. Need you ask why? They are her namesake.

1) The "Lorelai Show". Nope. Not Gilmore Girls again. This is the "show" of Lorelai staring lovingly at her own reflection when the TV is indeed off. Her favorite show for sure.

Why the World Doesn't Care When It's Your Birthday...

1) The people you work with forget that it's your birthday until later on in the day when they claim to "make it up to you". Forget it. You screwed up. The damage is done.

2) One of your favorite epileptic patients comes in, having bloody diarrhea and the Dr. in charge thinks that she's in liver failure and not looking for a positive outcome.

3) The first thing your manager says to you is "did you change the x-ray chemicals?", reminding you of a few days ago when you got pulled into the office to be told of all the things you have been doing wrong...and making you bite your tongue when all you really want to say is, "Did you even look at the big sheet on the x-ray door that has my initials on it for the past week, therefore declaring that , yes! I checked the x-ray chemicals! Get off my back!"

4)The person you're closing with (the only other person closing that day) calls out because she has a headache...really? Take some tylonol for crying out loud!

5) Your supervisor goes home early, leaving only you and one other person to cover for the rest of the day. Happy. F***ing. Birthday. To. Me.

6) A big, mean dog still manages to beat you up and drag you across the floor....on sedatives! (How is that even possible?)

7) The dog having surgery the next day decides to bust his lip open on the cage door at 5:59 when you are scheduled to leave at 6:00, therefore making the cage look like he massacred a small animal.

8) Getting stopped by every stop-light on the way home, when all you want to do is snuggle with your fiance' and forget about everything that has just happened in your day. Your birthday.

Dramatic? Yes. But it's my party, and I'll cry if I want to.