Everything you want to know and then some plus 37

1. I am scared of basically everything. Including Fish, Birds, Spiders, Snakes and enchilada cheese.
2. I wish I had a southern accent. Like, really bad.
3. When I was little I would pretend I was a waitress, a Police officer or a Genie.
4. When I was 5 I convinced my Aunt my floral pajamas were an outfit and wore them to a fancy restaurant.
5. I get tired of things after 6 months.
6. I won best author in 3rd grade with a story about a can of magic beans that make you toot. No kidding.
7. I am attracted to men that have big snouts.
8. I dislike the word ‘sexy’. So much I have stopped dating someone who says that to me.
9. It makes me uncomfortable when a person doesn’t make eye contact with me.
10. I never finish my drinks. I don’t know why.
11. I can never seem to screw the lid on to the Orange juice correctly.
12. I lose the toothpaste cap. Every time. AND I squeeze from the middle.
13. I want 2 children.
14. I would like to own a pot bellied pig named Lola.
15. I really wish the O.C. was still on television.
16. I want to write a book. I have no idea what to write it about.
17. In 9th grade I puked during our class panoramic picture. On the cutest boy in school.
18. In 8th grade I fell in front of the ENTIRE school while dancing to ‘Yellow Submarine’
19. I have a thing for drummers
20. My boyfriend’s house is haunted. The ghosts name is Chet. I think Chet is an asshole.
21. My mother caught me smoking when I was like 11. She made me eat them. My father brought me candied cigarettes as a joke. My mother hit him with them. I didn’t smoke again until I was 24.
22. My imaginary friend’s name was Penelope.
23. I had a cat named Poo who ran away. I was convinced he ran away to the North Pole to eat snow. He really ran away because I would put him in the toilet and stuck him down my diaper.
24. I would pour my spagettios down my diaper too. I guess to save them for later.
25. My favorite song when I was little was Boy Georges “Coma coma coma Cameleon”
26. I had a crush on the kid form the Goonies and pretended I couldn’t breathe so I could have an inhaler too. I couldn’t convince my doctor.
27. I pretended I fell while rollerblading. Made up the entire thing and the doctor took X-rays and put on a pink cast. I soaked it off in the hot tub 3 days later.
28. I use to tell people that my Mothers orange Kool-aide mustache was her accessory of choice. You know, like your CTR ring.
29. I use to wear a CTR ring to fit in on the playground. I had no clue what it meant.
30. I played Puck in a Midsummer’s Nights Dream.
31. I want to go to Thailand.
32. I love Brussels sprouts.
33. I have been stung by a bee twice. Each time I stepped on one.
34. When I was in a car accident at age 5, I hit my face on the wind shield. I wasn’t wearing a seat belt because I was wearing a pink hula hoop dress and didn’t want to crinkle it. I kept shrieking to the paramedics “My poor beautiful face!!”
35. I use to play an old Monkees Record on my grandmothers record player over and over and over to ‘Day dream believer’
36. My grandfather taught me how to ride my bike.
37. I was convinced I would marry Joey McIntyre from New Kids on the Block.
38. My old boss waived a shotgun at me once in a bar parking lot.
39. I knew I would Love my boyfriend the minute I laid eyes on him
40. I was married for two years. Then I met my boyfriend.
41. I am only competitive when it comes to how cute I look compared to other women.
42. I think Whiskey tastes like a grandfathers burp.
43. Farts make me laugh.
44. I think Family Guy is the most creative television show ever produced.
45. I want to be cremated. Note: If anyone puts me in an open casket I will haunt the hell out of you!
46. I would like to live in another state for awhile.
47. I wish I had a boat.
48. I rarely make the right decision. (Perhaps it’s because I don’t wear that CTR ring)
49. I love my car.
50. I could be a cowgirl.
51. I take slutty women personally.
52. I don’t care much for Oprah.
53. I wish I lived on the set of the Brady Bunch.
54. I wish the Jetsons and Fragel Rock were still on television.
55. Halloween is my favorite holiday. I don’t know why. I get upset every year at the fact that finding a costume that doesn’t resemble a Las Vegas call girls apparel is out of the question.
56. I like to drink wine from regular cups.
57. I plug my nose when I take shots.
58. I can’t say pneumonia or aluminum right
59. I get car sick if I look away from the road
60. I am a prude. Or so my boyfriend tells me.
61. I have never seen my mother and step Dad kiss that goes for my Grandparents to.
62. My mother told me I looked like a ten cent hooker once when I wore red nail polish. I have never worn it since.
63. I wish I had never cut my hair.
64. I bore easily
65. I was born without patience
66. My right pinky toe is miss shaped.
67. Tommy Hilfiger cologne smells like wet quarters to me.
68. I ate octopus once and it stuck to my tongue.
69. I was locked in a trunk.
70. It grosses me out when people lick things. Popsicles, envelopes, ice cream etc...
71. I cried in the movie I am Legend
72. Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind is my favorite film.
73. I have a girl-crush on Jennifer Needles, the lead singer from Sugarland.
74. I have a regular crush on Robert Downy Junior. Oddly enough my boyfriend looks absurdly similar to him.
75. I think we should have a country wide nap time every day in the middle of the day like Spain and Mexico has. We should also be able to drink wine for lunch.
76. I love ethnic food.
77. I have never owned a big girl purse. Only tote bags.
78. I had my tongue pierced for 1 whole day.
79. I attract addicts.
80. I think Red bulls taste like wet smartees
81. I think I look terrible in Black
82. I like to copy other people but hate when someone copies me
83. I kill plants when I try to grow them
84. I can’t make Minute rice or mashed potatoes
85. I am not a very good decorator
86. Women usually don’t like me very much.
87. I am very animated
88. I am an unorganized Virgo. I think it’s because my Dad teased me so much when I was younger about being a Virgo.
89. I enjoy scheduled spontaneity
90. I don’t like it when things don’t go the way I wanted them to.
91. I want to one day go to the airport and buy one of the only available tickets to wherever it is going and go.
92. I love Yoga. But lose focus.
93. I don’t enjoy Breakfast foods. I usually eat cheetos and a Dr Pepper.
94. I loved sushi until I drank a bottle of Saki and puked it all over the dashboard of my car.
95. I love to watch Crime T.V.
96. I don’t like Harry Potter.
97. If you wan to piss me off wear socks with sandals and take me to Wal Mart.
98. I hate waiting in lines
99. I don’t think Roller Coasters are fun
100. I played catch with my hamster when I was little and still feel really really bad about it. He didn’t die... but still...

When a Dog bites.. When a Bee stings

Because of my resent and pesky funk I have emerged into, I have decided to make a list of all the little things that make me smile. I thought that this may help transcend me into my usual partially positive, life~isn’t~so~bad~a~tude. Here It goes.
*COUGH COUGH*
Clean, fresh, smell-good, downy soft sheets.
Gerber Daisy’s.
My Boyfriends laugh.
My Grandfather’s jokes.
My Grandmothers eye rolls at my Grandfathers jokes
Rainy days and nowhere to go
My little sisters homemade Oreo cookies
I dream of Jeanie and The Brady Bunch Re runs.
A fresh homemade watermelon kamikaze with good friends.
Tomato Sandwiches. With toasted wheat bread, Fresh Basil, salt & pepper and cream cheese.
A brand new pair of socks. Straight from the package.
A good-morning, good afternoon, or hello beautiful text message. ( I reckon it can say anything as long as Beautiful follows)
The song “Little ways” by Dwight Yoakam.
Genuineness( If its not a word, It is Now! )
Eric's kisses.Any kiss but I especially love the ones he gives me only every once in awhile where he closes his eyes and gives me multiple smooches all in a row on the mouth, cheek, forehead and head.
Clementine’s purr
Polaroids.
Little teeny tiny figurines.
The smell of patchouli oil. ( Yes, I shave my armpits!)
Any song by the Judds.
Old Photos of my Mother.
My Great Grandmothers patchwork quilt.
Pimento Cheese Sandwiches and Beanie Weenies.
Puppy Dogs.
A cigarette after an ice cold beer along side good conversation
The way my Father smells.
A blackberry swirled soft serve ice cream cone from Warrens.
A package with my name on it.
Ducks crossing the road all in a row.
Being woke up by sunlight flooding into a room.
A brand new outfit.
Steve Miller Bands lyric “ I really love your peaches wanna shake your tree”
A new hair-do
The smell of Pine trees
The airport. There you can find people at their truest moments. There is nothing better than people watching in an airport.
Dancing to Elvis
My 1970’s orange, brown and green chair. It rocks. Literally.
Experiencing goosebumps
Haunted houses ( after I get done crying )
Experiencing goosebumps on my heart ( I have only experienced this while at church watching Eric play his drums and while in the mountains talking about God with my Dad)
Facials
Butterflies ( Real and Figurative )
Old movies. The classics. ( Like..Goonies, Wild Hearts Can’t be broken, Steel Magnolias, Legend, Babes in Toyland, Labyrinth, The Princess Bride, The man in the moon, Fried Green Tomatoes, The never Ending Story, Dirty Dancing and Ghost)
The big, hairy, almost heart shaped Red monster from the old Looney Tunes. ( You know what I am talking about, teenage girls rat there hair nowadays almost exactly like this guy)
Boating ( With Dramamine in hand )
Playing like a child ( My boyfriend and I do this often)
Crying a good cry.. like the one when my Baby Nephew was born
Playing dress up
Entertaining
Seeing an elderly couple hold hands
Little drink umbrellas
New soap
My Meme’s mashed potatoes and fried green tomatoes.
Chicago dogs and Big League chew at a baseball game
Cotton Candy Bubbalicious bubble gum
Cupcakes
A cozy cotton hoody
Lightning storms
Monte Cristo
Rottweilers
The song 'Brown Eyed girl'
The memory of Eric and I's first date " Welp.. See ya later"
A bottle of Beaujolais out of dixie cups
Windows down with my feet on the dashboard
Fun Dip
Bouncy balls
When people read what I write and like it.
To name a few and in no particular order…
Holy Moly.. It worked!

Yeew Heew.. Sunshine? The skies are gettin a little gray over here

I need an attitude adjustment. That statement alone should be able to clue you all in to how my last few weeks have been going. But in case you are a moron, things are SHITTAY Yes, so crappy that I had to special-spell the layman's term of Shitty.
One: I fainted. Collapsed. Then plundered onto the hard, hot cement outside of the local watering hole in front of actual real live breathing people. I don’t know what happened. Ironically the doctors have no clue either. ‘It could have been the heat, dehydration, locked knees, or stress.’
Well... Seeming how I didn’t do shit all day all long that pretty much eliminates suggestion #1. I drank plenty of Dr Pepper, sprite and water so, No to #2. and while we are on the subject of drinking, I know what you are probably thinking. Rian at the watering Hole? How many Kamikazes’ did she have? 2. Which if you know anything about me at all you know that 2 Kami’s would do nothing to me. SO NO! I WASN’T INTOXICATED! Stress? Now, that may have something to it.
So there I was lying on the hot, hard cement outside of the local watering hole. My friends and foes and complete who the hell are you’s standing around my unresponsive body and the bouncer doing sternum rubs to get me to respond. It’s still unclear to me if I was in fact not breathing. Either way it felt like I’d imagine a tractor to the chest would feel. I awoke to pain and gawking faces and my head being held by the big burley door dude. Immediate reaction. Pissed! Let go of me! Why the hell are you holding my head?! Stare hard retards!Let me up! Yes I know my name idiot!
After the paramedics came and I refused to be transported to the ER in their ‘take every last dime you have’ mobile. My sweet boyfriend came to my rescue and filled my mind with scary what if you die like that Natasha brod stories. So, after they had me real good and paranoid my boyfriend, my good friend Krisi and Mike took me to the ER.
We sat down as a rather large man was rolled into the room by a weighed down wheelchair. Never have I felt sorry for an inanimate object before this day. The man looked as if he had been on a shower strike since 1951. And the moan this man was letting out was one of the most terrifying sounds I have ever had to listen to. MURRRAAARRGGGH over and over and over again. You would have thought that this mans lower half was separating and running away from his upper half. Ironically when the Nurse left the room the wailing ceased. This guy ought to get the Academy award along side his Oxycodone refill. The nurse took me back to a room first. Me. The girl wanting to go home insisting she was fine over the theatrical elephant man. Sucker.
The four of us waited in the room until a Doogie Howser look alike strolled in. I insisted I knew how it appeared but (I’ll say it again for those in the back who had a hard time hearing me before) I was NOT drunk! He took blood, wanted a CAT scan, X-ray’s the whole sha-bang. After my last ER visit I know an aspirin is about the same price as a down payment on a house so I asked him to please do only what he thought was absolutely necessary. A comment like that is like asking Abercrombie and Fitch if their 250 dollar jeans will make you breakfast in the mornings. Bringing cost into the equation made the doctor and his nurse hate my ever loving guts. But after 3 hours I received a clean bill of health with exception of having a significant concussion.
Over the next 5 days I felt dizzy, nauseous, spacey, dreamy, weak, confused along side a pounding brain rattling headache. It was heaps of fun.
I missed work. Two days of it. To make a long story short they are not at all happy with me. I think they must have been sitting way way way way in the back when I explained before that no, I didn’t pass out because I was drunk. Why? because I WASN’T DRUNK!
Regardless of my explaining I have gotten the cold shoulder since from every one at work. It’s August and I am in need of a parka.
On another note, a very off- key awful note..My Boyfriend and I found a cute little precious House. We applied. We got it. We set the move in date for September 1st. August 3rd we got word that my boyfriends work is out of work. Everyone knows no work, no money. No money, no house. No house, DAMN IT! Because living with your father when about to turn the ripe ole age of 27 is AWESOME.
I don’t get paid enough to sit by Satan who is parading around as Jack Nicholson all day to carry us for even a minute and it certainly doesn’t help that I have been running around town waving my credit card around like a physcopath to every new T-shirt that comes into view. And I still owe the ER a couple Hundo from my last visit where I was given a dose of magic Benadryl.
So if you have asked me in the past 2 weeks how I am and I have said "great, "fine", "good", "wonderful", "dandy" or even "ok" I was lying to you. I have now came to the realization that denial is not just a river in Egypt. I am mad. About lots of things. Pretty much in regards to everything. I have a real bad case of the F-it's.
Lately, my Mother’s side of the family in me has surfaced and all I can do is think... You’re 27 and live with your parent! You are broke, This is not AT ALL what you had in mind, life sucks, then ya die, and your hair is ugly!
Who wants to blow some sunshine up my ass?

Pop Stars and Goddess's

I have been intimidated to write after my last blog was brutally massacred and what was left of its tiny body was pasted to a local independent newspaper for all the world to see. RIP hopes of becoming a talented writer.
I guess I am taking it a little too personally. Forgive me. But for heavens sake nothing in that teeny tiny article had anything left after it's editing that made it mine. All my 'Rianisms' I happen to love so dearly were cut out. Damn you City Weekly. Damn you!
Anyway..
Lets change the subject. We could talk about what everybody else on this darn planet is talking about. Shall we? Yes. ( and yes, I answer my own questions now. It seems to be the only viable option in order to get what I want)
Michael Jackson. Tragic. Really. My heart goes out to his Children and his Family for their loss. Its been over a week now and if I hear one more MJ joke I might lose my mind. One more newscast devoted to the toxicology report results or burial sight or who gets the children I may unplug my television set. I can't even get on the Internet without some new headline in regards to this mans untimely death. I can tell you the results of the toxicology report. DRUGS. Copious upon copious amounts of them. As for his children's future.. Bless their hearts and I hope his mother gets custody. Or Janet. On second thought maybe just his mother.. we wouldn't want little Blanket enduring any wardrobe malfunctions at such a tender age.
I just can't seem to wrap my mind around the massive attention and grief this has received. Farrah Died. Ed McMahon Died and how about the hundreds or even millions of U.S. Soldiers that have died overseas for our freedom rather than our entertainment? I don't remember a newscast devoted to them or a moment of silence granted by the US congress or crowds of people at their funerals who they were fighting for in the first place. Forgive me, but it seems a little asinine to me. Has Thriller or Beat It or the sequin glove kept our streets safe, offered us the freedoms to say and live as we choose? Now had his albums reformed health care or lowered taxes or helped in finding a cure for cancer I could understand. But No. Entertainment, Inspiration, Crotch grabbing, Moon walking, survival of the 80's and a lot of gossip is really all it attributed to. All I am saying is the amount of energy, passion and respect the world is showing this man is also very much deserved to many other's as well. Rest in Peace King of Pop.
On to another subject.
I have been thinking a lot lately about religion and spirituality. As you all know I have been attending church on Sundays with my Boyfriend. I enjoy it very much. I also have been having deep conversations with my Father as well as my friends.
Last night I went to a Moon ceremony in honor of the Full Moon and the Goddess within. As I do in church I sat back and tried to remain open minded as I took it all in. With this particular experience it was hard to absorb it all in as I was shimmy and shaking along with these women in order to release the negativity from my body and balance my Chakras. We also wrote down all the things that we no longer need in our lives onto a piece of paper and released it into the fire. As I watched these women do this I saw how liberating it was for them. It was kind of neat to be able to experience it with them. Overall it was a really awesome and unique experience to be a part of. And although I don't think I got in touch with my inner 'goddess' or experienced enlightenment that night, I do think I came to a realization.
For me, my spirituality is something I would like to keep between myself and God. Something Personal I want to share with only my Family and my close friends. I don't want to bare testimony, I don't want to preach, I don't want to wear a name tag, I don't want to wear special clothing, do a sacred dance or take part in rituals. I just want to listen to beautiful music, see God's beauty all around me, take in the small miracles and blessings I have been given and aspire to better myself as a person each day of my life. I want to find God and experience God with freedom.
And for those who enjoy rituals, studies, testimonies, missions, chants, prayers, exercises, group devotionals, what have you. All power to you and to each their own. Who am I to say what's right or wrong or weird or crazy. I just know what works for me. Maybe as I get older things will change and I too will find something I choose to do to get in touch with God. Who knows what tomorrow brings. But I welcome it as I always have with an open heart and an open mind.

Tender topics stuffed away in the closet

Recently, there has been coverage in the media about Gay rights. From legalizing marriages to Pride parades to Adam Lambert coming out of the closet. I'm sorry, but if this young man was ever in the closet it was made of plexi-glass and the doors were left wide open.
(Nothing new) However, one story caught my boyfriend's eye who then caught my ear leading me to think twice about it. On the sitcom, 'So you think you can dance' there were two homosexual men who did a dance as a couple. One of the judges (conveniently a Simon Cowell look-a-sound-the-same ) critiqued the song choice. Saying that particular song was more suited for a man and woman duo. Well wouldn't ya know it. The gay community was in an up-roar. You would have thought that God himself started raining down playboys.
Now let me make myself clear. I could care less if a person is Gay or not gay or if they like both. I support Gay marriage. To each his own and mind your business is how I try to live my day to day. But I do find myself getting a little agitated when a community of people make a huge fuss over the smallest issue. A SONG??? Are ya kidding? Its not like he condemned these two men to Hell. He simply gave his opinion. Which let me remind you people, he is paid to do!
After several complaints and lime lit scrutiny he had to give a public apology for this statement. Why? Just as my Boyfriend has said , It would be so nice to see a person in the spotlight say "You know what, I'm not sorry. I didn't do anything wrong." How refreshing would it be to see someone refuse and point out how ridiculously sensitive people are. In this case it was over something so non-judgemental and without any homophobic innuendo what-so-ever.
What I don't understand is why the Gay community is able to say whatever they want in regards to people who don't share their lifestyle. I have yet to hear an apology from the other side of the spectrum. Example: This last Sunday here in Salt lake City a Gay rights activist spoke out against the leaders of the LDS church. Was he urged to make a apology? No, and I am sure many people of the Mormon faith were offended.
If people don't want to be treated differently then why do they go to such lengths to behave so much differently?
Adam Lambert is phenomenally talented. Does the fact that the boy prefers a Him over a Her change that? Ummm no. It makes him no better, no worse.
You want equality? Then pick your battles my friends. Those people who push their lifestyles on others IE: religious fanatics, Government officials, ignorant people etc.. are wrong. And it is my opinion that the individuals on the other side of these tender topics can be just as much in the wrong. Perhaps people could think twice about parading around in eccentric outfits or acting outrageous in order to express your differences in sexual preference, religious beliefs, Race, what have you.
This is not just a problem with Homosexuality it presents itself in every issue on earth. Just the other day I drove passed a car with a gigantic PRO LIFE sticker on her car. Why? Your opinion is your opinion and more than likely your outfit, your bumper sticker, your hateful words, your complaints and out cries are not going to change any one elses point of view. So why bother?
If a man and a man want to get married who cares??? You think God is against it? Then think God is against it. Those two individuals will be the ones facing the big man on their judgement day so how about we leave it to him!
Respect each other. Accept each other. People come in all shapes and sizes and shades of color. Who are we to decide what the right fit is? Or the right color? Just shut up and.. live your life squared, circled, octagoned, blue, orange, chartreuse, however you'd prefer. If you don't like me or the lifestyle I am leading. Don't. Chances are I don't like you or yours. But, do we really need banners and stickers and T-shirts to broadcast our differences to the world?

Sunday Bloody Sunday

My memorial day weekend was one of the more memorable weekends I have had in awhile
thanks to a bizarro Sunday afternoon. It started off as usual, woke up to take Eric to church, got in the car, decided to stop at McDonald's, was served by a lady who resembled IT. I never found Mcmuffins horrifying until this day. She left out Eric's order so we had to ask a man who I am certain was just released from prison 2 hours prior to starting his shift. Parents beware. It's no longer the Hamburglar you have to watch out for at the playland. We drove to Layton and while pulling into the parking lot and being directed to make a sharp right to the side of the building I made a sharp as hell turn right into the curb! According to Eric my face was that of a priceless 'O shit! What the hell happened?!?' I remember his face was that of " Are you shitting me woman what the hell were you thinking??!!" And then we watched my hub cab roll up the side walk. I opened my door to asses the damage. Upon stepping out I heard a continuing 'whoooooooooooosh' from all the air escaping from my tire out of a huge gaping hole. All Eric could do was laugh. Hysterically. Leading me to laugh. Hysterically. I made him swear to secrecy because of how mortified I was to be myself in that moment. Standing out in the rain in my jammies searching for a jack because I drive like a jack-ass. all the while trying to pass the buck on him by saying, had he not told me how to drive none of this would have happened in the first place. Then turning around to see the huge curb that I so blindly collided into, wondering where a sewer pipe might me so I could slither in and hide for the rest of my days.. Now here I am blogging about it? Nice.
We never found a Jack so we had no other choice than to go ask one of his band members if they had one.
So there I was in my pajamas glaring at my boyfriend to not say another word as he tried with all his might to hold in his laughter as he changed my tire while his guitarist inquisitively persisted on knowing how that big hole in the inside of my tire wall happened. Finally I caved and fessed up to my mishap. My boyfriend and his guitarist's chuckles were quickly interrupted by the Dixie chicks serenading from someones cell phone. Surprisingly, It wasn't my cell phone and it was coming from my Boyfriends pants. He turned bright red when he realized that it was his phone and after I had lent him my old cell he forgot to change the ring tone. He tried to explain as he looked up to his Rock-n-roll Guitarist who had the most puzzled expression on his face because he was probably humming a power ballad by Guns n Roses in his head and the sweet honkey tonk chick jam interuppted the sick guitar solo.. The song 'Cowboy take me away' will forever bring us to laughter.
Anyway.. I returned to church after going home to clean myself up. Even the service felt a little off beat this particular Sunday. After the service Eric and I drove to Wal-Mart to get my tire repaired. This is where my beloved boyfriend found out how to correctly screw lug nuts onto a tire. Yep, that's right I drove clear to North Ogden and back on Backwards nuts screwed onto the doughnut to my little toaster car which was cargoing my precious life inside! I could have been killed!
I quickly forgot about my near near death experience as we played with all the bouncy balls, jump ropes, cowboy hats, baseball bats, night vision goggles, bicycle horns and poping pushing infant toys in the toy section waiting for my car to be fixed. And all the way home I was entertained by the inner child inside my boyfriend as he played with his new flute, his new red yo-yo and fashioned his new spandex pirate tattoo sleeve for all the passer-bys on the freeway. I haven't laughed that hard in one day in.. well, ever.
Fortunately my Toaster wasn't damaged besides the the two tires. And fortunately I had my boyfriend there to help me learn to laugh at myself even in the 'O shit' moments. Because shit will happen. And I think when wading through the shit, a shit-eaten grin makes it much more bearable, a Yo-Yo and a flute doesn't hurt to have around either.
So, Memorial day weekend has passed. The hot as the devil summer days are upon us. I have some exciting events up and coming. Like.. In approximately 3 weeks I will be an Aunt. I am so so excited to meet my new nephew. Despite the fact that kids usually make me want to put armpit high rubber gloves on and carry around large quantities of ear plugs. I am pumped!
The birth of the baby means my Sister Megan is coming home. I miss her.
I am going to Bear lake next weekend to have a one nighter get away with my boyfriend and his band. Last time I was in bear lake I almost ran the place dry of fresh raspberry milkshakes and spent the entire day in search of the lock-nest monster. I plan on doing the exact same thing this time around.
Hopefully we manage to avoid anymore run-ins with sneaky curbs.
June ought to be a good month.

Serious decision making with the help of Conway Twitty.

Whats this?? Another blog?? You don't say...
This is all I have to keep me sane. As I type I am being serenaded by Eric Clapton.. Before that it was Neil Diamond, before that.. Conway Twitty. I guess I asked for it. I was complaining before about the deafening silence. Now I am spending my days jamming out with the Golden Girls.
I have been considering going back to school to do the Surgical Tech Program. So last night I went to Steven Hennigar's college to see what their program was all about. Much to my dismay you have to take a basic aptitude test to be accepted into the medical program. So there I was in the foyer of a college having an anxiety attack with my eyes welling up with tears, my heart pounding 347 miles per minute and the uncontrollable desire to run as far away from the number 2 pencil they were handing me and the evil booklet of math questions that always make me look a fool. I explained to them that I was a dyslexic and I didn't test well. A lady piped up and offered to read me the exam. I bitterly replied "I can read!!" after a bit of convincing, I stayed. The first try at the exam didn't go as well as the second. But.. I PASSED! For many of you a basic knowledge test is cake.For me.. No. Its more like raw cake mix and an easy bake oven with a broken light bulb. The women were all so proud of me for passing (thanks to my dramatical distress call in the foyer) and not only for passing but getting a rather high score. I never pass tests. Ever.
Shortly after the test another women came in to go over the Surgical Tech program. Two things changed my mind. 1. They only offer it during the day. 2. Colon surgery is a very common procedure. Those of you who know me know I can handle blood, guts, puke, brains, whatever but I can't handle and won't handle Poop. Unless you want to be covered in regurgitated Dr pepper, gold fish and a lean cuisine.
As I thanked her for her time she caught my attention by bringing up Respiratory Therapy. No Poo. Just breathing. They make about $42,000 a year. ( as much as an RN ) with the possibility to make much more upon getting a bachelors. I was intrigued. I can't imagine how rewarding a job like that would be. Saving a persons life by giving them breath. Seems incomparable to bringing through reports on lost bicycles.
But It also costs a shit ton of dough. $ 51,000 buckaroos to be precise. How in the carnations would I ever pay a loan like that off?! And working and going to school from 6am to 10pm does not sound all that appealing nor possible for me to even consider. I know me. And the me I know likes to have a life and also enjoys television re-runs and sitting on my biscuit on my sofa drinking up surd amounts of Dr pepper whilst eating Ding-dongs.. But I know what a positive step this would be for my future. And the life I could have in a year and a half.
In my current line of duty I try every day to have a fresh new perspective on my job. It pays decently well. Its easy. I have Weekends and Holidays off, I enjoy working with the fuzz and I have become a professional quiz taking facebook lurker. But I feel, well, useless. And the company I am forced to keep whilst on the clock certainly does not help with my pessimistic work-funk. And the position I have hoped to move up into is looking like less and less of a possibility given the politics.
I just can't decide. If only I could move into an address on easy street. Maybe then the bills wouldn't keep piling up higher and higher and people never said bad things about others, and if people weren't so petty and spiteful. And feelings never got hurt and people stayed faithful, And jobs paid well and nobody struggled. Actually, Horton hears a Who said it best.. "In my world everyone is a pony, and they all eat rainbows, and poop butterflies"
Its boiling down to this. Perhaps I'll convince all those peeps I hold dear to my heart to hop a flight with me to Mexico. ( after this little oinking infestation is cleared up. Obviously) Build a little shack on the beach, spend all our days in our swim suits, never learn Spanish, sell fruit and trinkets to tourists, and collect Mexican welfare. Then go to local business's and curse at them in English and benefit by pulling the racial profiling card. Karma is a bitch people. ( I wonder how you say karma in espanol? ) Betcha can't tell what experience I got to have today at work!
Anyway.. That's what I'm doing lately just juggling around the idea.. to go to school or not to go to school. Think Think Think. Pro con pro con con con pro pro pro. CON.
The end.