Just Kramer

I was recently scolded for not having written a blog post in 6 months. 6 MONTHS?! How did I ever let it go that long? I took the scolding as a compliment and figured I should get right to work. Actually that scolding was like 3 weeks ago so I took my sweet ass time. But none the less…here I am.

So what’s been up for 6 months? Pregnant chicks, p90x, new job, my dog still eats her shit, still single, online dating sucks balls, burritos, too much fruit, chicken dance, online shoes, naked tenders, vitamins, Pooh holes, Gotye, Gentleman crush, Lent sucks. <– These are all notes I jotted down when I decided to write a blog. I’ll try to cover all of them without completely confusing and/or boring you to death.

Let’s start with pregnant chicks. THEY’RE FUCKING EVERYWHERE. And if they’re not already pregnant, they’re trying to be pregnant. Or they just finished being pregnant. Or they’re pregnant and they don’t even know it yet. I think I’m at that age where all my friends are in their baby phase. Sad thing is that I’ve been at that age for like 7 years and probably will be for the next 5. I’m going to a baby shower this weekend and so naturally, I had to go to Babies ‘R’ Us today. I’ve added it to my list of least favorite places along with The Post Office, the DMV, Candlestick Park and that store in the mall that only sells tea pots. Sadly, I’ll have to make another stop there in a few months because my sister went and got herself knocked up again. She’s been married for 10 years and has 3 awesome boys but I still insist on referring to her as being all knocked up. She’s got a little girl on the way this time so I’m super excited about this new challenge. See, girls don’t typically like me much at first so if I can get this kid to warm up to me by the time she’s like 5 then I’ll feel like it was totally worth the effort.

Let’s move on to p90x and this new job. I’ve been working on getting this new job for like a year now which was a seemingly impossible achievement. So at some point about 6 months ago I told myself “If I somehow miraculously get this job one day then I will do P90X”. The only reason the two were related is because previously I didn’t have the hours in the day to commit to something like P90X and I kept complaining like a little bitch about not having time to work out. I still don’t quite yet, but I started it anyway because I made a mental commitment to myself that I would do it. And then I made sure to mention it in this blog because if I say it publicly that I’m doing it then I feel like I have to be accountable to anyone who read this or they’ll think I’m a giant failure. I’m only on day 11 and I’ve never been sore for 11 days in a row before. I don’t know why I feel the need to constantly torture myself but something about the accomplishment is invigorating.

I’ll skip all the way to “Lent Sucks” and online dating. As I said in the above paragraph, I find some sort of satisfaction from challenging/torturing myself. They seem to go hand in hand. For my new year’s resolution I gave up all deep fried foods for 2012 and I decided to give online dating a try. So far both have sucked balls. I went into the whole online dating thing with a positive and excited attitude. I went on about 5 dates that were mediocre at best. I only went on one date where I wasn’t counting the minutes until it was over and ironically, that guy never called me for a 2nd date. Maybe because I was staring at his chicken wings like I wanted to make love to them. Or maybe it was because I closed my eyes and slowly inhaled the scent of his curly fries. Whatever the reason, I wasn’t his cup of tea. Online dating was awkward and a waste of time. But not as big of a waste as Lent was!! I made the HUGE mistake to give up alcohol for Lent. It was a total accident that I won’t even get in to, but once I committed to it there was no turning back. I completely regret it because alcohol isn’t something that I indulge in frequently, it’s typically just for an occasion or to be social. If I’m out to have a good time with friends THEN I’ll have some drinks. So basically I gave up FUN for 40 days. Every party, event or even just “girls night” that I went to in that 40 days I felt completely out of place because I was the only one not drinking. And if I’m being 100% honest, I’m way more fun when I drink. I’d go so far as to say there are many people who like me way more when I’m drunk. That said, I will NEVER EVER EVER give up alcohol again. Unless I go and get myself all knocked up one day.

This is becoming a bit of a lengthy blog so I’ll cover two more and save the other “notes” for another day. Let’s tackle Gotye and my Gentleman Crush even though they are completely unrelated.  I like to refer to Alec Baldwin as my Gentleman Crush, mostly because he’s way older than me and I feel like it’s less creepy if I define it in a more distinguished manner. That said, I’ve become a bit obsessed. Not “Canadian Stalker” type of obsessed, but if I lived in NYC I would probably walk by his apartment from time to time. And linger outside. Maybe start taking Yoga at that place where his 28yr old bitch fiance works just so I could bump into him. Listen, I know he’s a little crazy and a bit old, but there’s something about him. I desperately want to play Naked Words With Friends with him.

And finally, if you haven’t heard that Gotye song “Somebody I Used To Know” yet then you probably live in cave somewhere in the Himalayas. It’s on EVERY radio station and while it’s a good song, it’s becoming a little played out. I was obsessed with it for like 2 weeks but now I’m obsessed with this parody instead. Do yourself a favor and take a moment to watch this…  I’ll leave you with that little gem and hopefully you laughed as hard as I did. And hopefully it won’t be six more months before we meet again. Thank you for listening and enjoy your french fries.

I have recently been the victim of a tragic crime. Well, that’s a bit dramatic and I don’t think it’s entirely about ME as it is about the people behind these shenanigans, but needless to say I’ve been experiencing a handful of unnecessary obstacles as of late. I’ll start off with the story of the Mailbox Bandit. I don’t know why I capitalized Mailbox Bandit but here’s what happened…. About a month ago I noticed my mail door was wide open and no mail was inside. I get the mail about once or twice a week so this was alarming. I didn’t report the theft to any authorities but I did leave a note for my mail carrier who provided me with some very valuable information pertaining to my investigation. Basically she said I’m not the only one in the hood getting their mail hijacked. It appears that the only items of concern were the photo of my dad and me at the All-Star game that he mailed to me and apparently there was a wedding invitation in the lot. I had dismissed the incident as a fluke until yesterday when, once again, I came home to find my mail door wide open – no mail inside. NOW IT’S ON. I can’t stop thinking about how I can catch this Mail Bandit. I’ve done some brainstorming and here are a few ideas I had and some that were suggested to me…

1. Put a live rattlesnake in my mailbox
2. Fill my mailbox with rabid mice
3. Put a spring-loaded bear trap inside the mailbox so they’d have to chew off their own arm if they want to escape
4. Mail myself fake birthday cards filled with gift cards that have a $0 balance
5. Mail myself a fake contest winner notification telling the recipient to fill out the form with their personal info and redeem it at my Radio station for their cash prize.
6. Leave a note in my mailbox that says “You’re on camera right now. Run mother f*cker.”
7. Connect a bomb that detonates when my mail door opens (this was suggested by a coworker that I am now keeping a close eye on)

I really am going to do at least one of those 7 things above, I’m leaning toward the bear trap. Everyone told me to have the lock changed, but I determined that the Mailbox Bandit is prying the door open, similar to how you’d open a locked door with a credit card. Changing the lock would do me no good. I’ll be sure to keep you posted and I promise to take a picture of I catch the thief with a bear trap. Feel free to let me know if you have any additional suggestions.

If getting my mail stolen wasn’t enough, I’ve recently had something else that was near and dear to me stolen, except this time I found out who the thief is. As I mentioned in a previous blog I had turned my cubicle into a Fort a couple months ago. The Fort had become a part of my workplace community, not just my colorful and humble abode in a sea of boring cubicles. But when I came to work last Thursday morning my Fort had vanished. I didn’t get mad, I figured the boss had decided it had run it’s course and instructed the maintenance crew to dispose of it. I kept my mouth shut and just reminisced on all the good memories and good times had in The Fort. All day my coworkers walked up and sadly asked what happened to The Fort to which I replied “I don’t know, I guess the boss decided it needed to go”. Then late in the day I overheard a guy from our promo team asking my coworker where it went to which she replied “I GOT RID OF IT”. Yes, you heard me right. I immediately spoke up and the conversation went something like this…

• ME: YOU got rid of the Fort?!
• HER: Yes I sure did.
• ME: Why would you do something like that???
• HER: Cuz I was sick of it. It was time to go.
• ME: Who are you to say when it’s time to go? I thought it was the boss or someone that has authority over me that removed it.
• HER: It was. I am an authority over you.
• ME: THE HELL YOU ARE!
• HER: (laughing) Whatever. I took it down. I put all your stuff back on your desk. Deal with it.
• ME: You’re a FORT WRECKER! I can’t believe you did that.
• EVERYONE ELSE IN THE OFFICE: Boooooo Fort Wrecker!!!

I paraphrased that conversation and in reality I never raised my voice in anger, I was mostly teasing her and telling her I was going to get her back. I think my cube neighbors were more angry that even I was. I actually really like this girl and I was very surprised that she paid enough attention to what I do to make any effort at all to piss me off. If someone takes the time to try and piss you off, you’re either in their dome or you matter to them on some level. So I guess I should be flattered that I have an effect on her.

The following days every time someone came by and asked what happened to The Fort I just told them to ask the Fort Wrecker and pointed in her direction. And after much encouragement I decided to rebuild the Fort and make it bigger and better than ever. Our engineer saved some giant pieces of card board for me, my cube neighbor, Sweet Pete, kindly offered to be my project manager and head architect, and our surrounding cube-mates asked if they could be a part of the new and improved Fort Duplex. Things were really looking promising and the excitement was spreading like wildfire. So today was the big day and Sweet Pete brought in his box cutter, tape measure and various types of adhesive, and we got right to work. Here are a few photos of our project and the end result…

Sweet Pete takes measurements

Sweet Pete quality checks construction materials

The Fort Duplex over Sweet Pete's cube

Rachel wanted to be a part of the Fort remodel with a porch cover in her cube.

After everything was constructed we had covered the entire row of 4 cubicles and we felt really good about the project, which had really just gotten started. It was about that time that the boss made his way over to my desk. He didn’t look happy and I knew EXACTLY what was coming. He regretfully informed me that he had received a complaint from an unnamed coworker about the new Fort and that he would let me keep it up for a few days but that I needed to take it down after that. I asked who complained and he wouldn’t tell me and no one has fessed up yet. It would be wrong to presume it was the Fort Wrecker who complained so I will consider her innocent until proven guilty. However, I did have a great time breaking the news to everyone that came by with compliments on the new Fort just in hopes that whomever complained could hear the disappointment in their voice as they ask who would do such a horrible thing. I don’t know who would because I really like all of my coworkers and I don’t think anyone is genuinely mean spirited. Maybe someone is on their period or having troubles at home and they’re taking it out on The Fort. Whatever the case may be, it’s unfortunate. Someone suggested I make buttons that say “I support The Fort” and offer them to my coworkers that were positively effected by The Fort. Since I don’t know how to make buttons, I think I’m going to offer this sign to any coworker that would like to hang it in their cube in support of creative freedom in the workplace and maintaining a fun and happy work environment. I’m really impressed with the graphics -> 

With that said, there’s a lesson to be learned here. I’m not sure what it is but if you think you’ve figured it out please let me know.

Sometimes being harmlessly mean for no reason can be super fun. I’m not talking the “I just cut you off because you’re driving 35 in a 55″ type of harmless mean, I’m talking the the type of mean where you remove all the staples from your coworkers stapler who always complains about other people not refilling the community stapler. Or the type of mean where you draw a mustache on the face of your passed out friend because they went down for the count before you did. What? You’re not supposed to do that when you’re 33? Oopsie. And also the type of mean where you tell your nephews that Disneyland burned down and Mickey Mouse died in the fire. Actually I’ve never used that one but now I can’t wait for the next time I see my nephews. I tweeted earlier tonight about dropping ice cubes on the floor just to watch my dogs get super excited about the edible accident and then watching the look of disappointment on their faces as I say out loud “Sucks to be you”. I’m 98% sure that both dogs know exactly what “sucks to be you” means, because the look on their face is a clear interpretation of a middle finger. Sometimes at the gym I’ll move the weights up about 10lbs on a machine when I walk by and see the person using it has walked to the fountain to grab a drink between sets. I consider that the friendly type of mean, like setting someone’s clock ahead by 5 minutes without them knowing it.

A trainer at the gym was the friendly type of mean the other day when he told me, ever so politely, that I’m fat. He’s not MY trainer, he’s just a trainer that was helping me with the free fit-test that came with enrollment. I’m way too cheap to pay a trainer to help me workout regularly, but the freebie session was a REAL eye opener. It went something like this…. HIM: Ok, let’s calculate your body fat percentage    ME: Ok but don’t let me see the scale because I don’t want to know how much I weigh right now.  HIM: Well then why are you doing this?    ME: Because it’s free and I thought you were kind of cute. HIM: You’re a little bit crazy aren’t you?    ME: Maybe. I still don’t want to see how much I weigh though.   ….After the body scan thingy we moved on to the pushup test. Here’s how that went… HIM: Can you do boy pushups?     ME: What the fuck bro, do I look like I need to be on my knees? Wait…don’t answer that.   HIM: Nice. Let’s just see how many you can do.    ME: Should I use a perfect pushup thingy or just go down on my hands?    HIM: Are you being serious?     ME: No (as proceed to knock out 20 boy style pushups).     HIM: Wow, that was impressive, you went all the way down on all of them.    ME: I’m biting my tongue on that one.    HIM: Thank you. Let’s do the stretch test.     ME: I don’t feel flexible lately, I’m stressed and that makes me tense.     HIM: You shouldn’t stress yourself out. When you stress the cortisol levels in your body are raised and your body stores fat blah, blah, blah, blah.    ME: THANK YOU. I’ll just decide to not be stressed anymore from now on. Any more life changing advice you have for me?    HIM: No, but congratulations, you have the flexibility of an 18 year old girl.    ME: Write that down. *wink*  …. From there we did the cardio test where I surprisingly tested slightly above average. I think it was due to the fact that I was simply distracted. For the entire 5 minute cardio interval he gave me pointers on how to “make my ass smile” instead of frown. And he asked me “do you want to be single forever? You need to find yourself a man and if you want that to happen you need to get that ass in shape”.  He sure was a straight shooter. It was around that time that I decided he wasn’t cute anymore. The fit-test finale included an overview of my body fat percentage, at which time he told me how much I weighed to which I said once agian “What the fuck bro?!”. He apologized and wrapped things up with and an overview of my “fitness age”. I was calculated at 34 years old, 10 months older than I actually am. The finale went something like this…    HIM: You’re above average in strength, flexibility and cardio, but you have way too much fat. You really need to lose quite a bit of fat from your body.   ME: Thanks for the motivational speech, asshole. Care to share anymore bad news before I leave here in tears?   HIM: You should really try to reduce the amount of stress in your life. Stress releases Cortisol and that causes your body to store fat. Try to avoid stressful situations. ME: Thank you ONCE AGAIN for this insight. I can literally feel myself getting fatter by the second as I sit here in this chair because this conversation is stressing me the fuck out!! Any other pointers before I go and slit my wrists in the sauna?”    HIM: (Blank stare)

Now, I know this guy was legitimately trying to help me out and I sincerely appreciated his advice and MAYBE he wasn’t as big a dick as I made him out to be, but it certainly was an eye opener. I haven’t been back to the gym since. But you get my point, some types of mean are the fun type. I have a feeling that previously-cute-trainer-guy enjoys the motivational type of mean that his job entails. And he is entitled to. Next time I’m at the gym I’m going to enjoy my type of harmless mean by squeezing some Visene into the unnecessary GALLON  jug of water he carries around while he’s occupied ruining another trainee’s day with a fit-test. Good times. Good cardio. Good revenge.

The other night my dog projectile vomited on my roommate. It came out of nowhere. We were both laying on opposite ends of the couch and suddenly I hear this loud pop-like sound and then a “khack!!” followed by a loud scream. I yelled “WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?” and she says “Beanie just puked on me!!!”. I tried so hard but I couldn’t keep from laughing hysterically. I got up and couldn’t see any puke on the floor and when I asked where it was she simply held up the blankie she was curled up on the couch with. It looked like it was literally shot on to the blanket from a shotgun. I was impressed and I’m pretty sure Beanie was equally impressed with herself. There was no reason for the projectile vomiting except that she’d recently eaten dinner and she often drinks too much water and then proceeds to race around the living room jumping and playing, causing herself to upchuck like a freaking toddler. The only thing that could have made the whole situation better was if I had gotten video of shotgun puppy puke so I could play it back in slow motion and watch it over and over and over again.

In all honesty, I was really embarrassed. I feel responsible for my dogs actions just like most parents feel responsible for their kid’s bad behavior. I don’t know that I could have done anything to prevent the shotgun puke incident, but that’s really the least embarrassing thing she does. For some reason she thinks it’s appropriate to bring pieces of her own poo inside the house to show it off, as if I will be impressed that she accomplished such a giant turd. I try to reprimand her for it but she just keeps doing it. The neighbors are probably wondering what’s going on when I scream “I don’t want to see how big your shit is, Bean Burrito!!”. I sometimes wonder if I have the reputation as the annoying neighbor and I don’t know it.

Even though I’m not positive if I’m the annoying neighbor, I’m 98% sure that I’m the annoying coworker. And I’m totally ok with it. I’m not saying that I enjoy annoying my coworkers, but I think there are different types of annoyances. I guess the more appropriate adjectives to describe my role in the work place would be juvenile and borderline unprofessional. For example, I built a fort in my cubicle with some giant pieces of cardboard that were leaning against the wall by my desk. I don’t know why, I guess I just didn’t want the cardboard to go to waste, and it seemed to fit perfectly over my cube. See….

The Fort has become a bit of a novelty around the office and has developed in to more of a community project. People keep adding random items to The Fort and leaving their mark on it in some way or another. One coworker that I had previously never spoken to, brought a bag of popcorn to The Fort just because he wanted to contribute.

Now I feel like we’re homies. Even though he’s like 50 something, I know nothing about him and we seemingly have nothing in common, we now have The Fort in common. Nice guy. Someone else printed out some tacky artwork and hung it up in The Fort, another guy taped a condom to the roof of The Fort with a note that said “in case of emergency”, there are 2 mini-samurai swords for protection against intruders, I got the latest issue of Playboy and my cube neighbor, Pete, added a campfire to my file cabinet. He also threatened to report me to the homeowners association if I didn’t clean up the area around my Fort since we share a property line. I politely told Pete that the Fort was increasing property values in a neighborhood that has previously been plagued with foreclosures. That shut him up in a hurry. That and I threatened him with my mini-samurai sword.

While the Fort may be somewhat of an eyesore, it’s not nearly as annoying as some things that other people in the office do. Take my coworkers obnoxious ringtone, for example. She sits across from me and leaves her cell phone sitting on her desk when she leaves the office with the ringer on full blast. So when people call her, it rings and rings and rings SO LOUD. Click here to listen to the MostAnnoyingRingToneEVER. I’ve literally been on the phone with a client and her phone has started ringing and they asked me “What is that horrible noise?”. THAT is how loud it is. But every time her phone rings I think maybe it outshines some of the obnoxious things that I do, so I guess I shouldn’t be that annoyed by it. One time I stole her phone and changed the ring tone to something soothing and peaceful. She had to have her kid change it back later that night since she didn’t know how to work her own cell phone. Another time I put her phone in the Donkey pinata that’s on top of the Fort. When she demanded that I tell her where I hid her phone I simply handed her the pinata and laughed as she stared at me in confusion. She really is a good sport but she refuses to change that damn ringtone.

If I did something that my coworkers legitimately thought was disruptive or obnoxious, I can’t say I’d stop doing those things all together, but I would definitely stop doing them when they were around. There is nothing I like better than goofing off, being silly and making people laugh or at least crack a smile. It’s a lot easier to get through the day when I know I’m coming to work in a Fort stocked with popcorn, condoms, mini-samurai swords, fake campfires and the July Playboy. And one more thing that has been the icing on the cake to an already awesome Fort experience….the cardboard came from a 6 foot wide dry-erase board that my boss was putting on the wall in her office. I can’t say I didn’t warn her this would happen….

And she still doesn’t hide her markers.

I had an awkward conversation with a girl recently at a bar. It was only awkward because she kept rambling on and on  and her nipple kept slipping out of her skanky tank top. I don’t remember exactly how or why she started talking to me  but the whole thing made me uncomfortable. The conversation went something like this…. HER: “Jeez, it takes forever to get a drink around here. How long have you been waiting?”   ME: “Well I ordered an annoying type of drink so I expect the bartender will instantly hate me and make my drink her last priority (in my head: OH MY GOD I JUST SAW YOUR NIPPLE!).   HER: “That shouldn’t matter! What did you order?”    ME: “An orange mojito. In my defense, it is on the menu (OH MY GOD I CAN LITERALLY SEE YOUR NIPPLE RIGHT NOW!!)    HER: “I just need a jack and coke…blah blah blah blah blah”.    ME: “I’m sure she’ll get over here soon so you can order (OMG THERE IT IS AGAIN! HOW DO YOU NOT FEEL THE BREEZE ON YOUR PARTIALLY EXPOSED NIPPLE WHEN CLEARLY YOU ARE COLD?!).    HER: “I’m going to have to order a double because obviously it’s going to take too long  blah blah blah”. I wished her luck and proceeded to grab my cell phone and pretend I was texting someone. Now that I think of it, I should have taken a picture of her nip slip and been texting it to my friends but that would have been too obvious. I almost suggested she try showing some skin to get the bartenders attention but if showing nipple wasn’t working I don’t think my cleavage suggestion was going to do the trick. Luckily I got my drinks and she got to order shortly after that and I scurried away giggling and slightly confused. I felt bad for not saying something, but I kinda think she was ok with the whole thing. I mean, it’s not like she could have put on that tank top and observed herself in the mirror and thought “I’m good, I’ll skip the double sided tape tonight” unless she was ready and willing to show some nip. I tried to find a picture of a nip slip similar to what I witnessed and I found SO MANY hilarious famous nip slips. Here are a few for your viewing pleasure….

I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly….

BRITNIP!

This one is pretty close to what I saw at the bar…

Bling Bling!!

Mischa Barton is such a douche.

“Boobs are like an accessory” – Jessica Simpson

I guess we know where she’s NOT hiding her cocaine…

This pic came up when I googled “Celebrity nip slip”. I have no idea who he is, but he means business…

At what point are you responsible to have a strangers back? 99 times out of 100 I would have been like “hey girl, I can totally see your boob right now” or “I almost wore that same shirt but it totally shows my nipples”. But this girl seemed content with the situation, and whether she knew it was showing or not, she pulled it off. And I’m sure it ended up benefiting her in some way through out the night as she started talking to guys at the bar.  What about when a stranger does something that you have a major problem with, do you speak up then? Whenever I see someone litter or throw a cigarette butt on the ground I desperately want to say something, politely of course. But I don’t because I am not without flaws. And who am I to instruct others on what they should or shouldn’t do? Sometimes the passive aggressive route is a safe alternative to confronting a stranger. A couple times I have taken a photo of someone that parked their car like a total a-hole and tweeted the picture. One time some dude cut me off and almost caused an accident so I took a photo of him as I drove by and TwitPic’d that as well, making sure to point out that he’s a giant dickwad. So childish, yet so satisfying.

Before I wrap this up I want to let you know that if I ever have a nip slip, PLEASE TELL ME. I can assure you that it is not intentional. And if you see a hilarious nip slip at the bar, try to sneak a pic and text it to me. KTHXBAI.

My oldest nephew is 8 years old and he just got his first cell phone. It’s mostly because his parents are going out of town and they want him to feel like he can still reach them at anytime while he and his brothers are staying with grandma. I think the talk went something like this “Cody, this is a big privilege and you are to ONLY use the phone in case of an emergency. And if you lose it, you’re not getting another one”. Since that conversation 24 hours ago I have personally received 2 phone calls from Cody just to see what I am doing and 3 texts, none of which constituted an emergency, unless you consider him telling me his score at bowling league an emergency. It was 127 for the record, which is actually worthy of a text in my opinion . The first text he sent me said “were ar u”. Now, I have to admit that I spent a lot of time contemplating my response here. There is nothing I love more than correcting someone’s spelling, especially when it’s a very simple word. This is not because I’m a grammar nazi, it’s just because I relish any opportunity to poke fun at people who can take it. And Cody prides himself on being the best reader and speller in his 2nd grade class. I’ve asked him for some form of documentation to back up this claim, but he has yet to provide it. I wanted to rip into him but I’m not sure if he understands how to read a sarcastic tone of voice portrayed in a text at 8 years of age. Here are a few responses that I had in mind for “were ar u”….

- “Cody, I just told your dad you text me and it wasn’t an emergency. You’re fucked”.

- “Im wit yer 6 yr old bruther who spels betr than u”

- “I’m at Chuck E. Cheese with your little brother. We won 3000 tickets. Sucks you had to go to bowling league loser”

- “Hi Caden! You’re my favorite nephew and don’t tell Cody about that $10 I gave you yesterday”

- “Learn how to spell fucktard and then maybe I’ll tell you where I’m at”

After much consideration I decided not to go with any of those responses and I simply told him I was at the park.  He proceeded to text me back and tell me that he’d call me when he gets there. Apparently arriving at the park qualifies as an emergency.  When I found him at the park I stole his phone and took picture of myself making a funny face and made it the default image on his home screen. And if he had a facebook page I would have updated his status from his phone to say some thing awesome about myself.  I’ve also decided that I’m going to start drunk dialing him at 2am to tell him my bowling scores. He needs to learn quickly that having a cell phone is not only a privilege, but it comes with certain disadvantages, too.

Sometimes I completely forget that I am an adult. Not just in regards to teasing my nephews, but in my every day life. I gravitate towards the only children in a crowded room, I say incredibly immature things, if I see a skateboard I have to fight the urge to ride it, if there’s a video game I desperately want to play it and I think of ways to make fun of 8 year olds that misspell their first text. I spent today surrounded by kids at an event we had for work, so for the most part I was completely in my element. I got up at 5am which is only an hour earlier than when I get up on weekdays but I was exhausted regardless. There are worse things than having to be working a kid’s event at the park for 11 hours on a beautiful Saturday, but today was the Kentucky Derby and I really was wishing I could have spent the day relaxing and betting on horses – not sure if that is what an adult would do or someone who is incredibly juvenile, but I am what I am. I don’t have much of a strategy when I bet horses, I usually go with my gut. I almost always bet the 6 horse, I hate betting on horses that are wearing orange, I bet the horse who’s name sparks a fond memory, and I like to do a trifecta with at least one super big long shot in it. This strategy has not served me well. Today a friend of mine texted me and asked if I wanted her to put in any Derby bets since I had to be at the park all day and I was ECSTATIC. Mostly because this chick really knows how to pick em. She ALWAYS wins when she bets the big races. I just told her to put my money where she was putting hers and let me know what I owed her. Needless to say, she picked the exacta and we won $200 each! I was so excited I almost peed myself when I found out. Minus my investment I’m up $176 so now I just have to figure out how much candy, baseball cards and silly bands that will get me.

Another friend of mine had asked me today “are we too old for this?” in regards to a conversation about current trends and styles and without a second thought I said “F*CK NO!”. It made me wonder if I will become that 60 year old woman that wears low rise jeans and who still gets a running start before she jumps and rides on the back of her shopping cart. I sure hope I do. I have a debilitating fear of becoming that person who loses touch with people younger than me, having to make sure I get a certain number of hours of sleep, and caring more about what people think than about what makes me happy. So instead I will be that old lady that all the kids make fun of for wearing low rise jeans and riding on her shopping cart. I’ll probably be wearing awesome sneakers, too. I have a long list of problems and responsibilities that qualify me as an adult and make me feel old, I don’t want to add my behavior and my personality to that list. You can think I’m immature or juvenile, but please remember to tell me when you think it because hearing it is just as good as getting carded at the grocery store. And if you ever want to ride skateboards at the park  or challenge me at Guitar Hero, hit me up on facebook. Just make sure not to misspell anything that you post on my wall.

And for the record, if I would have picked the horses today I would have bet on “7-Pants on Fire” and “6-Comma to the Top” and “13-Mucho Macho Man”. And I would have lost.