Drowning in sorrow and Miller Lite

My beloved Brewers were swept this weekend. I drank a lot.

Also, my parents, sister, and future brother-in-law joined in the fun of a weekend of losses with the Brew Crew.

Which brings me to the point:
Loving loved ones' loved ones? Do we have to like our loved ones significant others? My sister has been dating C. for nearly 6 years. They bought a house together 4 years ago. I really think he's obnoxious and rude. (Coincidentally, WI BFF's boyfriend said he could easily be my brother because we're so much alike.)

So what is the obligation to love, like, or even tolerate our loved ones significant others? They are getting married in just over a year, so it looks like I'm stuck with him. At this point, I basically can continue to tolerate him and be snide after a few cocktails, or I can somehow actually open up to him and maybe understand why he won't let anyone finish a thought. Fight or Flight, Sink or Swim, Shit or Get off the Pot time.

The tough thing is that since I spend such a short amount of time with him, and so infrequently, due to the 300 miles between us, that when I do see him, I'm annoyed solely that he is there being rude during the time with my family that I also rarely get to see. Maybe that's the real issue at hand: Is it possible to resent someone for trying to join the family? Fact: he is rude. However, maybe that's what it really is about - me just being pissed that he's "taking away" my big sister.

Oh goodness I need therapy.

WikiWHAT?

Being a generation Y'er, I look for all life's solutions on the internet. Need a new job? Go to careerbuilder.com. Need a new roommate? Go to Craigslist (especially if you want your new roommate to murder you in your sleep!). Need to know something about your current ailment and/or stalker? Google that shit.

Now that I'm a little older and wiser than my previous life as a college undergrad, I now know not to trust WebMD to diagnose me with anything other than pregnancy or cancer (I was convinced I had cancer at least 14 times in my undergrad). I also know, working for TNPM, being a very specific national health organization, that people should rely on the experts for information. (for example, DONT go to WebMD if you seriously think you have cancer. Go to your f-ing doctor or at least visit a website that doesn't cite wikipedia).

Here's where I find my beef. I have had a migraine for 3 days. Of course, I googled "migraine" today at work when I could barely open my eyes wide enough to read the computer screen. I wasn't sure what I wanted for google results - but wikipedia was not on the top of my list. Yet, there it was under the two sponsored results for Tylenol and babysitting service (get it - migraine causes? haha I jest.) People are not a smart race, so I hereby petition that google puts some sort of "dumbass filter" on their search engine. For example, if you see that my past google history includes "donkey punch" and "cyborg mating", up goes the dumbass filter, so I am automatically routed to accredited informational websites. If I'm googling "neurophysics" and "grant applications", no need for the dumbass filter. You can probably rest assured that I'll be able to resist clicking Wikipedia and will look for the mayo clinic website.

Clarification from the Hot 100

I have decided I should probably clarify why I want to do some of the things I want to do... so here's a glimpse into my crazy head:
1. Sneak into a "double feature" movie - and only pay for one!
I really want to do this simply because I love movies. I love crappy movies, sad movies, chick flicks, monster flicks, and porn. If I can get 2 for the price of 1 - my question is, why haven't I yet?
2. Have sex in a church. I grew up Catholic and I think I had my first kiss in a confessional. Not with a Priest, but with some boy from my grade school. I'm not atheist, but I might be a bit of an exhibitionist. If the church has a balcony, even better.
3. Stand up in a wedding. I need to be able to say I've done this once in my life. And I get to next summer, provided I don't kill my sister's fiance first.
4. Win an eating contest. I'm a big girl, and this would just be the ultimate showdown of my life. I am confident I can do an eating contest - but win? Yikes, that's intense. Maybe I should change it to "enter an eating contest", but technically I was in an eating contest 6 years ago. And I almost puked up Totino's Pizza Rolls, but so worth it.
5. Visit Ireland. I'm 50% Irish and there is a mountain apparently named after my family in some town with the Horkans.
6. Swim with sharks in South Africa. For those of you that don't know me, I am totally, weirdly obsessed with Shark Week. If I could call in sick for the entirety of the week (although all the shows are at night), I would in a heartbeat. And we all know why people watch shark shows. I want to see blood and guts, and preferably a human be eaten alive. As swimming with Great Whites is a dream of mine, and shark cages really don't do anything - Mindy, you're right, I should probably put this last on my list. Why South Africa? Ever heard of AIR JAWS???? You can borrow my VHS. Then you can come over for my "blood red" velvet cake during my Shark Week Party. There are also pigs in a blanket.
7. Tour the pyramids. Also, very strange obsession with Egypt/mummies/Middle Eastern religion. Nothing like sharks, but anytime I can catch a documentary on King Tut, I'm all ears.
8. Skydive. This would easily be one of my biggest fears of all time (terrified of heights). If I can put that fear aside for just a few seconds, I imagine it would be quite a thrill.
9. Bungee jump. Similar thought process.
10. Own a house. Nothing says "I'm a big bad grown up" like a mortgage!
11. Do stand-up comedy. I think I'm hilarious, so other people probably will, right?
12. Be on a radio or TV show about something other than work. Preferably Conan, SNL, or Orpah rather than Maury.
13. Go to Rome/the Vatican. And sneak into the Vatican Archives and not get killed (nerd alert!) Read Angels and Demons. And be Catholic. You'll get it.
14. Write a children's book. I had to write one in 8th grade and it was tons of fun. I really think I miss being a kid.
15. See an SNL taping. One of the best show on earth, as long as you haven't seen it after 2001 or before the Andy Samberg era.
16. Get certified in ASL translation. Took classes for 3 years, LOVED IT. Too bad I'm such a talker, and the Deaf professors always kicked me out. What a great way to enter into a new culture!
17. GET A NEW JOB. I hate my current job. It is a succubus.
18. See the Northern Lights. If I can't go to space (I think the fear of heights might be WAY much for that), why not bring space to me, i.e. solar flares?
19. See Stonehenge. Again, strange obsession with pagan religions... OR ALIENS!
20. Have a non-life-threatening parasite and poop it out. Just to say, "Oh you went to Jenny Craig? Well I have a tapeworm. 45 pounds in 3 weeks!" I would just really like to say that I had a parasite, I feel like it would be a very cool story. Maybe I'll just start telling people I had one. I watch enough Grey's Anatomy to figure it out!
21. Go on an archaeological dig and find something awesome. Nerd alert - love dinosaurs. LOVE them. I am so excited for the new Land of the Lost, I can barely contain myself from watching the trailer over and over again at work. Not to mention that Hulu.com just recently posted all episodes of LotL.

Blog vs. Diary

So I've actually shared this blog with my WI BFF recently. Actually, she's the first person I've ever shared it with. (shout out Kate!) And actually, she might be the only person still who has ever read it.

Which brings me to the discussion: If I cut a tree down in the woods, but actually the tree was in my woods and no one is allowed on my property, and actually I didn't even tell anyone where I lived, did I really cut down a tree or did I just landscape? Similarly, if I write a blog, and I don't tell anyone about it or share it - is it really a blog? Or is it just an internet diary?

The latter I find quite ridiculous, since the last time I had a "diary"... I was 13 and I'm pretty sure I wrote about how I would punch Emily in the face if she told Dan I liked him. And this blog is much less violent.

Maybe I should make this blog actually about something, rather than just my rambling rantings. Alas - NOT a diary.

Fur... LOW.

I have a 12 hour rule with work. If I get home at 10 pm, I am not allowed to be back to the office until after 10 am.

Guess how often I follow my own rule.

Let's just also be aware that TNPM has no written policy on "flex time" (as most companies don't - real world folks.) However, I will complain for just a minute... My average work day is 14 hours long. 4 days a week (Fridays are usually the typical 8 hours, unless I have an event - i.e. 26 hours). Not to mention my second job, where I generally do 10 hours on Saturday and/or Sunday, but that doesn't count.


So TNPM has instituted 4 furlough days this year. I totally get it. I would much rather have 4 unpaid days than to see any of my coworkers (or me, yikes) laid off. The problem is, when you work for an entity such as TNPM, a day without working or getting paid for it pretty much sets you back a day, and you wind up working those 8 hours in somewhere else because shit's gotta get done, but not getting paid because you're on salary. And like I'm really going to tell my volunteer who calls my cell phone at 9 am that I am on furlough and can't talk because I'm not getting paid. F that noise.

However, this weekend, I will not be answering phone calls from volunteers. NAY - the Brewers are in town and my folks are visiting for the game! I fully intend on showing them the awesomeness that is the MSP. Sans life-interrupting phone calls.

Ah yes, and I survived the big 2-5. I also kept my dignity, which is huge these days.

Complete Hot 100 list

1. Sneak into a "double feature" movie - and only pay for one! 
2. Have sex in a church.
3. Stand up in a wedding (I get to accomplish this next summer!)
4. Win an eating contest.
5. Visit Ireland.
6. Swim with sharks in South Africa.
7. Tour the pyramids.
8. Skydive.
9. Bungee jump.
10. Own a house.
11. Do stand-up comedy.
12. Be on a radio or TV show about something other than work.
13. Go to Rome/the Vatican. And sneak into the Vatican Archives and not get killed (nerd alert!)
14. Write a children's book.
15. See an SNL taping.
16. Get certified in ASL translation.
17. GET A NEW JOB.
18. See the Northern Lights.
19. See Stonehenge.
20. Have a non-life-threatening parasite and poop it out. (I'm not saying this is all cool stuff, its just to say I've done it!)
21. Go on an archaeological dig and find something awesome.
22. Take a class and actually understand how to fix my own car.
23. Take a cooking class!
24. Crash a wedding dressed as a superhero


Bold items = done and done!

Quarter of a Century

I turn 25 this week. WOW.

I honestly never expected this to bother me so much. Maybe not so much the fact that I will be 25, but maybe the fact that I feel like I haven't accomplished a damn thing in my life. I've officially lived for a quarter of a century and really don't have anything to show for it.

It's not that I haven't "done" anything. (I haven't.) I think it's that I haven't done anything that merits another 25 years. I don't want to waste oxygen or anything like that for someone who might actually get stuff done in this world.

So I've decided to start a "top 100" list of things I want to accomplish in my life. Not a bucket list, since that's pretty damn morbid.
In no particular order, here goes:
1. Sneak into a "double feature" movie - and only pay for one! (See, I really haven't done much).
2. Have sex in a church.
3. Stand up in a wedding (I get to accomplish this next summer!)
4. Win an eating contest.
5. Visit Ireland.
6. Swim with sharks in South Africa.
7. Tour the pyramids.
8. Skydive.
9. Bungee jump.
10. Own a house.
11. Do stand-up comedy.

I'll keep these coming as my years start to collapse on me.

Favre, you used to be my God.

Brett Favre, you fucking suck. The entire state of Wisconsin and some loyal fans outside the Cheddar Walls built you, you fuck. Remember when you threatened to retire after 1997's big Super Bowl win? I do. Broke my heart, but I remember, as much as a 7th grader can, thinking - good for you. Go out in style. Remember when you threatened to retire a few years later, after your dad passed away? We were right there with you. Remember when you cheated on your cancer survivor wife and we still loved you? Do you remember when you came out as being addicted to pain killers and we said, "At least it's not coke?" DO YOU REMEMBER?

And then, you finally did it. You really retired. We were so proud to have had you, and so sad to let you go. But we knew you needed to do it. Spend time with the family. Endorse shit. Spread the love. Ohhh but then you came back out of retirement. We wouldn't have you. This is like the story of the boy who cried. Not cried wolf, just cried, "I'm a little bitch, and you need me. So you'll have me or I'll show you!" With the Jets? Really, you tried to show us with the Jets. Well lookie here bucko - sure, they had a great season with you, but Rogers rocked Lambeau. We can survive without you.

Now, one year henceforth, you're pulling the same old shit again. The Vikings are wooing you, and even they know that its a grudge match in the end. You're starting to seem like the dirty cousin who just got out of rehab and needs $1,000 to pay his rent/car payment/ coke habit. And the Vikings are going to loan the cash, because they really think you've got your shit together this time. And you can throw the shit out of a football, and lord knows they need you.

All I can say is, if I see the number 4 on a purple jersey... I don't care who's wearing it, they're going up in flames.